Page 71 of Good As Hell

“Thank you for asking Anaïs to meet with me about the champagne branding.” I give him the doe eyes I know he can’t resist.

“Damn, you keep looking at me like that. I’ll bring Akchiro Takeda himself to meet with you,” he chuffs, adjusting himself just as the car pulls into the covered garage of the venue.

Just then, my phone chimes. “Hey, babe.” Smiling down at Fi and an already wiggling Ayaan, I lean over so Hassan can see his son’s antics.

“Ayaan.” One word of authority from his daddy has my son straitening and acting like he has some sense. “Be good for Fi until we get back.”

Ayaan nods, like he’s been given a huge responsibility.

“Okay, Baba.” He beams at us over the video chat.

Hassan absently rubs soothing circles on my back, knowing how hard it was for me to leave our son. Last time I did an event we all almost lost our lives and unlike the crew Asif led, we still haven’t found the crew or the ringleaders.

Every security precaution has been put in place as a deterrence. Hassan reached out to the Nikko and his Bastard Brother Syndicate to see if there were any whispers within their network about doing a job.

“They’d expect us to finish the job we were entrusted with, Hassan.” They told us in the SCIF Hassan set up to share secret intelligence about my safety.

Now that I’m Crown Princess; a title bestowed secretly after the first attack. Then publicly the night after he spoke new words of promise to me. My safety is a matter of national security.

“After the attack, I realized I’d inadvertently I put you in danger. Immediately, I rectified that, but making it public will leave no doubt.” The decree went out the same day.

Many things changed soon after. The irreverence the press used in the coverage of me ended. I assume they feel more loyalty to Her Royal Highness than a High Consort. No matter the title, I’m the Empress tonight.

The new driver opens the door with a bow. Hassan steps out, reaching in to take my hand like I’m his cherished treasure. The crowd swoons when he presses a chaste kiss to the back of my hand.

Hands linked, we make our way into the venue. I’m scheduled to sing a set at the venue. Khadijah cleverly came up with the idea of having a pay-per-view exclusive that will show me performing only for a people willing to pay and undisclosed amount for the privilege. The FOMO had millionaires and a billionaire willing to pay upward of ten-thousand dollars aticket. That alone nearly fully funded several of the many infrastructure projects Hassan has planned for the earthquake survivors.

“I’m glad I get to witness the nuptials.” I tell Hassan as we are shown our seats of honor.

Soon Khadijah is brought in on the amira, with her wedding party celebrating all around her.

Deacon, his brothers and several friends follow. Though this is a moment of celebration, with the looks of Bishop, Porter and Priest Shipmoore shoot our way, I can think nothing less than menacing.

They definitely blame us for Prosper’s disappearance, and from the looks on their faces, they will confront Hassan at the first opportunity.

Forcing my attention to away from their stony expressions of the billionaire Shipmoore brothers, I focus on the beautiful ceremony.

The love that Deacon Shipmoore has for Khadijah is so palpable. My heart nearly bursts when she reaches up and wipes a stray tear from his hard, chiseled jaw.

The praises and cheers are overwhelming as soon as the marriage is blessed by the smiling Imam. They have a secular wedding planned in Great Britain, later. In interviews, Deacon said he hoped that his sister, Prosper, would be able to attend.

“Your Highness, if you’d follow me.” An attendant bows before me as the wedding guests are led to the reception area.

“I’ll see you in there.” Smiling up at Hassan, I move to follow the attendant, but he stops me.

“Aye.” He stops me before I can make a move to follow the woman. “If anything seems off, hit the code. Your security is outside the door.” He reminds me of the security protocols drilled into me since the return from Western Cape.

“I know, babe.” I say for his ears only as he presses a kiss to the crown of my head with reverence he’s shown more and more every day.

“You have your watch and phone.” He flashes his for emphasis.

“I’ll call you.” Cupping his face. I kiss him, not caring of the audience. I watch as a self-satisfied smile spreads across his face.

Damn, he fine.I think to myself and I give him a little wave as I follow the attendant out.

As soon as I step out into the corridor, I’m flanked by my six black garbed guards on either side. Totally protected on all sides, I walk with confidence down the hall to the room assigned for me.

I’d had my costumes sent ahead. Fi designed an ornate headpiece which would allow me not to have to change my hair style.

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