by Erin Snihur
As if just realizing he is watching her, Leelah shrieks loudly, causing Ayo to drop the stick and come bounding over to his master. Patting the dog on the head, Malik kneels down as Leelah flings herself into his waiting arms. Catching her, Maarku swings her around in a circle.
Laughing with glee, Leelah pats Malik’s stubbled cheek as he stops his spinning and holds her in his arms, “Hello, Malik!”
Impressed with her clear speech, Malik inwardly thanks the tutors he’d recommended to Artis. They were obviously working their magic on the bright girl.
Looking around, Malik’s chest tightens. Samara isn’t back yet. Obviously, her sister is taking up too much of her time. Please don’t get sucked into one of her scandals, Samara!
“Malik! Can you help me buy a gift for Samara?” Leelah asks, drawing Malik’s attention back to her.
Setting her down, Malik walks over to the stick Ayo had dropped and throws it for the hyper dog, “Of course, little one. What would you like to get her?”
Wandering through the gardens, Malik follows Leelah as she trails after Ayo and cheekily yells back to him, “Something happy! She was really sad when I saw her today!”
Sad? Malik wonders as he follows more quickly after his cousin, “What do you mean she was sad?”
Kneeling down before Leelah, Malik watches as the young girl hesitates and bites her bottom lip. Malik smiles fondly down at her, understanding her hesitation, “You aren’t in trouble, Leelah. I just want to make sure we get Samara the best gift.”
Leelah pauses before scanning the area and noting her maid is still hanging back, grins shyly up at Malik.
“I was spying on Samara! She was really sad and so was the lady she was with.” Leelah explains, “Samara says she wants a divey thing, but I don’t know where to buy them. So maybe you do!”
“A divey thing?” Malik asks, completely confused. She must have seen Samara and Sheena talking.
Face contorts in concentration, Leelah tries to say the word a few times, “Delivery? Divory?”
Squinting his eyes, Malik murmurs her mangled versions of the words before realizing with grim frustration, what she really heard, “Divorce?”
Smiling, Leelah nods her head excitedly, “Where do I buy a divorce, Uncle Malik? Is it like a diving board?”
Nodding out of habit, Malik’s mind races at the thought of Samara wanting a divorce. Before they’d repaired their arranged marriage, Malik had offered Samara a divorce. Before their marriage she had wanted her freedom, far from her grandfather’s control. She’d refused the divorce and they’d reconciled. What could have possibly changed?
Heart breaking, Malik excuses himself quickly from Leelah’s presence and marches outside of their chambers. Finding himself in the palace’s gym, Malik snaps his fingers at a few guards who are sparring in the boxing ring.
“You two, let’s go a few rounds. I need to release some tension,” Malik growls.
Samara, what have you done to us?
8
Six days until Christmas…
Samara winces as the drapes from the windows open and bright, morning light beams in, hitting her square in the face. Grumbling under her breath, a light giggle sounding from her own personal maid, Caliyah, draws Samara’s attention away from her pillow.
“Good morning, Samara,” Caliyah whispers softly as she holds out a mug of hot coffee.
Accepting the gracious offer, Samara smiles and looks around the room. Her sister, Sheena, is still asleep on the other side of the bed. Clutching a pillow to her chest, just like she used to do as a child. Samara’s heart sinks at the sight of her once strong and confident sister, broken before her eyes. Samara turns back to Caliyah, who stares wide eyed at Sheena and her bruised face.
“Should I alert the Sheik or the head of security of Sheena’s injuries?” Caliyah asks, confusion clear on her face over Sheena’s appearance.
Shaking her head, Samara sighs, “No. Although I’m sure Malik will want to know why I didn’t come to bed last night. Is he eating breakfast, right now?”
Caliyah turns away from Samara then and begins mumbling something about needing to fold her clothing. Following after her maid until the young woman stops in Sheena’s bedroom closet, Samara hisses her maids name.
“What is going on? What aren’t you telling me?”
Biting her bottom lip, Caliyah gazes behind Samara and then back to her, before whispering, “His Highness left the palace yesterday. He has not returned and no one seems to know why.”
Eyes wide, Samara cries out, “What?”
Scrambling for her phone in her pocket, Samara jumps when her sisters drowsy voice behind her, startles her from scanning her notifications.
“Did he leave because of me?” Sheena asks.
Inwardly, Samara wants to roll her eyes. Of course not. This couldn’t be about Sheena! Why would Malik side with Charles, Sheena’s abusive and soon to be ex-husband?
Shaking her head, Samara pats Sheena’s hand and shoots Caliyah a pointed look, “Of course not, Sheena! Why don’t you go get ready for the morning and Caliyah will bring us some tea and breakfast?”
As her sister hesitantly nods and exits the closet, Samara turns her eyes half on her maid and half on her phone as she mutters, “What is that idiotic man doing?”
Trying to call Malik on her phone, Samara curses in Arabic under her breath.
Shrugging, Caliyah smirks, “You married him.”
Grumbling under her breath, “Don’t remind me.”
Malik, where are you!
Five days until Christmas
“So, let me get this straight. Leelah was spying on Samara and her sister. She heard them discussing divorce. And that makes you think Samara finally wants that divorce you offered her at the beginning of your marriage?” Malik’s longtime friend and recently crowned Sheik, Tariq Abadi of Hattan, peers down at him from the video screen that Malik is using in the hotel suite he’d procured for the evening. At the time it seemed like a smart decision. He just needed to get away from the palace and think. Now, he felt like a complete idiot.
Tariq continues, sounding incredulous, “And instead of speaking with Samara and trying to get to the bottom of what Leelah told you, you decided to leave the palace without telling your wife and hide away in a hotel? And you haven’t spoken to Samara in two days?”
In the background of Tariq’s video, an auburn haired woman appears. His girlfriend and according to Tariq, his soon to be wife, even if he had to drag her down the aisle himself, Sophie Marks.
“That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard! Get your butt back to the palace and fix this! I didn’t spend months planning our groups Christmas holiday for you and Samara to ruin it with your little tiff!” Sophie shrieks as she runs around behind Tariq, streamers and tinsel in her arms, as servants follow closely behind.
Squinting his eyes at Tariq shrewdly, Malik growls, “So much for privacy, huh, Tariq?”
At his friends’ sheepish shrug, Malik grins, “Perhaps I should tell Sophie why exactly you want us all in Hattan for Christmas?”
Sophie’s voice and face appears in the background of the video, “What did he say?”
“Nothing! Nothing, my love!” Tariq shouts and pushes Sophie towards a gaggle of servants in the corner of the video, “Don’t you have baked goods to taste test?”
With Sophie completely removed from frame, Tariq glares at Malik, “You’re lucky you’re a plane ride away, otherwise you’d be a dead man.”
Scoffing, Malik stands and begins to pace, “Can we get back to my issue, please?”
Nodding, Tariq crosses his arms over his broad chest, “Maybe Leelah misheard? I mean Sheena is visiting, perhaps her sister is the one getting a divorce.”
Standing there, shocked at the thought, Malik’s mind begins to run over the possibilities, “Sheena is the scandal queen. Perhaps the scandals have finally caught up with her?”
Then, Malik hits a brick wall, “But that can’t be it. She
ena’s husband, Charles is some sort of Duke in England. They have a prenup. If he divorces Sheena, he loses a lot of money.”
The click clacking of fingers on a keyboard from Tariq’s side of the video, is all Malik hears until his friend snorts and waves his hand over the screen, “Look what just showed up on England’s number one headline.”
Malik curses under his breath as he reads aloud as the article appears thanks to two-way viewing.
“Scandal Queen Strikes Again. Caught cheating on Duke husband with the help!”
“Fuck!” Malik growls and runs his hands through his hair, “Samara hates media attention. This is going to make things so much worse!”
Scanning his screen attentively, Tariq whistles lowly, “Looks like your dear old brother-in-law has already started proceedings, on the basis of Sheena’s affair with some cook in their home.”
“I’ve got to get home. This can’t get back to Samara. The media will tear her apart for even bothering to help her own sister,” Malik growls.
It was a well known fact that the Arabic people didn’t accept divorces that well. It was very lucky for their friend, Khalid, that he and his second wife, Amelia, had been able to woo their people into accepting their marriage.
Tariq grins hesitantly to Malik on the other side of the screen as he asks, “So, Christmas?”
Rolling his eyes, Malik shoots his friend the finger and, “Fuck off.”
Turning off the video chat, Malik grabs his laptop and packs swiftly, knowing anything of unimportance that he leaves behind will find its way back to the palace. Ignoring the sense of dread that fills in his stomach as Malik prays that this day can’t get any worse, he opens the door to his suite.
Instead of just finding his guards waiting for him on the other side of the door, Malik comes face to face with his grandfather-in-law. Hamda Ameen. The old man, weathered and haggard from the world taking him and dumping him into the trash of poverty, resembles nothing of the swift talking businessman that had almost ruined Malik’s marriage.
“Good afternoon, Malik,” Hamda croons from his position between two guards, both hands in handcuffs at his front and a resigned expression on his face.
9
Five days until Christmas…
“That’s ‘Your Majesty’, chelb,” the guard holding Hamda’s arms growls the Arabic word for dog and shakes Hamda slightly to get his point across.
Holding up a hand to silence the guard, Malik glares down at the man that had almost ruined everything for he and Samara, “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to see my family. I was not permitted entrance to the palace and saw you left a few days ago. I was able to find you here. Perhaps you could grant me clearance to my granddaughters?” Hamda murmurs, his voice raspy. Probably from the cigarettes the old man uses for stress.
Clenching his fists tightly, Malik stretches his neck, popping the joints there, “I don’t think that’s going to happen. Samara doesn’t want to see you.”
Taking a step towards him, Hamda coughs into his hand, earning Malik’s sneer of disgust as the stench of the man fills his nostrils.
“But she will. Especially if she wants her sister to be safe,” Hamda murmurs in a low voice for only Malik to hear.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Malik growls and like a cat, has Hamda’s dirty shirt collar in his hands, shaking the old man.
As if expecting Malik’s anger to lead to violence, Hamda hisses, “I’ll tell you, if you give me what I want.”
“What is it that you want?” Malik growls, releasing the old man into the arms of his waiting guards.
“I just want to see my granddaughters. Alone, in private,” Hamda murmurs.
Laughing harshly, Malik’s glare intensifies, “Not happening. I remember what you did to Samara when you were alone with her, the last time. Perhaps I need to remind you what happens to those that hurt the people I care about.”
Hamda visibly flinches, much to Malik’s satisfaction. The older man turns his nose up at Malik as if resigned in his fate, “Do what you must, but Sheena and Samara shall suffer for it.”
Fed up with this conversation, Malik points to his head of security, “Take him to the palace jail cells. Keep your best men on him.”
Watching as some of his men drag Hamda away, the old man begins to protest loudly. Malik’s hands clench tightly at his sides, trying not to reveal his temper to the remaining guards.
“Sheena, what have you gotten us involved in now!” Malik curses.
Samara is agitated. No one would tell her where Malik was. He wouldn’t answer her calls and if she did text him, they usually were met without a response. Now, two days since her sister’s arrival, Samara and Sheena are lounging by the palace pool. Samara in a bikini and Sheena covered up from head to toe to hide her bruises. She still wore her dark sunglasses, to keep Malik’s cousins from asking too many questions.
It didn’t seem to matter though, Leelah was a barrage of questions. Finally, Samara had ordered the young girl to go play with her siblings, instead of spending time with the adults.
As if sensing her agitation, Sheena reaches over and squeezes Samara’s hand, “You don’t have to sit with me every second of the day. Go be with your husband.”
Samara hadn’t wanted to alarm her sister with the truth. She’d lied and said Malik was very busy handling some last minute business before the holidays. Now, she regretted not telling Sheena the truth. But then again, the poor girl had enough going on.
Smiling back at her sister, Samara shakes her head, “Malik is busy. Besides, he knows how much I’ve missed you.”
Hesitantly, Sheena waves her hand over herself, “Have you told him about me, yet?”
“No,” Samara murmurs, “But he should know. He could help. Malik has a way with the media. They love him.”
“I’m just not ready to face the media yet,” Sheena sighs and glances over at the children as they run and splash in the pool. Out of instinct, Sheena’s hand drifts to her stomach, “Do you think Charles will come for us?”
Shaking her head, Samara squeezes Sheena’s hand, “I’ve had Marcus put out an alert to our border security officials. Charles is not welcome in Batra, unless royally requested.”
Biting her bottom lip, Samara gazes down at her barely noticeable bump, “I shouldn’t have given that money to Grandfather. That’s how all of this started. Once Charles found out about that, he just assumed everything I told him was a lie.”
Again, Sheena desperately asked, “You believe me, though, right? About the baby being Charles’ child?”
Nodding, Samara forces a smile on her face and leans over in her lounger to brush hair away from her sisters face, “Of course I do. Even if the child wasn’t, I would still love it. I can’t wait to be an Auntie!”
“Thank you,” Sheena whispers, before her face visibly contorts in pain as she tries to get more comfortable.
Groaning under her breath, Sheena struggles in her seat to stand, only for Samara and Sheena’s maid to help her up. Her ribs and arms are still healing.
“I think I’m going to go lie down inside,” Sheena murmurs.
Kissing her sister on her cheek, Samara watches as her maid escorts Sheena off the patio and back inside the palace.
“Where is your sister going, Samara? She didn’t see my cannon ball!” Leelah’s young voice causes Samara to jump and spin around. The young girl is standing behind Samara looking like a drowned rat in her bathing suit and wet, dark hair tied in a knot on her head.
Kneeling down in front of Leelah, Samara smiles, “She was feeling tired.”
“Oh, I bet it’s because of the divorce you want to get,” Leelah cries out, “I’ve already searched for one and Malik said he’d handle it.”
Blood chilling as Samara’s heart rate speeds up, she levels the young girl with a serious look. As she grasps Leelah by the shoulders, her voice wavers.
“What did you say?”
Bottom lip pouting
, Leelah sheepishly looks up at Samara, “I told Malik you wanted a divorce. I thought it was a present, so I told him and he said he was going to take care of it. Then he went away.”
Fuck! Mind scrambling, Samara ignores Leelah as the young girl yells after her. All Samara can think of is what Leelah said. This must be the reason Malik disappeared. He must think Samara wanted a divorce! After all they’d been through, how could he be such a stupid man?
Finding Marcus waiting at the doors of the patio, Samara glares at the large man, “Find my husband and tell him his Sheikha demands his presence in the throne room pronto.”
Ignoring the strange looks from the palace staff as she marches to their chambers in nothing but her bikini, Samara calls for Caliyah as she enters. The young maid appears, looking confused as Samara curses in her wake in both English and Arabic.
“Find me something beautiful and sexy that a Sheikha would wear. It’s time for my husband to realize the woman he married isn’t to be taken for granted!”
Malik isn’t ready for the look of horror to pass over Sheena’s eyes as he and his troop of guards drag Hamda through the palace doors. Malik hadn’t even recognized his sister-in-law at first and initially he had passed her off for a common servant. Wearing dark robes from head to toe, Malik stares amazed at the sight of Sheena’s eyes covered with large sunglasses. Though her look of fright is unmistakable.
Struggling in his men's grip, Hamda shrieks and snarls, “You bitch! You did this to me! If you had just shut your damn legs, none of this would have happened!”
Ignoring his comments, Malik waves his guards away, “Shut him up. We’ll deal with him later.”
Swinging his gaze back to Sheena, he watches as the unrecognizable woman bows her head low at Hamda’s departure and scurries away from Malik in the opposite direction. Clenching his fists tightly, Malik calls out her name, but it seems to only make the frightened woman run faster. It seemed quite difficult for her to run in the long and restrictive robes.
