Page 5 of Dirty Wild Sultan

“You should think before you speak, Nasrin. You are talking to the Sultan of Maahnoor and as a sultan, I can order you to marry him,” he threatened, his face turning sharp and angry.

My heart hammered in my ears as I looked at him. “I know I buried you with my mother, Sadiq.” He took a sharp breath, his eyes wide as he stared at me.

The door of my room opened and Imran stormed in. “Stop, both of you. Sadiq, we both know we will find a way to import better food to Maahnoor in some way or another. But it won’t happen by selling our sister to that old reek. Not when I am still alive.”

I held my breath when they stared down at each other. Despite being three years younger than me, they both had the same height. I loved Imran more than Sadiq, but it didn’t mean I wanted them to fight for me. Especially when I had already rejected that sheikh.

“Sadiq, please leave my room. I don’t want to clean either of your blood from my freshly washed sheets,” I said, crossing my arms.

Sadiq looked at me, his jaw clenched as he walked out of my room, bumping his shoulder against Imran. We both sighed when he left the room.

“I am sorry for what happened, Nasrin,” Imran whispered when I loosened my hair from the braid, running my hand through the dark hair.

“What do you mean? You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I know, but I wish I could help you. I know you don’t want to get married yet, Father and Sadiq keep pestering you for it,” he said, his voice soft.

My heart ached hearing him. I chuckled and held his hand. “You are my younger brother, Imran. I have never blamed you for anything. You should stop apologizing for others’ deeds. I wish situations were different but…”

He nodded, his hair falling on his forehead as he swooped me in a hug. I sighed and hugged him back, wishing we had a better familial relationship.

“I know I can’t help you with the proposal, but I have a small gift for you,” he said, pulling away and handing me a piece of paper. I frowned, taking it and reading over it.

“It’s a ticket.”

“Ah, so you can read.”

I pinched his arm and, ignoring his yelp, I said, “Why are you giving me a ticket to Azmia?”

“Because I want you to go have fun? It’s a small gift for graduating with a master’s degree in veterinary science.”

“Aw, come here!” I hugged him again, cherishing the ticket as if it was a prized possession. No one had thought about gifting me anything but him.

“Wait, but why would you give me a ticket to Azmia? Father has a bad relationship with that country,” I pointed out.

He winked at me. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Besides, tomorrow is their princess’s birthday, so everyone will be busy celebrating. You can do whatever you want and have fun. No one will know who you are.”

Imran was right. No one will know me. That I am Nasrin Elbaz, Princess of Maahnoor. I can go out, tour the capital and even spend the night out.

I kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Imran. You are the best brother anyone could ever have.”

“You are exaggerating,” he mumbled, smiling and wiping his cheek when he walked out of my room.

I knew in my heart that he would have been a far better choice as a Sultan of Maahnoor than Sadiq.

Looking down at the ticket, a grin tugged at my lips. I would be someone else for two days and have a taste of whatever freedom I could have.

3

Zain

My head was throbbing as I stepped inside the club. The guards kept their distance, but they followed me, doubling the protection around the club and the enormous expanse of the three floors. We owned several of the clubs and hotels in Azmia, especially the most popular in our capital, which celebrities used to party and forget about themselves without the fear of paparazzi.

My pace was steady, annoyance from the meeting with the twin princesses filling my steps as I made my way to the second floor. Red, blue, yellow and green neon lights danced through the dark walls covered in thin velvet fabric. People laughed, danced and made out against the obsidian pillars, the bartenders fulfilling the orders, our guards making sure everything went smoothly with no incident. I eyed the dance stage. People donned various dress shirts and short dresses dancing with their hands above their head, swaying to the upbeat music played by the DJ.

I felt envious, wishing I could go down and mingle with the crowd. Get drunk and dance and have a headache from the hangover, not from the stress of ruling the country, making sure I was the best every day.

Women giggled as they brushed past me, eyeing me. Color slashed my cheeks as I cleared my throat and climbed the stairs to reach the VIP floor. The bodyguard let me pass, my eyes taking in the circular tables, blood-colored couches, the exotic scent of the air.

---