Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 49415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
This time, it was just about what he wanted.
And for better or for worse – he wanted Hyacinth.
UNIVERSITY LIFE WAS nothing and everything Hyacinth expected it to be. On one hand, she was disappointed to realize that most talks about the freedoms of adulthood were just that – talk. Within the walls of her new home, she still found herself pretending – smiling because it was easier that way, swallowing the words she wanted to say because it was what was expected of her, and most of all, she had to pretend she was absolutely fine.
But she was not – at all.
Every night was a struggle, to the point that she would find herself crying at her sheer inability to fall asleep without seeing the sheikh taking another woman in his arms.
Fuck you, Rayyan Al-Atassi. FUCK YOU. She screamed the words at her pillow – the only thing she could do to lessen the heavy, crushing weight of her pain. She hated him. God, how she hated him, and she hoped she would always keep hating him because that was the only way to keep herself from remembering that there was something else she felt for him.
The only bright thing in her new life was her unofficial work at the media club. When she had first applied as a writer, its editor-in-chief Marwan Bseiso – a fourth-year student majoring in journalism – had rejected her outright, saying that he had no need for palace mouthpieces masquerading as bright-eyed freshmen with patriotic dreams.
Normally, she would have let such remarks fly with a shrug, but since it was on that same day she had received a call from Mrs. B. and had to fake ignorance about the other woman’s incestuous relationship with her cousin, Hyacinth had just...snapped.
She had flown into a rage, ended up saying a thousand things that she would’ve normally kept to herself, and when her anger had died, she had stood there, shaken and appalled by her loss of control –
Marwan had simply said, “It seems like I’ve misjudged you.”
Apparently, Marwan was a huge fan of Fuck Being Politically Correct, and now that he knew she was the one behind it, he was more than happy to have her be part of his team. Consequently, it was having Marwan as her pseudo mentor that made Hyacinth gradually realize what she wanted to be.
The only thing left was to find the courage to seize her dream with her own two hands.
Which was why she was here, Hyacinth thought to herself, waiting for the sheikh like the lovesick idiot that she tried so hard to pretend she wasn’t.
She tried to take all the stories the sheikh’s staff was eagerly sharing with a grain of salt, but it was hard, since they were saying exactly what she needed to hear. Did he really miss her? Did he? Did he?
And then...he was just there.
Oh my God, how long had he been standing there?
A second later, she saw his lip curl, and she could’ve sworn she literally heard his voice in her mind, answering her unspoken question. Long enough to know I need to fire most of my staff for slander.
It had her lips twitching, and she could only look at him, so, so damn happy she had to distract herself with a bit of banter lest she ended up crying. But were they really lying? She let her lips curve in a taunting smile. Or were you truly pining for me?
After, Hyacinth waited for the sheikh to smirk or at least smile back at the question, but his gorgeous face remained impassive, his blue eyes blazing.
It took more than a moment for her to realize that was it already.
His answer –
He had pined for her.
And she could no longer stop herself, her feet moving all on its fucking own, and then she was running and sobbing –
The sheikh’s arms closed around her just as she started crying in his arms, and the painful silence of her sobs had everyone looking away to hide their own tears.
Rayyan swept her up, and uncaring of what doing so would mean in the eyes of his employees, he carried her into his office and kicked the door shut. He felt her body began to shake at the strength of her endless sobs, and torment twisted inside of him.
He forced himself to lower her even when his instincts warned him against giving her the slightest chance to run away.
He slowly made her look at him, his own hands shaking as he cupped her face. “Hyacinth—-” A thousand possibilities ran through his mind in a mere second; he just wanted to be fucking sure that his next words wouldn’t hurt her.
But in the end, they were all useless.
She pulled away from his hold. “Tell me about her.”
Because it appeared she had only come back to do it all on her own.