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Chapter Four
Kacie
“My dear Kay is from a prestigious family, no need for the interrogation, Father.” Zayn's voice had never sounded better than that moment.
I briefly closed my eyes, and opened them again, with a bright smile. I could feel his father's hard stare at me, as I took a bite of the delicious raisins. These people were heavy on eating fruit.
For a moment, I thought his father would press on with the interrogation. After all, he was the father, and wielded more power than Zayn.
But then, he heaved a sigh and continued eating.
We'd barely finished eating when Humairah dragged me away to her room.
“To have some girly discussion,” She said with a giggle, as she pulled me away.
I threw a helpless look at Zayn as we went out of the hall. But I retracted my gaze when I saw the hard look on his face. I didn't need a translator to understand what he meant.
‘Don't do anything stupid.’
Obviously, Zayn's parents had a private sector of the mansion, where they usually stayed, whenever they visited. If I hadn't noticed before, as she pulled me along like an excited school girl, I finally did. Zayn's mansion was vast, with many rooms. And boy, were they beautiful.
We soon got to a brown-colored door, manned by two guards, after passing by many doors. I was already getting tired. Damn.
The guards bowed, and pushed the door open.
Soft lights, and a nice scent greeted us, as we walked into the room. I've read many books about the Arabs, and how generous they were with their wealth.
Stepping into the room felt like I'd been transported into one of the many movies I'd watched. It was styled and decorated simply, yet elegantly. The golden walls shimmered, as the lights shone on them.
Humairah pulled me over to the bed, whose curtains had been pulled up.
“Tell me,” She said with a chuckle. “How did you and Zayn meet?” She had an expectant look on her face.
I was still standing. A knot formed in my throat, which, no matter how hard I swallowed, wouldn't just go down.
The silence stretched on for a little while. Thankfully, she read my silence as uncomfortableness.
“You don't have to be shy, dear.” She rose to her feet, and pulled me down towards the bed.
My erratic heartbeat continued even after her assurance. How in the whole wide world, was I supposed to tell my supposed mother-in-law that I and her son had never met before?
I swallowed again, and put on a little smile. I wish Zayn had told me what to say.
I cleared my throat awkwardly, as she settled her hand on my lap. “Go on.” She urged.
I took a deep breath. It was now, or never.
“We met at a bar,” The lie came out easily. Maybe from years of practice of lying to myself.
As expected, she drew closer, her eyes shimmering with curiosity. “At a bar?” She echoed my words.
I nodded gently, with a soft laugh. “It was my birthday, and I hadn't wanted to celebrate it with anyone. I'd wanted to be alone, but I hadn't wanted anywhere quiet. The bar was a natural option. I was nursing a glass of wine, when he walked in with Amad. My heart had stirred, and I instantly knew he was the one for me.” I finished off, with a smile.
The story was cringe, I was afraid she'd catch on the lie. But she didn't. Instead, her smile broadened as she clapped her hands excitedly.
My story was partly lies, and a little bit of truth. Indeed, when I'd seen Zayn for the first time in his room that night, my heart had stirred.
“What'd happened after that?” She asked.
My stomach churned, as my mind concocted more lies. Fortunately, the door opened just then.
Zayn walked in, with his characteristic calm demeanor, and his signature emotionless face.
“The horse race is starting soon. I figured you'd want to watch, Mother.” He was speaking to his mother, but staring at me.
But I knew I'd be foolish if I actually thought he gave a hoot about me. He was probably worried about how it'd gone with his mother.
I gave him a small assuring smile, and he withdrew his gaze.
“Perfect. Let's go, dear. We can have a couple of drinks while seeing the perfect bodies of our men.” She said, and I nearly choked on my saliva.
Zayn was already walking out of the room. I adjusted my clothes, and almost jumped when his mother clung to my arm.
I hadn't been close to anyone aside from Josh, since I was a little child.
If anything, I had grown up in a pretty abusive household. My mother had been a chronic drunkard. And my father? He slept with virtually anything under a skirt.
My mother had me when she was nineteen. And it'd been ten years later, before my father had shown up at her parents' home, to claim us.
It turned out, my mother had slept with him at a bar, when she'd been drunk.
Looking back now, I feel that was what influenced my decision to leave home. I mean, who else would've wanted to stay?
Zayn led the way out into the open, while Humairah explained what the horse race meant.
“Whenever I and Zayn's father visit, they usually have a horse race. It's become a sort of ritual. And I on the other hand, had always looked forward to playing chess with my daughter-in-law.” She sighed, and I sensed the longing in her tone.
I wanted to speak, but the words didn't come in handy. And when they finally came out, it was in a whisper.
“You play chess?” I asked quietly, just as we rounded the corner that led outside.
“It's been my favorite sport and pastime, since I was a little girl. Aside horseracing.” She added the last part with a chuckle, and turned to me with a questioning look. “Do you play?”
I nodded. “It's my favorite too.”
I wasn't lying this time. Although I loved playing chess, I didn't have any friends in school, and there was no one to play with at home. And that was how I and Josh had gotten close.
He'd moved into the house close to our home when I was twelve. I'd been out playing in the open, when he'd rolled out on his bicycle.
I could still remember his soft smile, and how I'd been guarded around him.
“Hey girl, why are you playing alone, when you can have a partner?” He hadn't even waited for my invitation, as he plopped down opposite me to play.
We'd become best buddies, and had moved in together when I finally left home.
If anything happened to him, because of me…
Tears stung the back of my eyes, as I curled my hands into a ball. That was why I couldn't afford to anger Zayn.
He could end me with just a single command. And that included those close to me.
Sunlight poured down in all its intensity, as we came out into the open.
“Aha, let's go over to that stand. We can admire them as much as we want.” She led me over to the stand, which had chairs erected under it.
I didn't understand what she was talking about, till I spotted Zayn coming out of the stable with a large brown horse.
He was bare, down to the waist. I almost drooled if I hadn't caught myself. There should have been more than six packs. Was it eight, I spotted?
“My husband is better anyway.” I heard his mother chuckle beside me. I'd almost forgotten she was there.
Her sense of humor lessened my awkwardness around her. I laughed, and shook my head.
“My man is better,” The words flowed out naturally, and it was only at the end did I almost bite my tongue.
My man?
“Of course you'd support him.” She chuckled, beckoning to one of the servants walking around. He came over with a tray of juice. She picked up a glass, and offered me the other.
“Why aren't they dressed in racing costumes?” I asked, as both men got ready to mount their horses.
“They prefer to race without it.” She shrugged.
Humairah hadn't been lying when she'd said we'd admire them. f**k, why'd they have to be so devilishly hot?
Their tanned skins shone in the sunlight. Probably feeling my stare at him, Zayn's gaze met mine.
The juice was halfway to my mouth, but I suddenly felt my mouth dry up.
His gaze lingered on me, and I felt my core throb. His muscles flexed as he held the reins, and I swallowed the non-existent saliva.
I dipped my gaze, and turned towards Humairah who was drooling over her husband's body. Thankfully, she hadn't seen what'd happened.
- Writer
