Page 18 of Good As Hell

Watching Hassan place him in his new bed, I almost feel like I’m intruding on a special moment.

He bends to press a kiss on his head, then steps back to give me space to do the same.

Bending, I inhale his precious scent again and kiss his soft little cheek. My nose stings, and my throat threatens to close from this new reality my little baby gets to experience.

Rising, I see Hassan has already left the room.

I guess he can’t wait to tear into me, I muse as I follow the path back out through to the main living area, pointedly ignoring the bed. I don’t even allow myself to think of him and his fiancee sharing this bed. Ignoring the twist in my chest, I try not to think about what he does in the bedroom with his fiancée and other lovers. I speed up until I come face to face with the avengingangel standing before the seating area with his hands clasped behind his back like a disapproving teacher.

“You will explain yourself.” Severity drips from every word. His face cut from stone and his eyes are chips of ice as his gaze rakes over me with an emotion akin to hatred and barely banked disgust. Something I’m I very familiar with having seeing it so much growing up.

“I found out I was pregnant a few months after that night when I had a check-up before the tour was to start.” I have to swallow past the ache I thought I’d assuaged from the way he treated me that morning. First, making me believe I was something special, that what we experienced that night was magical, only to be told with annoyed disdain that he belonged to another.

I take a breath and continue, “I can’t lie and say didn’t think about ending the pregnancy — I did all of two seconds when the doctor read the results to me. But, I’m grown. I have more than enough money to take care of Ayaan all on my own, so I decided to keep him and raise him alone. I had no intention of bothering you or intruding on your life.” Succinctly I give him the facts without all the sturm und drang of what really occurred like the crying, screaming and throwing up at not being pregnant but having a child I knew in my heart his father would never want. The man proudly said he couldn’t stand me.

“The fuck you mean you were going to keep him and raise him alone?” He grits out, his tone low and furious. A hot flush of anger rides high on his cheeks. “He’s my son.”

“And you are engaged. The marriage is in what, a couple months? I had to send my regrets. It didn’t seem right coming to the wedding of the man I fucked.” I shrug, watching rage fill his features.

“How is the bride to be and where is she, anyways?” Looking around expectantly, schooling my face to one of innocent wonder.

“She’s fine and not here,” he snaps, fury still riding him like a wave at high tide off the coast of my house in Malibu.

“Busy making wedding plans, I bet. I hear it’s going to be the wedding of the century. I hate to miss it,” I say with fake sadness.

“Don’t worry, you won’t.” Crossing his arms, another stoic mask drops over his face as he slowly blinks at me.

“This little visit has been nice, and I didn’t cut up when you had my flight diverted because I know it was shock finding out like this, but I’m going on tour. You’re already making me late for my show in Cairo—” I trail off at the slow shake of his head.

The air is dead between us. Tension draws a tight line as we regard one another. It’s in that moment I’m more than aware I have no power here. He’s a prince and I may as well be a pauper. I’m pretty sure those guards took my passport and my phone before they gave me back my bag.

“You’re not leaving here with my son, Lyric. Should you wish to once he becomes acclimated to his new home, you may. But understand this. In this country, by my faith and by my law my son belongs to me. There will be no shared custody. If you leave my country without my express permission, you will be blocked from ever entering again. You will never see Ayaan again. If you attempt to abscond with my heir, you will be killed on sight.”

Standing before him, I absorb the verbal pummeling he just gave me too shocked to do anything other than absorb the ruthless promise of his words.

Missing everything that transpires afterward until I realize attendant is guiding me out of the room.

“Lyric.” His voice is almost melodic in the haze of my shock.

Turning to face him I’m stunned by the smile most of all. His beautiful blazingly sinister smile.

“I do so hope you try.”

Chapter Six

BEST LAID PLANS

HASSAN

(Rabat, Morocco)

“You will explain yourself.” I eye the headline slammed on my desk the up to the fury etched across my father and sovereign’s face.

THE EMPRESS ABDUCTED BY CROWN PRINCE HASSAN AL RASHEED OF MOROCCO

“Is this true son?” My mother queries. Her deep brown eyes are big with concern and yet I watch as within seconds as she shrewdly pieces the events of the last few weeks together — my abrupt departure for Fez, me staying there until last night when I had meetings that could not be avoided nor delayed further and definitely not held at palace in Fez when my son is there.

My heart pangs at the thought of even leaving him this long but I promised him I’d be back to tuck him in tonight. Now seeing the news literally unfolded before me I don’t know if I will be able to but I’ll be damned if I don’t try.

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