Chapter 30 - Nora
I start to leave the deep sleep I have been in. I keep my body still, listening to the sounds around me before opening my eyes. I have no idea where I am, or how I have gotten here, but I am going to memorize every detail from now on.
Even with a pounding headache, my brain has always had borderline photographic memory. It wasn’t so much that I could commit facts to memory, but that I could absorb the space around me. My Dad used to tell me that I had heightened spatial awareness, and I could recall everywhere I had been in detail.
My body is sluggish, my limbs feel weighed down, but now I force my eyes open. The air is stale, thick with the scent of sweat, damp concrete, and something metallic. Blood.
The room is dimly lit, a single flickering bulb swaying overhead. My wrists ache—I look down and see a zip tie cutting into my skin. My ankles are bound too. A bare mattress is beneath me, pushed against a cracked wall. Definitely no longer in the resort paradise, that’s for sure. But where have I been taken?
The memories crash over me in waves. The spa. The cold press of a gun against my ribs. The quiet but firm warning— scream and people die. I slipped my bangle off my wrist, praying Sayid would find it, and know I didn’t leave on my own. A man in a mask escorts me from the building . Then the sharp sting of a needle into the back of my neck.
Last thing I remember is the sound of the fire alarm fading, and we walked away from the building and down towards the water. Then my world blurred into blackness, and I stayed in the dark til I woke up just now.
I inhale deeply, forcing down the panic clawing at my throat. This is bad. Very bad. But I’ve lived through worse. I knew one thing, I am going to survive this too. I swallow once, twice, then lift my head. Assess. Adapt. Survive.
I am immediately aware that I am not alone. All around me, other women lie bound on similar mattresses, their eyes wide with terror. Some are crying softly. Others stare at nothing, already slipping into silent despair. Not me. Not this time.
The door across the room is metal, bolted. No windows. Faint voices filter through the walls, speaking in a language I don’t understand. Not a language from any of the countries that we have previously traveled to. My hands curl into fists.
I turn towards the girls closest to me, only a thin chain link fence separates us. I lower my voice to a whisper. “Do any of you speak English?” A girl on the left, blonde and trembling, gives a slight nod.
“Do you know where we are?” I ask. She shakes her head, her breath uneven. My stomach knots. “Have they touched you?” I had to ask, I’ve got to know what they are wanting from us.
Every woman shakes her head. No. Relief and dread war within me. If they’re keeping us untouched, that means they’re preparing us for something. And I have seen enough movies, and read enough books to know how this is going to end. A bidding war. Selling our bodies, for whatever purposes, to the highest bidder.
Not me. And not them, not if I can help it. The door scrapes open. Two men step inside. One is thin, with dark greasy hair and a cigarette dangling from his lips. The other is broader with bands of muscles, a clean shaven bald head, and his beady eyes filled with amusement as they land on me. A smile tugging at his lips.
The images of the other women’s faces flash in my mind. These men are expecting fear. And I am not going to give them that satisfaction. They are going to get the old me. Sayid has healed more than I have realized, and I am ready to unleash the fire I have been smothering.
I sit up straighter, tilting my chin. Cold fury burns through my veins . My own lips curl into something that isn’t quite a smile. “You should go get your boss. Because you all just made the worst fucking mistake of your lives.”
Cigarette guy raises a brow, exchanging a glance with Baldy. “That so?”
I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “You have no idea who I am, do you? Who I belong to? You think I’m just another woman to sell?” I lean forward despite the restraints, my voice turning venomous.
“I am Nora Hassan. I am the wife of Amir Sayid Hassan.” I lean back, my expression dark and certain. “ Your boss? He can’t afford me, and not one of his clients will be able to either. There isn’t enough money in the world to outmatch what my husband—a future king—has to offer.”
“And if any of your interested clients catches wind of the name Sayid Hassan, I guarantee you, they will pull out of this bid without looking back. Because they know—he will absolutely destroy anything that comes between us.”
Baldy’s smirk falters. I see it—the flicker of uncertainty. Good.
Cigarette Guy exhales slowly, studying me. He doesn’t dismiss me outright, and that confirms everything I need to know. They don’t have a clue who Sayid is. But they will.
I glance at the women around me, their silent, desperate hope clinging to my every word. They need someone to fight for them. I am not afraid of these men. I am Nora Hassan. And I am going to show them exactly who they just fucked with.
I lean back, my expression dark and certain. “Fine, don’t believe me. But, I’d say a prayer now that you are nowhere near me when he gets to me.” Because the man I married is ruthless. Unstoppable. And when he finds them—and he will—there will be no mercy for anyone involved.