Page 64 of Deadly Betrayal
“At the cost of your own life?” He rubbed hisforehead. “I don’t get it.”
“Kaden, you risk your life every day toprotect Nic. Why would you not expect the same of me? Laila is aninnocent girl, my late husband’s daughter. I must do what I can tosave her from a hellish future.”
“As beautiful as this all is”—Khalid tappedhis watch—“we need to hurry. It’s a long way back to Kabul, and I’drather leave the city before Khan Tariq finds us here.”
“How would he?” Azita asked. “We’re hoursfrom Fayzabad. Besides, were you not planning to attend the weddingon Saturday? As Laila’s guardian, you should be there.”
“Khan Tariq’s reach is long. He has men inevery big town in the northeastern provinces.”
“You’re not telling me everything.”
He snarled. “Nor do I need to,khanoman.”
My wife.Like a scalpel, the wordssliced through her heart, shredding it to small bloody pieces.Not yet!
Kaden shoved his way between them, his facemere inches from Khalid’s. “Why is this wedding, this deal, soimportant? The man can’t be so desperate for an eleven-year-oldgirl he’s never met that he’d have men on the lookout for anyonewhomightoppose it. There’s something else going on here.And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll start talking.” Kaden’smenacing tone sent a shiver up her spine.
Khalid seemed to brace himself. His eyesshifted around the room as he worked out what new lies to tell.Finally, he cleared his throat. “Khan Tariq will be receiving aconsiderable sum of money.”
“My husband’s money,” she spat at him.
“And you?” Kaden asked.
Good question.Khalid was too shrewdto enter into such an agreement without coming out the winner. Andhe’d already admitted the union would benefit him.
Khalid shrugged. “I get to see my niecewell-married.”
“Bullshit.” Kaden crossed his arms, themuscles bunching and releasing with the tension radiating off hisbig body.
Khalid blew out a breath. “The terms of thedeal do not matter. What is important is that Azita and I need tomarry as soon as possible. I do not want to see her ruined… orworse.” He looked up at Kaden. “Do you?”
“No.”
“Then do what needs to be done.”
“I can protect her better than you can.”
“How? Willyoumarry her? Take herhome with you when you leave?” Kaden averted his gaze, and Khalidchuckled. “I didn’t think so. American superheroes never havewives, do they?” He took Azita’s wrist and pulled her to his side.“So you see, Azitajan? This was not about you at all. YourAmerican did not come here for you. Does that make you sad? Okay, Iwill be charitable and say he did not come hereonlyforyou.”
She struggled to get her hand out of hisgrasp, but he was too strong for her to break free. Nic steppedaround the table, and Kaden immediately blocked him from reachingher.
“See, even now, he picks the actor over you.”Khalid dragged her to the door. “Come, we must leave.”
Azita resisted, although it was more showthan truth. She’d made so many mistakes, made so many poor choices.Arching her neck, she tried to see Kaden, to catch a last glimpseof him, but when she did, her heart broke.
“Forgive me,” she mouthed, lungs devoid ofair.
“All will be well, my sister,” Shahram said,his voice soft, when they entered the hallway.
But she knew the truth. Nothing would ever beall right again. All the emotion Kaden had shown her, all thecaring and respect that had made her feel so special, so honored,was gone. He’d looked at her like a stranger, one he didn’tunderstand. Perhaps didn’t even like. He was the one person who’dtried to help her, and to repay his kindness, she’d betrayed him.Again.
How had it all gone so wrong?
Chapter 16
Tariq and his men sat cross-legged on anafghan carpet in the dining room of the home they’d appropriated astheir headquarters. The building was large, made of clay bricks,and had belonged to a distant member of the royal family before theking had been overthrown by his brother-in-law, who had namedhimself the first president of Afghanistan. What a joke.
Dagar, a young boy who’d joined them a fewmonths back, carried a large pot into the room. He flipped theplain rice onto a waiting plate. Another plate held a mound ofchaplikebab. Tariq’s stomach growled at the scents risingwith the steam. Dagar wasn’t much good for fighting, but the boycould cook. The single men who regularly dined with him had allbeen much happier since the boy’s arrival.
