Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
“I’m not too hot,” Zain said. “Just keep doing what you’re doing.”
The pleased little smile Aiden gave him made something vicious twist in his chest. It left Zain feeling wound up and breathless, so he closed his eyes, unsettled.
Later.
He would think about the issue later.
***
Zain shut down his computer and was about to leave his office when his secretary told him that there was a man who wanted to talk to him.
“Tell him to make an appointment,” Zain said, irritated that he even had to say it. “I’m done for the day.” He had actually planned to leave sooner. Aiden had been mopey lately. If Zain had to guess, it had something to do with the approaching Christmas. He probably missed his family.
Zain pressed his lips together, the thought unpleasant for reasons he couldn’t explain.
He just detested moping of any kind. That was all.
Presents. He would buy Aiden a few Christmas presents to cheer him up. That should fix the issue.
“I tried,” said his secretary over the intercom. “But he refuses to leave.”
Zain frowned. “Call security. Why are you bothering me with this?” He switched the intercom off and started quickly gathering up the paperwork that was strewn about on the desk. Some of it needed his immediate attention. He’d have to take it home with him.
The sound of the door opening didn’t make him lift his head. But the sound of heavy footsteps that definitely didn’t belong to his lanky secretary did.
“Buono sera,” said the man.
Zain straightened up, his eyes narrowing. He pressed the button of his intercom. “Salih, I told you to call security.”
The man shrugged with a smile, letting his jacket fall open, revealing a holstered gun.
Zain went still.
“Your secretary decided to take a break,” the man said in English, but he didn’t speak it as a native speaker, his Italian accent very strong.
Zain considered calling security, but they wouldn’t be of much use to him floors away. The man was armed. Armed and dangerous. There was something about the way the man carried himself that made it obvious that he wouldn’t hesitate to use his gun.
“What do you want?” Zain said.
“My name is Lorenzo,” the man said, with a smile that didn’t touch his eyes. “I’m just here to ask you a few questions, Signor Rahim. You answer them, and I go away.”
Zain sat down in his chair and regarded him coldly. “You have three minutes and then I’m calling security.”
Lorenzo—if his name really was Lorenzo—sat down in the chair across his desk and studied him with sharp, intelligent eyes. “You attended a party in March.”
Zain didn’t tense up, but it was a close thing.
Inwardly, he cursed. It had been too much to hope that finding Aiden’s friends and helping them get home wouldn’t have consequences. He might have taken precautions to not give away his identity, but the girls knew where they had been initially sold.
No good deed went unpunished.
That said, he still didn’t regret doing it. Aiden’s reaction alone had been worth it.
“I attend a lot of parties,” Zain said, holding the Italian’s gaze steadily. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
“That one was special. It had a discreet auction happening, with very exotic, expensive merchandise.”
“I’m afraid I don’t follow you.”
Lorenzo gave him a long, assessing look.
Zain met his gaze head-on. Let him look his fill. He would find nothing on his face.
“Hmm,” Lorenzo said before pulling out a photograph from his pocket. “And you’ve never seen this man?”
Zain glanced at the picture. Although he’d expected it, seeing Aiden’s picture still felt like a blow to his gut.
“I don’t think so,” Zain said. “Even if I have, I don’t remember. I don’t have a good memory for faces. Now, are you done wasting my time?”
Slowly, Lorenzo got to his feet, his eyes still boring a hole in Zain’s face, no doubt looking for any signs of lying.
“Fine,” he finally said gruffly. “But if you’re lying, you will regret it, signor.” The threat was delivered with calm confidence.
“Get out,” Zain said, staring him down.
He didn’t relax once the man was gone.
He reached for the phone on his desk and contacted his head of security. “A man just left my office. Use CCTV cameras to track him and get me information on him. Who he works for, what he’s doing here—and how he was able to incapacitate my secretary and get into my office to threaten me with a gun when I’m paying millions for my security.”
There was a sharp intake of breath. “Yes, Sheikh,” Abdullah said stiffly.
“Call me when you learn who he is.” Zain hung up and got to his feet, his body thrumming with agitation. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he strode out of his office and called the head of security of his island. “Is Aiden in the house?” he said, keeping his voice low.