“Trust? What happened?” Ivy sat up a little straighter.
“Nothing. That’s the point.” London picked up her fork finally. “We stayed up in shifts to make sure he didn’t drown in his own vomit.”
Nor stiffened. “London.”
London leveled a look at Nor. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
Nor’s frown deepened.
“You can love him and still acknowledge that he has problems. He’s an alcoholic and a habitual drug user. Love him all you want, but don’t be blind, Nor.”
“You don’t have to be mean.” Nor’s lower lip quivered.
“Hey.” Ivy reached out. She took Nor’s hand on one side and London’s knee on the other. “Let’s remember that we care about each other, okay? London, Nor might not want to hear this. Nor, London’s just trying to look out for you. Got it?”
London sighed. “Yeah, sorry, Nor. I just... I see a lot of my mom in him and I guess that makes me...”
“Protective?” Ivy suggested.
“Yeah.” London reached over and took Nor’s other hand.
The only thing wrong with the moment was that Ivy wasn’t completely honest with them. They didn’t know the full truth about her.
The patio door opened and the Shrew Squad, led by Karen and Jia, plus a few new girls, exited. Three of them passed an electric cigarette back and forth while glancing around. Smoking was forbidden, but clearly not everyone cared.
“Careful,” Nor muttered and focused on her plate.
“Yeah.” London did a quick glance over her shoulder. “Karen’s got it in for you after yesterday. I guess some of the men actually said something about what happened. I wouldn’t expect an apology for getting blamed, but Yousef definitely made Karen’s night hell.”
“What happened?” Ivy couldn’t remember seeing Karen or Jia after their little processional.
“Karen spent dinner with Zak.” Nor’s nose wrinkled. “He’s—”
“I know who you’re talking about.” Ivy suddenly didn’t feel like eating. “What happened?”
“What always happens.” Nor leaned over her plate. “She ordered some of the new girls to hang out with her. I don’t know the details since we were in the other wing, but they had an ambulance here.”
Shit.
“Zak and his cousin tried sneaking three girls up to their room last night. They were high or drunk or something.” Ivy didn’t even know the three girls names.
“What did you see?” London asked.
Ivy filled them in on the short episode. She hadn’t seen much, but it was enough.
“Do we know how those girls are?” she asked.
“No.” Nor shook her head. “I just heard staff talking about it.”
“We need to stay away from those two men whenever possible,” Ivy said, staring at each girl in turn. “Promise me?”
Nor and London nodded.
If Yousef or Jabir decided otherwise, their roommate promise wouldn’t be worth much, but it was all they had.
As if thinking of him had summoned him, Yousef stepped out onto the patio.
Immediately the Shrew Squad began to preen, despite most of them being in yoga pants with no make-up. The e-cigarette was noticeably gone.
Yousef scanned them.
Ivy had a bad feeling about this and sank down in her seat.
Yousef turned toward them and looked at her.
Shit.
Whatever this was, it wasn’t good.
11.
Tuesday. Jabir al Saud’s Home. Riyadh, Saudi Arabia.
Killam felt his persona slipping. Normally he had no problem playing his role. Jabby was on a path of self-destruction and Killam had enough distance that when the end came, it wouldn’t suck him in.
Or it hadn’t before now.
Before Ivy was involved.
Jabby hadn’t mentioned her since they’d left his property. If there was one positive thing Killam could say about Jabby, it was that he lived in the moment, draining each experience dry. Killam just hoped that he didn’t drain Ivy.
Maybe Killam should have stayed away.
If he hadn’t kissed her on the plane last night wouldn’t have happened and she might not be on Jabby’s radar yet.
Then again, if he hadn’t urged her to be more cautious, she might have gotten herself caught or killed by now.
“This is an amazing car, my friend,” Jabby said wistfully.
“Then you should get it.”
He flashed a bright grin at Killam. “I can’t buy everything you bring me.”
They turned onto the lane leading down to Jabby’s home. Several cars inched along.
“Shit, how many people did you invite today?” Killam could see the security up ahead.
“Oh, just friends.” Jabby waved his hand. “Go around back, will you?”
“Sure thing.”
Killam cranked the wheel, then gassed it. They circled back, taking the delivery entrance to the back of the property. They were admitted without a check—everyone would know what vehicle they’d taken—and Killam opted to park the Bugatti himself in the second garage. While there wasn’t a line to get in, several delivery trucks were already there.
Including the same blue water truck.
Jabby’s dealer?
Except, Jabby didn’t seem to notice the truck at all.
“What’s happening next?” Killam asked.
Jabby seemed to consider the question for a moment. “Probably hit the pool.”
They got out of the car as house attendants rushed to greet Jabby and sweep him away. That worked for Killam, who wanted a closer look at the water truck.
He spent a moment walking around the car until the group around the prince were far enough away they wouldn’t notice him. Once he was satisfied he’d been forgotten, he struck off toward the unattended truck.
It was a small, blue delivery truck. The advertising on the side of the vehicle was new, which alone struck him as odd.
Killam approached at an angle which let him check out both sides before veering right so the van was between him and the house. He peered into the side window, but the interior was dark and empty.
For all he knew, someone had delivered water here this morning.
But why?
Feet crunched the gravel heading his way.
Killam pulled out his phone and held it to his ear, stuck one hand in his pocket and began a slow, meandering walk.
“Yeah, yeah, I hear you,” he said, maybe a bit too loud as he strolled away from the truck.
The footsteps slowed.
Killam pivoted while making appropriate listening noises.
A man, mid-twenties, stood at the driver’s door to the van looking at his phone. He wasn’t wearing a uniform and unless Killam was mistaken, he was wearing five hundred dollar sneakers.
A water delivery boy wouldn’t be wearing those.
The dealer, then.
He’d been right.
Killam loitered around until the water truck left, then headed for the house himself.
Normally he’d have taken a few hours to shower and hole up in his room before joining the party. This time he just changed into shorts, a T-shirt and flip-flops to help him blend in, then waded into the fray.
There were more guests about today, and less alcohol floating around. It was fairly standard for the inner circle and close friends to enjoy one day before Jabby invited every person he’d ever known. Killam hoped the longer guest list meant a more subdued evening.
The cousins were nowhere to be seen, which was fine with him. He wasn’t looking forward to crossing paths with them again.
Killam stepped out onto the patio, his gaze roving over the people.
He was looking for her. It hit him then and he froze.
It was a dangerous tightrope he was walking. If Jabby knew Killam’s mind he’d lock Ivy up and kick Killam out. Unless she said she wanted out, and then he wasn’t sure what Jabby would do.
Killam had never
heard of a harem girl leaving the prince for someone in his entourage.
“Can I interest you in a cocktail?”
He closed his eyes for a moment, fighting off the sense of relief that came from hearing her voice. He turned toward her and once more was unprepared for the sight of her.
She’d bucked the popular color and gone with a purple strappy bikini and some sort of gauzy wrap that tied around her waist and still left little to the imagination. Even less now that he knew what she looked like naked.
“Thanks,” he managed to say and took the frosty glass she offered him.
“You look like you’ve had a rough day.” She stood next to him and looked out at the party.
“Jabir is a terrible driver.”
“Can’t say that I’m surprised.”
Killam glanced around, but Jabby wasn’t in sight. “I think I found the cousin’s supplier.”
“It sounds like those three girls were sick enough to need to go to the hospital.”
Shit.
He sighed. “Nah, he’ll have them locked up and the docs come to them. He won’t want to get in trouble.”
Ivy didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. He knew her well enough by now to know she was pissed.
It could have been worse. If he’d have stayed in his room, if he hadn’t gotten involved, who knew what would have happened?
Guilt weighed at him.
He needed to warn her.
“Our plan might have backfired,” he said.
“Oh?”
“Jabir’s interested in you again.”
“I know.” It was her turn to sigh. “Yousef already told me my duties for the day.”
Killam cursed this whole fucking system.
She turned her head and looked at him. “I can handle myself.”
He didn’t trust himself to say anything.
After that scene last night, did she really think she was in any kind of control?
Maybe if she was with Jabby one-on-one and alone, her plans would go perfectly. But what happened when that wasn’t the case? When she got a curveball?
He was too invested. Too involved with her to see things objectively and accept what had to be done.
“Can you fake getting sick? Twist your ankle?” He was grasping at straws.
She didn’t look at him, but her words were firm. “I’ll be fine. You don’t have to protect me. This is my job. I knew what it would entail.”
Damn it, he couldn’t stop worrying, and his worry had nothing on the fiery urge to kill anyone who so much as looked at her.
A cheer rose up behind him and Killam knew without looking that Jabby had arrived at the party.
Sure enough, the man’s booming laugh preceded his appearance on the patio.
Killam glanced at Ivy—or where she had been—but she was gone.
Smart.
He watched Jabby slap hands and pound shoulders of newcomers, all while an entourage grew. There were familiar faces in the mix, but not the cousins.
Interesting.
He glanced around and found Yousef over by the bar with a clipboard.
“Killam!” Jabby called out.
Shit.
He turned his head and saluted the prince with his drink.
“Come. Come have shots with us.” Jabby waved at Killam.
Hell, he might need the alcohol to get through today.
He pushed off the wall and ambled past the tables to join Jabby at the bar. The man pouring drinks lined up a dozen shot glasses and poured clear liquid in.
Killam took his glass while the others were handed out and turned.
He froze and his stomach knotted up.
Jabby stood with an arm around Ivy’s waist. She had that too-bright smile on. The one from the first day he’d seen her. It looked so fake now, but back then he’d bought it.
Someone called out a toast. The man next to Killam clinked his glass and then they were all drinking.
He tossed the liquor back, gasping as the burning sensation went all the way to his gut. But when he opened his eyes, his nightmare was still there.
Jabby laughed, head tossed back, his sunglasses about to fall off his head, and set the glass down blindly.
He was living his best life. Or what he thought his best life was. And Killam had to watch.
Ivy turned her head as if in slow motion, looking up at Jabby. He glanced down at her and Killam knew the bastard wasn’t seeing a person. When he looked at Ivy or any of the girls he saw a toy. A play thing.
Killam gripped the edge of the bar.
Jabby shoved his hand up in Ivy’s hair, bent her head back and planted a kiss on her. She wobbled and her hands flailed about for a brief moment.
Killam went hot all over as rage set in.
He turned, all the while his brain was grabbing at potential weapons.
The ice pick. A broken bottle. Whiskey glasses were surprisingly good bludgeoning tools. A chair. A woman’s shoe.
Killam walked. He had to. He shouldered past people, all while feeling as though the mansion were pressing in around him.
He wound up back outside, striding toward the second garage.
Jabby had kissed her.
In the beginning Killam had asked her if she was prepared to do what she had to be part of the harem. She’d assured him she could play the part. She was doing her damn job. But he didn’t want her to.
She wasn’t his, and yet...she was.
And another man had kissed her. Had more right to her than he did.
Jabby didn’t fucking deserve her.
Killam growled in rage and kicked at a stray rock on the asphalt. It skittered toward the garage. He bent, scooped it up and hurled it at the bricks, shattering the soft rock into a hundred little bits.
He was going to end Jabby. If for nothing else than touching Ivy. The man’s days were numbered.
TUESDAY. JABIR AL SAUD’S Home. Riyadh, Saudi Arabia.
Ivy stared at her reflection.
She’d never looked more beautiful.
London had worked some magic with the hairspray to somehow make her curls seem as if they had more life. Nor had put some final touches on her make-up.
Too bad all Ivy wanted to do was take a swan dive into the pool.
Today had been trying, to say the least. While Jabir had obviously imbibed less than the day before, she’d felt more like a nanny than anything else. Except when he’d groped her. Even during the worst periods working for her former clients the teenage son hadn’t pulled that stunt.
“I think you’ll do,” London said, sounding pleased.
Unlike the night before, she wore a simple gunmetal gray sheath dress with a thigh high slit and had gone easy on the make-up.
Ivy felt like she was a pig getting ready for the slaughter.
“I can’t decide if you look like a Roman goddess or an ice queen all in white.” London grabbed Ivy’s wrist and lifted. “This ring doesn’t really go.”
Ivy pulled back. “It’s my aunt’s. I always wear it.”
“Okay.” London shrugged and turned. “It’s probably time to go down.”
“Right,” Ivy muttered to herself.
The lesson she’d learned best today was that the closer a girl got to Jabir, the more the others hated her. Ivy was glad she’d bucked her plans and told London they should have each other’s back. There was no solidarity among the women and that was a shame. In a situation like this they should have had each other’s backs instead of trying to stab one another.
London hefted the tray with their plates off the foot of her bed and Nor opened the door for them. The tray was left on the floor for pickup later.
Below, most of the girls were milling about, already prepared for the ridiculous parade.
She felt eyes on her and the ill will they all bore her.
Ivy wished she could give up this attention, but she couldn’t pass up the chance to get Jabir alone. What she might find out was well worth the risk of being pawed at
in front of an audience.
At least that was what she was telling herself.
Piers would be there? She hadn’t seen him all afternoon. But she couldn’t worry about him. Not now. Or why she’d gone to thinking of him as Piers instead of Killam.
Yousef appeared as they descended the stairs. He just crooked a finger at Ivy and her fate was sealed. With a final glance back at the other two, she joined Yousef at the doors.
In the shelter of the entry, with the others a half dozen yards away, Yousef drew up short. He turned his head and looked at her.
“You did very well today. I need you to watch out for him. If you can convince him to retire early, I’ll make it worth your while.” Then he turned and opened the doors.
Worth her while?
Suddenly Ivy wished she’d pulled Nor aside and asked more questions. It was too late now, unless Ivy could find Nor during the course of the evening.
Yousef pushed the door open and held it for her, though his gaze was already elsewhere.
The atrium of the home wasn’t completely full of guests yet. Most of them still wore swim trunks and a shirt. Very few had changed that she could see, which made sense given the number of guests and how the house was already at capacity.
She was led out onto the patio where Jabir sat at the large, plush sectional holding court with some guests.
Piers wasn’t present. She couldn’t help but note that fact. It would have been nice to see him and know he was there if things got out of hand. But she hadn’t been brought on to do this job as a team. The intent all along had been for her to do this on her own. And so she would.
Ivy did her best shy smile as all eyes turned to her.
Yousef gestured at her and bowed to Jabir.
Two men even clapped.
What was she? The Mona Lisa?
“Very nice.” Jabir patted the cushion next to him.
He’d put on slacks and a button-down shirt. Only one button was fastened and his shirt sleeves hung from his forearms like odd little wings. His sunglasses had slid down to the very tip of his nose. He was holding another, full, cocktail.
Great.
How many had he downed while she’d rushed through a shower, her hair and everything else?
The skin between Ivy’s shoulder blades prickled as she made her way past the court of men around Jabir. The feeling wasn’t all that dissimilar to what she’d felt in the field leading a charge with bullets flying. It was the sensation of being in a sniper’s sights. A dull ache throbbed in her gut. She’d always been called blessed. Somehow she’d escaped the bullets in the years she’d been a Combat Engineer. Today she had to wonder if she would be so lucky.
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