Page 55 of Dirty Wild Sultan

I interrupted him, “Apologize to your daughter for what you said to her this morning.”

His nose flared, glaring at his own daughter. Khalid was tense, holding the fork in his hand tightly. I just prayed that Hamid wouldn’t spew any more stupidity or else Khalid would fulfill his threat to him. With a fork, if it came to be.

“Apologize. Now.”

He looked at her, Nasrin’s face devoid of any emotion, when her father said, “I apologize for my behavior, Nasrin.”

“You are forgiven,” she replied.

“You may leave.” I waved my hand, and the guards moved away. “But remember that I do not take threats to my family lightly. I hope you remember that on your next visit to Azmia. I hope your stay was well.”

Rahim stopped him, his eyes fixing on me as he bowed. “I am afraid, Sultan and Sultana, that Hamid Elbaz can’t leave just yet.”

“What do you mean?” he bellowed, his face red with anger.

“What is it, Rahim? Did something happen?” I asked, not enjoying the tension hovering in the air. Everyone looked uncomfortable.

“There is something you need to hear, Sultan,” he said. “Alone.”

Nasrin’s hand clenched around me, her expression worried.

“It’s okay, you can share it with me and my family,” I announced, all the other guests leaving their seats. I, along with Nasrin and my siblings remained seated. I didn’t want to trouble Grandmother, so I asked her maids to walk her to her room. Nasrin’s father glared at all of us as he was forced to sit down on the chair.

“If that’s what you wish,” Rahim said, and fixed his eyes on Hamid. “Do you want to tell us what happened when their mothers left for London?”

My spine straightened, so did Khalid’s. “What is this about?”

Hamid’s face drained of color and he looked at us, his daughter, before averting his eyes. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Rahim, what is this about?” I repeated once again, my voice hard.

My advisor looked at me, his eyes softening. “I am sorry to be a bearer of this news, Sultan… and Sultana. But Hamid Elbaz planned the death of your mothers. That airplane crash was intentional. He wanted to kill them so he could weaken Salman Al Latif and fight Azmia from him.”

My heart dropped in my stomach, my ears ringing. I shook my head, “That couldn’t be… why would he kill them to fight Azmia?”

“Is this true,baba?” Nasrin’s voice was weak when she looked across the table.

Her father did not meet her eyes.

“Did you kill my mothers?” Khalid asked, standing up from the chair. I could see what was running through his eyes. The anger and the silent threat in his voice.

I stopped him, holding him back before he could kill Hamid Elbaz. “Hear him out, Khalid.”

“He killed our mothers. I don’t want to hear from him. I want to ki—”

“Khalid,” Zara said, her face ashen as she looked at us. They were her mothers, too. “Please, let us hear what he has to say.”

Once we were all settled down, one of the guards stepped forward with a small knife pointed to Hamid’s neck. I didn’t look at Nasrin.

“Speak,” I ordered.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, his withered face scrunching. “It wasn’t supposed to end up like that. I had envied Salman since the day both of us were crowned as sultans. He was my friend, but I envied him. His riches, his charm, his strength. That envy and greed for more made me want to take Azmia from him. The only thing, his country, that he ever cared about. He didn’t even care about his wives or his children. I had seen him laugh about them, mock them, I couldn’t understand how a powerful man like him could be so cruel towards his own family.”

My jaw clenched when he continued, his eyes looking at me. “So, I planned to kill him. To do that, I became his close friend and learned that he would visit London, leaving his wives and children in the palace. I had a bomb planted in his private plane but I didn’t know that he would change his plans last minute. That he stayed back in the palace and let his wives go to London.”

I closed my eyes and took a shaky breath. He had planted a bomb on the plane that killed my mothers. He was the reason that our father mourned for them and hurt us more.

“Sultan, we have to—”

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