Chapter 41
Shehryar
I woke up the next morning with a splitting headache, having barely slept more than two hours. Not because Mariyah and I had returned late; I just hadn’t been able to fall asleep.
I tossed and turned, threw myself out of bed, and paced my room. I replayed everything that happened, questioned everything that led up to the moment I’d punched Johnny.
Regretted everything I’d said after to Mariyah.
On a hundred separate moments, I’d wanted to cross the corridor between us and apologise, take it all back. But I’d stopped myself every time I’d stared at her closed door in the open threshold of my own. The locked access hadn’t been the issue, a locked Mariyah, though, had.
When Mariyah didn’t want to listen, there was nothing anyone could do to make her hear them. And after she’d sat in the back of the car and ignored me even when I’d threatened to drag her to the front seat, I’d known barging in to apologise would have driven her further from me.
That would’ve solidified the very real possibility of losing her when I’d only just gotten her, and I couldn’t do that. I didn’t want to lose her. She was mine. My little menace. When I’d said she was stuck with me, I’d meant it. She was stuck with me for a very long time if I could convince her of it.
But as night turned to day, that possibility felt minute, and between frustrated thoughts and planning an apology, I’d dipped in and out of a broken sleep until morning.
My eyes felt dry and heavy even after I showered and changed into the only shirt, V-neck jumper, and suit trousers I’d left out. All my other clothes were packed back into my suitcase, ready for mine and Esmeralda’s flight back to Jahandar in the afternoon.
I left my room, hoping I had enough time to convince Mariyah to consider forgiving me before she left for her morning flight to Raven. The idea of her going back when I had yet to fix things didn’t sit right with me, but I had no other choice. We both had lives and work in different states. Though it didn’t matter. Because I’d still do everything to work it out with her.
I released a slow breath, trying to tame my agitation, before lifting my fist to her door and rapping gently. “Mariyah.”
Nothing, of course.
I knocked again. “Mariyah, please. Let me in. Let me…let me apologise.”
Silence. But it was too quiet. Unnervingly so.
I wasn’t sure what made me do it, but I tested the doorhandle.
To my surprise, it was unlocked, and her door eased open.
But that surprise was replaced by dread when I was faced with the empty stillness of her room. Bed made. Curtains pulled back. Suitcases gone.
Fuck, had she left already? But her flight was at eleven-thirty. Why would she have gone so soon?
Maybe someone had just taken her suitcases down to the entrance hall…but where was she?
Quickly abandoning her room, I charged through the corridor towards the stairs. I whipped my phone out and dialled her number. It rang once, twice, three times, and—
“ The person you are calling is currently unavailable —”
I swore under my breath. She fucking rejected my call. Or her phone was off. Knowing her, it was likely the former. I dialled her again.
“Pick up, Mariyah,” I grumbled under my breath, rushing down a flight of stairs.
But again, after a few rings, it went to her answer machine.
“Fuck,” I bit out. I clutched my phone tightly and charged through corridors on the first floor towards the central staircase.
But around the corner, I staggered to a halt when I spotted Esmeralda and Prince Kai walking towards me. The prince was wearing a thick parka coat, while Esmeralda had her jacket draped over her arm.
She stilled upon seeing me, regaining her steps only a moment later. But I didn’t like the dark look cast over her greyish-brown eyes and the firm set of her jaw. Prince Kai didn’t look so comfortable either. He kept directing quick, worried glances at his fiancée.
I bowed my head as they stopped in front of me. The prince acknowledged it with a wincing nod, but Esmeralda glared at me steadfast. “Are you going somewhere or coming back?” I asked.
“Coming back,” she replied.
She went somewhere without my knowing?
I frowned and shifted on my feet. “Princess Esmeralda, I can’t do my job if you leave without telling me or—”
“You don’t have to worry about my whereabouts anymore,” she cut through, angling her chin higher. “As of this morning, you have been dismissed as my head of security and private secretary. Yunis has since taken over both roles, and he was with us, as was Rocco, when we left.”
I blinked. And blinked. Her words not registering. My ears ringing. Until the multiple waves of noise merged into one and my heart dropped to my stomach.
She—she’s firing me? Anger flung it back up. What the fuck?
Esmeralda took Kai’s hand and brushed past me. I swung around and grasped her elbow, stopping her. “You can’t fire me without telling me—”
“Excuse me?” The strength of her voice and rage in her eyes shut me up. Ripping her arm free, she faced me head on, and she might have been small, but she was the epitome of strength and power. “I am the Crown Princess of Jahandar, Shehryar Timur, lest you forget. You cannot tell me what I can and cannot do. If I have dismissed you, it is done. And nothing you can say will change my mind.”
She meant it. She was really firing me.
I pressed my lips together and swallowed down the dryness in my throat. “Why?”
“Why do you think?” she snapped, cracks appearing in her wrath. “I warned you not to make me choose between you two. But you did. So I have.”
Ah. Esmeralda knew what had happened.
I shook my head, the movement small. “It’s not…I know I made a mistake last night—”
“A mistake isn’t grouping her with someone who insulted you, Shehryar. You hurt her. Again.”
A sharp ache slashed through my chest, and I scrubbed a hand over my face and hair. “I know. I know. I shouldn’t have said it. I don’t have an excuse other than I lost my head. The situation was so—I didn’t expect for everyone I cared about to be attacked, and I didn’t—she wasn’t defending him, but that’s what it felt like in the moment, and I didn’t stop to think about what I was saying.”
I eased closer to Esmeralda, dipping my head to look her right in the eyes with pleading desperation. “But I care about her, Esmeralda. I like her. A lot. More than I’ve ever really allowed myself to acknowledge, but I do. And I know I ruined things before they even really started, but I’ll do everything to apologise and make it right with her. Just—just tell me where she is, please .”
Mariyah was going to hate me, she was going to shut me down and out, but I’d beg, borrow, and steal to earn her forgiveness. My little menace wasn’t going to get rid of me that easily. I’d fucked up but I’d fix it. I’d make it up to her in every way. I’d show her that I was in this— us for the long run.
Because it wasn’t love yet, but fuck, it wasn’t far off. For me, at least.
She’d been under my skin for years now, always had me watching her, wanting her from afar.
It had always been her.
It had just taken some time to accept that my feelings weren’t going to change. And now I didn’t want to lose the one chance I’d had to give her a reason to feel the same about me.
“She’s gone,” Prince Kai answered in Esmeralda’s silence.
My stomach slid down like a raindrop on a window. “What do you mean she’s gone?”
He gave me an apologetic frown. “We just dropped her off at the airport.”
No…no, no. Fuck no!
“Why?” I glanced frantically between them. “Her flight wasn’t until half eleven.”
He looked to Esmeralda to reply. “She wanted to see if she could leave on an earlier flight,” she said. “We helped her get it changed. She’ll be getting on the nine-thirty flight now.”
That meant in over an hour she’d be up in the air on her way back to Raven.
I swung away on a bitten-out curse and raked my hands through my hair. Several possibilities presented themselves, but none were viable as they mostly relied on getting to the airport before the plane left. If I drove to the airport now, I wouldn’t make it in time.
My only other option was—
I stepped back around. “When we get back to Jahandar, I’d like to take a few days off.”
Esmeralda shook her head. “I’m not going back to Jahandar today. Only you are. There should be a ticket in your email inbox.” At my disbelief, she added, “I spoke to Kareem, and he said it would be possible for me to stay a week longer since I had no public appearances to make. Yunis and the others will stay with me, and we’ll continue on projects that I can work on from here.” She straightened. “And as for your leave, you no longer have to ask me. I don’t employ you anymore.”
“Esmeralda, don’t fire me,” I pleaded. “I know I messed up but—”
“It’s not just about what you did to Mariyah, Shehryar,” she said. “I can no longer work with you if you are going to hold on to this idea that all rich people are bad. Because I am one of those people. So is Kai. So is Prince Arsh, and now Mama Katiya too. How am I supposed to trust you with my life and safety and work if you won’t let go of your wariness of the circles that I grew up in, that I am a part of?”
She shook her head. “You seem to forget that you grew up in them too. Maybe not in the same way I did, but you were raised in a palace, Shehryar, with far more privileges than many people. And I know what happened with your father was awful and that you have seen a lot of the bad side of wealth, but you can’t keep attributing those same bad traits to everyone with money. How do I know you’re not going to turn around and do the same to me one day?”
“I would never,” I said quickly.
“But you did to Mariyah.”
I shook my head, wanting to argue but I couldn’t.
Because I had. Not just to Mariyah but to many people. To Prince Arsh most of all.
I’d taken my experience with my father and his family and used it to create a bad picture of those with money. I created a stereotype and held on to that prejudice. It was wrong, especially when I acknowledged that I had in fact grown up amongst the better side of wealth. I’d been the bastard son of a new maid, but I’d been given the same toys, clothes, food, and education as an heir to the throne and his younger sister. And neither of them had ever judged me for anything.
But the fear of being judged by them had always been there. Not them in particular, but those with wealth. Those who still held on to old views of legitimacy, marriage, and children. Those who would have taken one look at my mother and called her a gold digger or me a bastard child. Those who wouldn’t have wanted to associate themselves with me once they found out who I was.
So, I judged them before they could judge me.
Now I’d lost my job, Esmeralda, and Mariyah too because of it.
Esmeralda cupped my face in her hands, forcing me to look at her. “I know how you feel. Like everyone can see it written on your face and they’re judging you for it. But they’re not, and even if they are, that’s on them. But if you judge yourself and them as a result, you’re no better than they are, Shehryar. And you have got to stop doing that. For yourself, if not for anyone else.”
She tiptoed and pressed a chaste kiss to my cheek. “I love you, Sher, but unfortunately, until something changes, this is the way it will be. So, fix this. Please.”
I gave her a firm nod. “I will.”
Mariyah
Dad dragged in my suitcase behind me into our family home while Mum shucked her bright red coat and hung it on the banister. I kept my pale-green puffer jacket on and headed into the living room on the right. It was styled in greys and creams like most of the house, with pops of colour in the form of vases and cushions and whatnot that Mum had bought from random places.
I plonked myself on the fabric sofa opposite the TV tucked before the bay windows. Mum came and stood in front of me with a worried pout on her red-painted lips. Her straight, blonde, long bob swished around her neck as she eyed me with the blue eyes I’d inherited from her.
Dad came in a second later and stood next to Mum, and they couldn’t have been more different. Their only things in common were that they were both fifty-eight, around six-foot tall, and of a blond and blue-eyed combo of varying shades. Otherwise, Mum’s love for eccentric fashion and colours was the complete opposite to Dad’s strait-laced, finance man look—thin-rimmed glasses and a wardrobe that only consisted of V-neck sweaters, collared shirts, and chinos.
They shared a look of some unspoken parental understanding.
“Do you want to tell us what’s wrong now?” Dad then asked.
An unexpected wave of emotion burned the back of my eyes and jammed up my throat, which in turn sparked my temper. “Nothing,” I said, closing my eyes. “I’m just tired.”
“Mariyah, sweetie,” Mum said, and the sofa dipped on either side of me. “We’re your parents. We can see when something isn’t quite right. You barely said a word in the car ride home. And frankly, we’ve noticed before that there are days when you don’t seem yourself.”
I bit down on my lip as it started trembling and curled forward with an annoyed growl.
For fuck’s sake! I didn’t want to cry. But all the feelings I’d been suppressing, the fear, the frustration, the tiredness, the hope that came crashing down, the bit of hurt bubbled over the rim at once in the form of hot, angry tears that refused to be stopped. I blamed the fact that my period was due too, which was making me ten times more emotionally vulnerable.
“Is this…” Dad cleared his throat. “Is this a ‘condom didn’t work’ situation? Because we’ll support you if you choose to keep it, whether the father is in the picture or not.”
My head soared up. “What? No, I’m not pregnant!”
“Then what is it, Mar?” Mum said.
“I just—I don’t—I feel so…” I made a frustrated, watery sound and roughly swiped at my tears. “I hate my job. So much it makes me sick.” My face scrunched in fury. “And Shehryar’s a fucking idiot.”
“Shehryar?” Dad echoed, his tone a mixture of confusion and protectiveness. “What did he do?”
“Wait, wait.” Mum put her hand up. “One thing at a time, and you mentioned your job first.” Her brows drew down. “You hate your job? Something specific about your job or…”
“All of it. I just hate it. My manager, my team, my role, everything about it. I spend so much time just editing reports that I don’t feel like I’m achieving anything, and I’m fed up. The thought of going in every day makes me anxious to the point I feel nauseous, and I dread it so much.”
“Anxious?” Mum shook her head slowly, hurt etching itself over her face. “Sweetie, why didn’t you say anything if it was that bad?”
“Because I felt so stupid,” I blubbered. “The thought of complaining felt childish when so many people don’t like their jobs, but they do it because they have to.” I patted myself on the chest. “I chose this career enthusiastically, and you supported me getting there, and now I don’t want to do it, and that sounds so bloody ungrateful, but I’m not. I’m not, I just…”
“Changing your mind about a job doesn’t make you ungrateful or stupid or childish,” Dad said, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear with his thumb. “In fact, it makes you quite sensible and brave to realise this job isn’t for you and knowing you want to step away from it.”
“And we would never think you ungrateful, sweetie,” my mum added. “We only supported your passion where we could, but you put in all the hard work yourself. And if your goals and passions have changed, we’ll support that too, especially if the previous goal was ruining your health.”
The fucking idiot had been right, which made the situation worse, because he’d ruined everything.
“You should have trusted us enough to tell us, Mariyah,” Dad whispered, swiping a tissue from the box on the glass coffee table in front of us. “Have we ever given you a reason not to?”
“No, but—thank you.” I took the offered tissue and wiped under my eyes. “I don’t want to be the family failure who doesn’t know what she’s doing with her life. I don’t want to disappoint you or be a disappointment.”
“Oh, you’d never be that. Ever.” Mum snaked an arm around my shoulder and gave me a tight squeeze that eased the tension from my body. “We may have been a little concerned if you had no drive at all, but you are a powerhouse to be reckoned with when you put your mind to something. And if you need time to decide what that is, take it. There’s no mortgage to pay on the flat, thankfully, and you have your savings too. You could move back in, and we could rent the flat out short-term, or we can fund your break.” She smiled reassuringly. “We are your parents after all. Our very job is to look after you until you can stand on your own two feet with confidence.”
“No,” I moaned, but the tears had stopped. “I don’t want to rely on you like that.”
Dad frowned. “Why not?”
“Because that’s what family failures do. And I don’t want to be the girl in a family of high achievers who lives off her parents’ money.”
“You wouldn’t be,” Mum said with a lovingly amused shake of her head. “But what do you want to do then?”
“I…” I paused and looked to my dad. “I won’t be applying to the job Patch mentioned in the Central Bank.” I shook my head. “I don’t think a career as an economist is for me anymore. I need a change. Maybe a short break too, but not for more than a month. I want…I like working with people.”
Dad smiled. “Well, that is where you thrive. Amongst a crowd.”
“And I think the experience of coordinating a secret wedding has probably given you some helpful insight.” Mum beamed with pride. “I know I said it on the phone to you and Princess Esmeralda already, but it looked wonderful on the video call. And they made a beautiful couple.”
“And if we’re being honest, this might work in our favour too,” Dad added. “We’ve been looking to hire someone to coordinate more networking events with our clients.”
They both looked at me with wide, hopeful gazes. I reared back. “You want me to do it?”
“Doesn’t have to be permanent, but it would be good experience for you,” my mum said. “And we were kind of hoping you might take some interest in the business. Especially, if we considered opening an international branch sometime within the next two or three years.”
I gaped. Because fuck me, that had come out of nowhere. They had never once mentioned wanting me hands-on-deck with their venture capital and consultancy business.
“You’re serious?” I questioned.
“Yes.” Dad nodded. “But you weren’t interested, and we wanted you to follow your passion. But if that has changed, maybe this is an opportunity to consider.”
The idea was intriguing, but…
I scrunched my face. “The nepotism would cause problems.”
“It’s not nepotism if you’re qualified. And we wouldn’t be giving you a senior role, Mar, so you’d work your way up like everyone else.”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I considered it, rolling the damp tissue between my fingers. “Have you actually had this role planned or…”
“It’s been planned for a while, just something we haven’t yet recruited for,” Mum explained.
It was several quiet moments before I nodded slowly, hesitantly warming to the idea. “Okay.” I nodded with more confidence. “It’s something to consider. And the experience would help.”
“There’s our confident girl,” Mum cooed and squeezed me in a side hug. “You send HR your resignation with the same confidence, okay?”
I huffed out a tired laugh and smiled between them. “Thank you. For everything.” A liquid sheen drifted over my eyes again. “And you were right. I should have told you sooner. I’m sorry I didn’t.”
“Don’t be silly, Mariyah.” Dad laid a heavy kiss to the side of my head. “Just remember that you can trust us with anything, so don’t feel the need to hide something like that again.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
I welcomed another round of tight hugs and loving kisses before Mum straightened with a haughty sniff. “Now…what was this about Shehryar being an idiot?”