UnknownI exhaled the long puff of smoke, looking out of the balcony of the guest room. It was a beautiful, sunny day. People were smiling, talking about Zara’s engagement as if the attack during the wedding of Khalid and Valeria was nothing.The people I had hired to kidnap Zara had failed. Again. I watched the securities, the woman named Elena had established around the entire Golden Palace. They were following the Sultana, Nasrin Al Latif and her daughter, Aya Al Latif, the Princess. Both of them laughing and running around the fresh cut grass. I had never seen Nasrin grin so freely before. Too bad I would be the reason for her and others’ cries in a few days. I couldn’t trust anyone else to fuck up my plan anymore. I would have to do it on my own.“Is there anything I can help you wi—”Turning around, I offered a small smile to the maid. “No, thank you. I was just watching the Sultana and the Princess playing in the gardens.”The maid’s smile was genuine. “Ah, yes, Princess Aya ha
Explicit Bonus SceneAuthor’s note: This bonus scene includes consensual non-consent, where Hayden and Zara have talked about the entire scene before doing anything. It is a role-play.ZaraIt had been a pleasant evening dining with the Duke and the Duchess of Scotland who had been the last Royals to leave the Golden Palace after the party of my and Hayden’s engagement. I glanced at the gleaming diamond Hayden had insisted on buying for me even though I would have been more than fine with a simple band. Despite my refusal, he bought me the most expensive diamond and told me to wear that ring while he’s fucking me and nothing else. It was still unbelievable that I was engaged to him. My palm slid to my stomach, stopping across the mirror in the room we shared. He had left after the dinner of our party the day before yesterday and told me he would be back soon. The room was dark. The only source of light was the moonlight streaming in from the open balcony. I looked at the woman in th
CHARMING HANDSOME SHEIKH PrologueI wanted my only love to be happy. Even if she couldn’t marry me in the end, I wanted her to get married, love someone else, have kids and die of old age. Not by a rope cinched around her slender neck. Her smile used to make my heart feel warm with her soft lips pressing against mine, whispering sweet words. Now she’s dead. Her bluish, pale lips will never smile, they will never kiss me or the kids she wanted. She will never whisper, ‘You are my sun. I love you.’Because of him. The Sultan of Azmia. I will avenge her death, make him beg when I take everything and everyone he has ever loved away from him.I will burn Azmia and kill Zain Al Latif. PART ONE“How many times are you going to keep falling for me, Sheikh Zayed?”“Forever, my darling. Forever.” 1ZayedI was ten years old when I killed a man. His blood splashing on my cheek, painting my tunic and hands dark red. I felt nothing except relief as his lifeless body fell on that dusty floo
2ElenaThe first thing they teach you at police officer training when you are given a handgun with a small caliber is to always monitor the safety. Always keep the safety on when you are not aiming at something or someone you want to kill. If it’s off, then you plan to kill the person. One of my agents rasped through the hidden mail van into my earpiece. “Target A is moving towards the club. Agent Zero and Three, take position.”“Copy that.” I rolled my neck and flexed my shoulder, happy to find the comforting weight of two pistols in my holsters. I unzipped the puffer coat and blew air on my cupped hands. Agent Three, Daniel, stayed alert on my side wearing sunglasses and taking my hand in his when potential suspects, members of the gang whose leader we were about to catch, walked past us. It was a cloudy day in Manhattan, New York. We had planned to catch Antonio Fazio, a dangerous gang and drug ring leader. Rumors of his goonies murdering, raping, torturing people who wanted ou
3ZayedI could taste the hot, citrusy air, the smell of sand, leather and the warmth of sunlight as sweat slid down my back, pressing against my light shirt when I moved over the horse. Clenching the reins, I directed the horse towards the sand dunes, the ends of my hair that curled out of my keffiyeh ruffled with the wind, and I wondered if I deserved it all. The freedom, being a Sheikh, or the air that I breathed. Guiding the horse, I breathed loudly and patted his mane, switching from the fast gallop to silent walk in the empty desert. The bleeding sunset painted the barren land with tints of yellow, orange and red, its heat blistering, but I relished in it. Thoughts of Azmia, the upcoming wedding, safety of my friends, filled my head. My hands tightened on the reins as I tried to relax, thinking about my childhood. ***My stomach growled at seeing the buttered bread at the shop. I stuffed my hands in my pockets, hoping for a miracle that it would be full of gold coins. But mir
4ElenaThe room was in chaos. And not the people running around and everything falling apart in disarray. One of my guards was lying on the floor, clutching his side, the doctor and two nurses cowering in the corner. I kept my gun pointed at the nurse who entered during my phone call. She was standing beside Antonio’s bed, the heart machine beeping and going towards flatline. Smells of medicine and blood lingered in the air. “Close all the gates in building A,” I spoke to my ear piece, keeping my aim steady. “Call backup and stay on the guard. We have—”“Now, now,” the woman spoke, her voice soft yet firm, flashing her hazel brown eyes at me. Her hair and face was covered, but I could notice the intense emotions swirling in her eyes. “There’s no need for backup, Agent Elena. I am not here to hurt anyone.”“How old are you?” I asked her instead, flickering my eyes at the slit on Antonio’s throat, his eyes half open. He was dead. So it must be a personal matter that she came here to k
5ZayedI dreamt of emerald eyes and an endless sea of blood. The thick metal taste hovering in the air, salt of silent tears and the warmth of a small body pressed against mine with our hands covered in sticky blood. A shift beside me woke me up with a gasp, my hand already fisting the hilt of the knife underneath the pillow. My chest heaved and sweat ran down my temple, my heart pounding in my ribs, my head throbbing with the headache. Taste of alcohol and muskiness of last night’s activity made me present. The woman moved, her dark curls brushing over the arch of her spine as she hugged a pillow in her sleep, unaware that I was seconds away from hurting her. Harming her. The same person who had charmed her into the bed she was sleeping in. Fuck. That was a close call. I let go of the hilt and hid the dagger, its blade sharp enough to pierce any armor, in the nightstand drawer and leaned back on the headboard. I willed myself to calm down and passed a hand over my face. Thankful
6ElenaThe marble clacked under the heels of my boots. Stone pillars and golden chandeliers lined the ceiling of the marble pathway to the cabins of Omar Ali. One of the most powerful Sheikhs of Azmia—well, the second most powerful, considering the most powerful, is a cranking idiot, Zayed. But Omar Ali was the oldest and the smartest one. My father.My fist clenched and felt the brush of balmy, dry air that somehow hovered in the middle of April.“How nice of you to finally visit your family,” Ahmed, our advisor, scrunched his nose as I ventured inside my father’s room. “How nice of you to invite me to my home for the first time in twenty years,” I replied with a saccharine smile, the feel of the pistol on my back making it tolerable. Without the metal impression of it, I would feel as if I was not in my own skin.My mother, who was walking ahead of us, came to a halt and turned towards me, her expensive gown, clanking jewelries and her frowned face, glaring up at me. Her golden ha