Page 70 of Good As Hell

“Shukran lake.” Giving me, brief smile she turns to her bestie. “What’s going on?”

“I-I asked Lyric to sing at my wedding,” Khadijah rushes out.

“I told you —” Shaking her head, she looks between us, her mouth pressed into a firm line of disapproval. “Hassan will not be pleased.”

“He’ll be okay. This is my decision.” I cut in. So much of my autonomy has been striped from me. If I can get more of it back by singing for Khadijah, then I’m going to take it.

“He’s not going to like it,” Amani advises.

“Let me worry about that.” I say with more confidence than I feel. “Here, have some petite fours.” I hold out the tray to them with a determined smile.

“I seeyou are determined to keep putting your life in danger.” The deep baritone has me looking up over the book I’m reading.

“Who told you, Amani?” I snap the dark academia set at spooky college Savanah away with a snap, ready to go to her rooms and give her a piece of my mind.

“Did she tell you she’s been sneaking Ayaan out of his rooms to play when she comes home?” I ask, taking a sip of the tea that seems very symbolic of all the gossip spreading around this messy ass palace.

“No, and she wasn’t the one to tell me. I have spies everywhere. Mainly to protect you and Ayaan, but they also inform me of potential threats.” Striding over to my side of the bed, he sits beside me, taking my hand, since I put the tea down at this stunning revelation.

“How long have you had people watching me?” I ask.

He looks at me for a long moment, then sighs, ripping his hands through his dense curls. “Since the attack by Asif. I wanted to respect your privacy but that went out the window after the poisoning. Now, there are guards posted at key points since people think they can take you from me — for your safety.” He lets that last part dangle there as a mark against Nikko Savalle, which he thinks is still unresolved.

“If you expect this to work, you have to include me on things — High Consort or not.” My words are soft, but my stare is hard. “The position you put me naming me High Consort has had far-reaching consequences. I don’t know how you can’t see it.” I’m so dang proud of myself for not screaming my frustration into his beautifully cruel face.

The moments that follow are tense. I ready myself for the anger and threats.

“I fucked up.” The words seem ripped from him. Somber jade eyes meet mine as he laces his fingers through mine in a strong, unyielding grip.

“I lost my mind when I found out about Ayaan. All I thought about was punishing you. Then I became obsessed with keeping you. Knowing you don’t need me, I took your choice — because I could. It was the move of a fucking coward, not the man you or our son deserve. Still, I’ll not lie and say that I won’t do everything in my power to keep you. I can’t fucking breathe without you. All I can promise is to earn my place by your side.”

Bending his head, he presses a soft kiss to the back of my hand. Raising his eyes to meet mine, he slowly turns my hand, exposing my palm. Gaze never leaving mine he presses a warm kiss to the center of my palm. Everything intimate seizes within me at the sign of devotion, admiration.

“Hibibti, will you be my Queen Consort?”

In that moment, the lyrics of the song I never got to sing to him, flood through me.”

The words resonate in every fiber of me when I whisper. “Yes.”

The words resound when I take him inside of me and he whispers those words over me again and again. I know he means them with every fiber of my being.

The words crash around me as he takes me to paradise and we transcend even that.

The words cloak me when he holds me and whispers his promise of life time again, “You are mine and I respect you, I will value you, love only you, I will be tender to you.”

Cupping is face I say back to him, “You are mine, Hassan, I will respect you, I will value you, love only you and I will be tender to you.”

His hand covers mine. “I never imagined I’d find the one who spoke to my heart.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

THE EMPRESS GET’S HER LICK BACK

LYRIC ~THE WEDDING~

“Gotdamn, I love her,” Hassan’s heavy whisper tickles my ear and can’t help but giggle. “You can tell you got your start with hip-hop videos.”

“Aye. It made me and Sadiq billionaires.” He shrugs with the arrogance of someone who made his own way. I smirk, knowing exactly how that feels.

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