Page 46 of The Sheikh's Secret Heir

The sheikh’s lips purse. “No. He has been avoiding our calls.”

I let out a shuddering breath. So, Faiz has holed himself up. How very typical of him.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, not even sure what I’m apologizing for this time. Perhaps it is the general catastrophe of the whole situation.

“You are a good employee, Tara,” he says. “A good friend. If I were in your shoes, I would have done the same.”

I blink away the moisture threatening to spill from my eyes, touched by their compassion yet still awash with sorrow. It’s a strange dichotomy, this relief intermingled with grief.

There’s a knock on the door, and one of the royal advisors enters. He bends his head, speaking to the sheikh and sheikha in hushed tones, and I take the opportunity to slip out of the room. They have enough to deal with, and they don’t need me hanging around intruding on their space any longer.

I’m barely noticed by the rest of the staff as I walk through the palace. They’re occupied with conversations about the scandal, with their theories of who was behind the leak. I wonder, too, but it’s a path I won’t go too far down. In the end, it doesn’t matter. What’s done is done. There’s only one more question that’s truly important.

Where does my life go from here?

Doubt creeps in like the cool shadows cast by the setting sun. I’ve no roots in this place, no ties beyond the walls of this palace that now feels more like a gilded cage. The time I’ve spent with Ali, those fleeting moments with Faiz — they’ve kindled a yearning for something more, something beyond reach.

A family of my own, the warmth of love returned, a home filled with laughter and not veiled secrets. Those desires, once dormant, now flicker fiercely inside me, stoked by what could never be.

This world of royalty and hidden truths has become too intricate, too fraught with complication. And Faiz — noble, distant Faiz — is a dream I must awaken from.

No, this cannot be my endgame. The realization settles over me, heavy and yet also freeing. I’ve been playing the part of a supporting character for far too long — to my parents, then the sheikh and sheikha, then Faiz and Ali.

And now? Now it’s time to step it up. It is time to become my own main character.

CHAPTER 25

FAIZ

Idraw a heavy curtain back an inch and inspect the front gates. The hordes of leeches — journalists, photographers, citizens who never liked me and are here to watch my downfall — still cling to the front of my property. It’s late in the afternoon, but their numbers have only grown through the hours. I won’t be surprised if, come nightfall, some of them start pitching tents.

“Can we go to the park today, Baba?” Ali’s voice slices through the silence.

I turn from the window, my gaze falling on his hopeful face. He stands there, a small figure clutching a toy car. It’s such a simple request, but of course I can’t grant it to him. Even before today, I wouldn’t have been able to take him to the park. An outing I only allowed once in a blue moon, on account of him being found out, he was always escorted by Amina.

“Not today, Habibi. Another time,” I say, the lie coating my tongue like poison.

“Why not?” he asks. “Is it because of all those people that want to look at our house? Why? Why do they want to look?”

It’s time. Time to let him peek behind the curtain — just a little. I kneel down to his level, taking in his bright face that seems to trust the world and everyone in it. And why shouldn’t he? His whole world has been these grounds, the few people that he knows. He’s never played with any other children, never seen a school or a grocery store. Because he knows so little, he trusts all of it without question.

“You know how sometimes, when we play hide-and-seek, you try to find the best hiding spot so no one can find you?” I start, trying to frame it in terms he might grasp.

“Uh-huh,” he nods, enthusiasm lighting up his features.

“And you remember that I am a royal, yes? And what that means?”

“Yes, like a knight, but bigger!”

“Exactly. Also… being a royal is a bit like playing that hide-and-seek game all the time.” I choose my words carefully, dodging the full weight of our reality. “Some people want to find us too much. They don’t always want to play fair.”

He tilts his head, processing this new information. “Like the photographers?”

“Exactly like them,” I confirm with a solemn nod.

“But I’m good at hide-and-seek,” Ali protests, puffing out his chest slightly. “I can handle the photographers.”

A soft chuckle escapes me. “I know you can, my brave boy.” I ruffle his hair, pride and sorrow mingling within me. “Butsometimes, we keep the curtains closed to make sure the game stays fun for everyone, okay?”

---