Page 66 of Tarek

“That slit is high and your breasts are showing,” he mutters as he steps back to take in my dress.

I wait for him to say something negative about my dress or the way I look in it. The moment he utters something negative, that would be the end of whatever this is.

“You’re sexy as fuck,” he grumbles.

I blink as if to clear my brain my brain fog. “Excuse me?”

He fixes his sleeves, walks into my space once more, bending he kisses the top of my breast. “I said you look sexy as fuck.”

“Thank you.” I smile as he walks out of the bedroom to the living room. I follow him out, grabbing my black pearl clutch.

He stretches out his arm, shoving it into the sleeve of his jacket. “What time does this thing end?”

I reach forward and fix the back of his jacket tapping his lapels in place. “Around 11pm.”

“Call me when you’re done,” he says.

“What would happen if I don’t?” I ask, loving the feel of my risking his ire.

His chuckle is deep, he leans forward and kisses my forehead. “Get your things, treasure. Let me get you in the car.”

I nod, switching off the lights, grabbing my keys, et cetera.

It doesn’t take us long to reach the black limo parked in front of me. The chauffeur gets out of the car to open the door, but Tarek shakes his head and tells him no.

“One day you will have a gala to attend, and you will skip it to have pizza and chill with me,” Tarek says. I love the thought of having pizza and hanging out with Tarek. Getting to know him, seeing him comfortable in his own surroundings.

“Yes, one day,” I reply.

Tarek opens the door for me and leans on it as I slide onto the seat.

“You’re sure I can’t change your mind, I’m a Michelin star chef after all,” he bends to tuck my skirt into the car.

“Yes, I am sure.” I want to jump out and say forget it. I will send a text to my brother. But I know family is important, and Tarek can’t always have his way.

“Pity,” he rises and dust his hands off. “You do look beautiful, stunning actually,”

“I know. You look very handsome,” I reply.

He holds the handle of the door and before he closes it he says, “I know.”

There is a heavy thump on the roof signifying that the chauffeur can go.

As we pull off, I look back to see Tarek standing with his hands in his pocket. His small wave was the last thing I saw as my car bent the corner.

ChapterSix

Dereck

Eureka. Those were the words I uttered when the detective sent me pictures of a heavily pregnant Miranda. I didn’t think she could become more beautiful, but I was wrong. Even in the black-and-white photo that I left on my desk, she glowed. I paid a large sum of money to have the detective follow her around, to keep her safe. Three o’clock yesterday morning he called me to say Miranda was in labor. The moments fizzled by as I made calls and preparations for her comfort. Now hours later I am pacing in the secret room of a hospital waiting to see my son.

Miranda doesn’t know I am here at Bellmar hospital. I know she will be puzzled by her private suite versus the shared room that she was expecting. She will be baffled that her bill was cleared due to “a glitch” in the hospital’s system. I feel like the light blue walls are closing in. I have a son. A son who will never know about me or carry my name. I tug at my tie, my palms become sweaty. I have never been claustrophobic before but this damn room has no windows and the door was closed. I need to get out of here. If I’m locked in, I could be here for a long while before anyone discovered me. This was a fucking dumb idea, I should just go out there and get Miranda and my son. But fucking Ilyana, made everything difficult with her trickery. The passing of time was turning out to be my biggest heart break. Every day without Miranda, a little piece of me dies.

I feel like I am spiraling. There is a heaviness in my chest, it’s not pain or fear. But it’s dark and suffocating and it’s clawing my insides wanting to escape. I am a man with so much power but yet I have no control over my own life. Why did I do this? My feet twitches with an urge to leave. I feel defeated, I don’t even know how I should get out of this. This was a stupid idiotic mistake, seeing a son that I can never have. The moment I thought about leaving the door opens and a nurse ushers a clear plastic bassinet into the room. My breath leaves me.

“Wash your hands in the sink behind you,” she says in a hushed tone.

All I could do is nod, my eyes never leaving the bundle in the bassinet. I don’t remember how long I washed my hands, but the moment the nurse picked up my son she rocked him from side to side. I place my hands behind my back watching over the shoulder of the nurse.

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