Chapter Five
THE RECKONING
LYRIC
I haven’t seen my son in the two hours since they brought me to this suite of rooms. I’m about to blow this bitch up. Ignoring the plushness of the thick handwoven carpet and the gentle glow of the room, I pace back and forth agitated dread vibrating within every fiber of my being.
I was being good, I promised myself I would be better I wasn’t going to raise my son in the manner I was. No toxic bullshit. No one using him for leverage. I told him about Hassan from the moment he was understood what his faced looked like. I would let hims kiss a photo every night after his prayers. Hassan though not present in his every day life was a real for him as I was. He saw videos of him. Ayaan knows him as his daddy. It was the best I could do after trying my best to figure out how I was going to tell him he had a child, a son, a possible heir. My decision not to tell him plagued me for the entire pregnancy. He was engaged, unapologetically taking lovers, and some part of me didn’t know what a man like him would do when someone he obviously couldn’t stand and had so little regard for that he couldn’t even be bothered to tell me about his engagement came to him to say her contraception failed and she was pregnant.
I know the moment I found out I was keeping Ayaan. He was the one being that was mine created if not by love then an amazing night of passion.
The gift Hassan gave me that night was not only me having sex on my own terms, but my beautiful baby. I wanted Ayaan to love him, even he never got the chance to know or be acknowledged my him.
I know I was wrong. I took the coward’s way in not telling him but I just didn’t want to ever see him again after that morning. No one was more shocked than me when two month’s later at the routine physical before the start of the tour I found out that I was eight weeks pregnant. The doctor immediately offered to terminate. Being employed by Creative Chaos I think she thought it was a no brainer. Instead, I had her remove the defunct IUD, which was only good for ten years and I was well past the six month grace passed and needed to get a new one I found out later.
I got another private doctor who took care of me during my pregnancy. I like Dr. Garrett but her staff was gossipy and I didn’t want my condition leaked. Dr. Kassan afforded me the privacy I needed, plus I heard how Delightful raved about her when she was pregnant with Baby Justice.
Thinking of my friend, I know from the text of row after row of frowny faces she sent that she’s mad that I didn’t tell her. I just didn’t want to put her in the position of having to lie to FADE. I wasn’t going to be the cause of them having problems over my decisions. Just as I hate the fact Fi is having to deal with the repercussions now.
Along with Ayaan, I also have no idea where she is. The Rolls-Royce she was placed in peeled off in the opposite direction of the one we took to come to this palace.
Walking over to the seating area facing the interior garden, I look down at the now chilled tea service. My tummy rumbles but I know if I dare eat I’ll hurl all the food from the sheer amount of nerves I feel.
The softness in Hassan’s eyes as he looked down at Ayaan could be rivaled by noting but the sheer malice and rage burning in his eyes as he beheld me. If the earth opened then it would probably be a greater mercy than what the prince has in store for me. And I deserve it, I know.
I’d never expect him to understand the fear. He’s always had power from since before he know he had it let alone wield it. It’s the complete antithesis of a poor girl growing up in the Elyton Village projects. I know he could never understand a woman like me. The things I had to do just to survive. He’s already said he didn’t like me. I’m sure that’s firmly moved over to the hatred column. I would expect nothing less. He can join my family.
I’m aware of every second ticking by until an attendant seems to appear out of no where on silent feet.
“Mistress, His Highness requests your presence in his garden.” Nodding solemnly, she steps over the glass doors leading to the garden.
Standing, I smooth my palms down my hips, trying to calm my nerves. I can already feel the perspiration prickling between my breasts and in my armpits. I already regret not taking the time to freshen up as I should have. Erroneously, I thought Hassan would bring my son to me immediately.
The much taller woman’s shadow falls before us like an omen as she leads me through the private garden that spills from my rooms. Taking me through a hidden path I would have never found, she leads me through a dense thicket that is clearly known to few. Stopping before a dense wall of what looks like orange honeysuckle and smells similar she waits.
“Honey suckle grows here?” I ask to her back.
“Yes, Mistress. This is Cape Honey Suckle, though many kinds are grown or transplanted. The prince’s grandmother had an affinity for them. This was her favorite palace.”
Mutely I nod, trying to imagine having a favorite palace. Yes, I’m wealthy now, very close to being a billionaire in my own right, but having to sit on the floor sharing saltines with my younger sisters is not something I will ever forget.
The wall of honeysuckle springs open as another attendant steps back as we pass.
“I will await you here.” The woman who saw me this far says.
“I’m sorry I din’t get your name —” I start.
“Amari,” she answers hurriedly, her eyes darting to the attendant waiting. “You must not keep His Highness waiting.” Whispering with gentle admonishment she steps back.
Pushing the door closed, the waiting attendant nods ahead of me. “Follow me please, mistress.”
The silence of the garden is almost comforting if I was sure that the new woman who seems older and sterner wasn’t leading to my death. I know men like him, like FADE, his brother, Ghad and Flower’s husband, Akchiro don’t take slights easy. Never mind the grave insult of me keeping his son from him.
Chewing my bottom lip, I follow the woman onto a path similar to the one that led us here until it opens up into a grand courtyard. There is a huge fountain that is the centerpiece of the garden. It looks what I imagine paradise in heaven would be.
There are humming birds in a bath and small animals I’ve never seen outside a zoo frolicking and bounding over each other in the grass.
Attendants are feeding, massaging, and playing with them. A puppy, no, nothing so boring; Hassan has a baby gazelle and lynx in his back yard.
We approach the huge fountain and I hear Ayaan giggling. Rounding it, I see him standing on strong little legs before his daddy petting a sleek kitten. The kitten swats his arm as he tickles his long pointed ears.
Hassan doesn’t bother to look up, but the moment Ayaan sees me, he’s nearly tripping over himself to get to me.
“Mommy, mommy—” he squeals in happiness as I sweep him up in my arms.
Burrowing my head in his hair, I nearly weep from relief. Knowing my son’s reaction would be one of immediate despair should I cry in front of him, I take the necessary moments I need to get myself together as I inhale his precious baby scent.
“Hey, my big man.” Smiling as I pull back to meet his jade gaze, I search his face with care for any signs of distress. We are rarely away from each other. Which is why when it got to the two-hour mark, I started to worry. I make sure not more than two hours pass between me laying eyes on him.
“We will share a meal with our son,” Hassan announces as a way of greeting me, I suppose.
He nods to the double doors, then motions for me to sit. No sooner than I do as he bids is the food being brought out by attendants.
“Going on Bear Hunt?” I ask Ayaan, to which he nods excitedly. This is what I normally do any time I need to keep him busy while he’s waiting.
I can feel Hassan’s eyes on us, but I do my best to ignore him. Not letting his scrutiny bother me. I know he’s fascinated with his son just by looking on as Ayaan played with the cat someone cleverly took away. Warm towels are placed on the side of the thick blanket.
“Ayaan, come here son.” And without a second look, my baby scrambles from my lap and toddlers over to Hassan. My heart squeezes when he brushes a soft kiss to his curls and washes his hands. More towels a place beside me. I follow, doing the same, taking my time to keep busy and not look at father and son too much. It’s like a dream and nightmare wrapped together in some twisted fever dream.
No sooner than I put the towel down is the food being served.
Fragrant dishes and porridge of honey and dates are placed in front of us.
“I read he has no allergies, is that correct?” Hassan asks in smooth tones.
“Yes, I had him tested since I developed an egg allergy when I got pregnant with him.” Not being able to meet his eyes, I keep my gaze on his powerful hands, securing the bib around Ayaan’s neck.
“Mommy eat, eat.” My happy baby scrambles back, coming to sit with me.
I feed him first. The porridge and dates make him hum and wiggle with joy. My baby loves to eat. I give him morsels of baked chicken and soft, yeasty rolls with a honey butter topping.
“Yummy,” offering me a bite, he gives me a greasy little smile. I can’t help but to return.
Darting a quick glance at his father, I briefly wonder if Ayaan looks like him when he smiles. My chest squeezes when I see the longing his in his face as he looks us.
He catches me looking at him and it’s like a curtain drops over his features. All softness is wiped from his features. His gaze goes glacial as his regard lasers on me alone. There is no softness there. That only belongs to the baby we share.
“Ahem.” Clearing my throat, I push as much cheer into my voice as I can. “Do you want to give your daddy some?”
“Baba.” Comes the cold, cutting correction.
My gaze trips over to his. His mouth thins at the question in my eyes.
“We say, baba, here.” He clarifies with a coldness so diabolical that even Ayaan’s curly little head swivels around to look at him.
Soothing reassuring circles on my baby’s back, I say with soft reassurance, “Baba, it is. Honey, would you like to give your baba some?”
“Baba?” Turning back to me, he asks with uncertainty.
“Yes, baba.” Smiling, I nod to Hassan. “Yes, baba is hungry. Look how grumpy he got just for a second. He’s happy now, but still hungry. Would you like to share with Baba?”
“Baba, share?” he cries giddily. Moving to stand with a morsel of meat tightly held in his little fist, he goes over to Hassan, hope shining in his eyes.
The glimmer of a smile quirking the corners of an otherwise grim face is very much like the one I mused about earlier.
Seeming not minding the mess, Hassan scoops Ayaan up, gobbling up the messy food his son presses into his mouth with enthusiasm.
Eating the delicious array of food set before me I soak in the tableau of son and father bonding over a simple meal. I was scared to admit the dream I dared not have my entire pregnancy and since the birth of my son. Seeing it come true before my very eyes, regardless of circumstance, makes my heart nearly explode with joy.
Eventually they are done and Hassan seems to take more time than absolutely necessary cleaning them both up. Settling a dosing Ayaan in his lap, he pins me with a piercing gaze as I clean my hands with freshly presented towels.
“Now we will speak of about the repercussions of your actions.” Idly stroking our son’s curls, he rises in one fluid motion from the crossed seating position he was in.
Full and despite the hours of choreography, I still find myself struggling a little to rise. He looks down at me like a god from on high as I ungracefully come to stand before him.
Not bothering to wait beyond that small courtesy, he leads me out of the garden through the double doors flanked by two more fierce faced female attendants.
Walking through the expanse of the majestic suite, I follow him as he passes through the living area into a bedroom where a custom bed sits on a dais. Skirting around it, he enters another room off to the side. I follow him, curious as to where he’s taking Ayaan.
The room we enter is a toddler’s paradise. Life, like animals, line the walls. The Serengeti themed room is a delight. The wall mural is of thick grasses with various animals peaking through. National Geographic couldn’t have captured the animals better. Birds seem to soar from the blue skies. Elephants are in the background and lions look to roam off in the distance. The motif is continued through the room. The bed is as if it’s nestled in a tree with the bed enclosed in its leaf like pillows.
Turning in a slow circle, I marvel at the effort that went into the room and with my son’s favorite things in the world. Ayaan has been on a serious animal kick since his first birthday.
Watching Hassan place him in his new bed, I almost feel like I’m intruding on a special moment.
He bends to press a kiss on his head, then steps back to give me space to do the same.
Bending, I inhale his precious scent again and kiss his soft little cheek. My nose stings, and my throat threatens to close from this new reality my little baby gets to experience.
Rising, I see Hassan has already left the room.
I guess he can’t wait to tear into me, I muse as I follow the path back out through to the main living area, pointedly ignoring the bed. I don’t even allow myself to think of him and his fiancee sharing this bed. Ignoring the twist in my chest, I try not to think about what he does in the bedroom with his fiancée and other lovers. I speed up until I come face to face with the avenging angel standing before the seating area with his hands clasped behind his back like a disapproving teacher.
“You will explain yourself.” Severity drips from every word. His face cut from stone and his eyes are chips of ice as his gaze rakes over me with an emotion akin to hatred and barely banked disgust. Something I’m I very familiar with having seeing it so much growing up.
“I found out I was pregnant a few months after that night when I had a check-up before the tour was to start.” I have to swallow past the ache I thought I’d assuaged from the way he treated me that morning. First, making me believe I was something special, that what we experienced that night was magical, only to be told with annoyed disdain that he belonged to another.
I take a breath and continue, “I can’t lie and say didn’t think about ending the pregnancy — I did all of two seconds when the doctor read the results to me. But, I’m grown. I have more than enough money to take care of Ayaan all on my own, so I decided to keep him and raise him alone. I had no intention of bothering you or intruding on your life.” Succinctly I give him the facts without all the sturm und drang of what really occurred like the crying, screaming and throwing up at not being pregnant but having a child I knew in my heart his father would never want. The man proudly said he couldn’t stand me.
“The fuck you mean you were going to keep him and raise him alone?” He grits out, his tone low and furious. A hot flush of anger rides high on his cheeks. “He’s my son.”
“And you are engaged. The marriage is in what, a couple months? I had to send my regrets. It didn’t seem right coming to the wedding of the man I fucked.” I shrug, watching rage fill his features.
“How is the bride to be and where is she, anyways?” Looking around expectantly, schooling my face to one of innocent wonder.
“She’s fine and not here,” he snaps, fury still riding him like a wave at high tide off the coast of my house in Malibu.
“Busy making wedding plans, I bet. I hear it’s going to be the wedding of the century. I hate to miss it,” I say with fake sadness.
“Don’t worry, you won’t.” Crossing his arms, another stoic mask drops over his face as he slowly blinks at me.
“This little visit has been nice, and I didn’t cut up when you had my flight diverted because I know it was shock finding out like this, but I’m going on tour. You’re already making me late for my show in Cairo—” I trail off at the slow shake of his head.
The air is dead between us. Tension draws a tight line as we regard one another. It’s in that moment I’m more than aware I have no power here. He’s a prince and I may as well be a pauper. I’m pretty sure those guards took my passport and my phone before they gave me back my bag.
“You’re not leaving here with my son, Lyric. Should you wish to once he becomes acclimated to his new home, you may. But understand this. In this country, by my faith and by my law my son belongs to me. There will be no shared custody. If you leave my country without my express permission, you will be blocked from ever entering again. You will never see Ayaan again. If you attempt to abscond with my heir, you will be killed on sight.”
Standing before him, I absorb the verbal pummeling he just gave me too shocked to do anything other than absorb the ruthless promise of his words.
Missing everything that transpires afterward until I realize attendant is guiding me out of the room.
“Lyric.” His voice is almost melodic in the haze of my shock.
Turning to face him I’m stunned by the smile most of all. His beautiful blazingly sinister smile.
“I do so hope you try.”