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)
“He’s a bit of a drama queen, isn’t he?” Aiden said, trying to lighten up the tense mood.
“He’s a spoiled brat, that’s what he is,” Zain said, slipping into a thobe. “Stay in bed, it’s still early. Seeing you will just piss him off more. Knowing him, he’s probably halfway to his yacht anyway. I have to calm him down before he does something stupid.” Fully dressed, Zain leaned down, kissing him briefly on the lips. “I should be back before lunch.”
Aiden leaned forward, wanting a real kiss, but Zain was already straightening up. “It’ll take that long?”
Zain grimaced. “Gadiel has quite a temper.”
“Don’t be too hard on him,” Aiden said, catching Zain’s hand and squeezing it. “He feels hurt. I don’t think it’s even about me. He probably feels like you’ve been lying to him all his life—that you didn’t tell him that you can relate to his situation. He felt alone, and now he feels betrayed.”
Zain looked at their hands and then looked back at his face. “You’re too nice for your own good. He called you a whore.”
Aiden shrugged. “He was angry. And he does have a reason to be angry.”
Shaking his head exasperatedly, Zain let go of his hand and left.
Aiden sighed, his whole body feeling unsatisfied, as it always did when he didn’t get enough of Zain’s attention. He rolled his eyes with a laugh, exasperated by his own clinginess. He was going to have all the attention he wanted once Zain came back.
Aiden had no idea how wrong he was.
Chapter Nineteen
Aiden had been getting dressed after his bath when the noise outside the room caught his attention.
It sounded like… footsteps, many of them, and they were approaching rapidly.
Frowning, he slipped into Zain’s shirt and opened the door to check what was going on.
He was greeted with a gun aimed at his face.
Aiden froze, and then slowly lifted his hands as his mind worked to process what was happening.
There were seven armed men in the corridor. They looked strange, and it took Aiden a moment to realize why: he’d gotten so used to Arabic facial features that seeing Caucasian features took him aback. Intruders. They were clearly intruders. The house was guarded by at least a dozen security guards—had been. It was highly unlikely that these big, armed men had managed to sneak past them.
One of the men stepped forward and said something in what sounded like Italian to the guy who held the gun to Aiden’s face.
The guy nodded and let the hand with the gun drop to his side.
Aiden exhaled. “Who the hell are you?” he said, wishing he hadn’t left his brand-new phone on the nightstand.
The man who had just issued the order to drop the gun said in accented English, “We’re here to rescue you.”
“Rescue me?” Aiden repeated numbly, blinking.
“Yes,” he said, laying a hand on Aiden’s arm and steering him none-too-gently down the corridor. “My name is Lorenzo. We need to leave quickly. We dealt with the guards, but we can’t be sure that one of the staff hadn’t managed to contact someone, asking for reinforcements.”
Nausea churned in Aiden’s gut, rising to his throat. “You k-killed them?”
Lorenzo shrugged. “Some of them might be just knocked out, but yeah, more or less. They won’t be a problem. But there isn’t enough of us if more people arrive soon. That’s why we need to leave quickly— What?”
Aiden stared, wide-eyed, at the body in the main hall, lying in a pool of blood. It was Ibrahim, the young guy who had served them breakfast just yesterday.
Unable to hold back the nausea, he doubled over and puked all over the floor.
Lorenzo sighed, having the nerve to look disgusted, as if Aiden’s puke was more sickening than the dead body a few feet away. “Come on,” he said impatiently, tugging Aiden toward the front door.
“Let go of me!” Aiden snapped, wrenching his arm free and backing away. “I’m not going anywhere with a bunch of killers!”
The men exchanged looks that didn’t need translation: they looked as if Aiden were the crazy and unreasonable one.
Lorenzo sighed again. “I should have expected this. Your brother is a lot more cool-headed, but you’re still just a kid.”
Aiden’s stomach dropped. “My brother? You kidnapped Jordan too? Where is he? What did you do to him?”
After a moment’s pause, Lorenzo said, “If you want your brother to live, you will come with us, quietly and quickly. Or he will die.”
One of the men laughed meanly but was quickly silenced by Lorenzo’s look.
“Let’s go,” Lorenzo barked out again, grabbing Aiden’s arm.
This time Aiden didn’t resist. If these assholes had Jordan, he couldn’t risk his life. He would have to comply—for now.
But his resolve weakened when he saw more bodies in the grounds around the house. God, why? So many lives taken to “rescue” him? It made no sense. These assholes weren’t rescuers. They were cold-blooded killers. What did they want with him and Jordan?