บททั้งหมดของ Scorched: บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

Sheikh Khalid bin Aaban was a man of relatively calm nature, and being a Sheikh wasn't a position for the weak. He wasn't weak, he knew that. He was like the calm just before the storm. He was patient and he was understanding, but only when he needed to be and at the same time he was strict and he was brutal but still he believed in tampering justice with mercy until mercy was exhausted. And his mercies didn't usually last long, he never let them to. He relished the fear in people's eyes for him when he was around or when his name was mentioned, it made him feel powerful and powerful was all he wanted to feel.This time, his mercy towards the simple American was wearing thin but still he was calm, having not done anything drastic towards her. At some point he began to wonder if he was softening up. He felt he was giving her and most especially his son too much freedom that they did as they pleased and he knew he had to do something about it. He would do something about it.

Samir Watr-il-Dharah stood on the balcony of the second floor, leaning over the railing and gazing out over the perfectly mowed garden with both hands shoved deep into his pockets. He listened though a pair of bluetooth earpiece to the person on the other end of the line and he smiled a little."I wouldn't want to stress you so much Mr. Hung." He began to pace. "You only entered the country yesterday."As much as Samir wanted to get this project finalized and kicked off soonest, he really didn't want to put others in a position where they felt pressured. Pressure was not exactly good for business, pressure made it easy to make mistakes and he didn't want any mistakes with this project."If you are fully rested then it is no problem, where is your hotel? I will come meet you at the restaurant there so it will be easier for you and we can talk."If he could wrap this up within the week, it would get the burden off him for a while. The funding Mr. Hung would be

Over the sleeping city of Riyadh, the cold dark night settled in, stretching dark grey clouds across the bare sky. Save for the moon which illuminated the empty streets like a bright white bulb hanging freely, there was nothing else in the sky as it was bare of stars. The moon shone like an awakening call to the whisperers and men of the night, bringing within its dark clutches the greed of power and recognition and the ultimate secrecy of royalty; the lost Prince and son of King Faad, the outcast brother to His Highness King Jaan of Saudi Arabia and the man for whom these gatherings has been of top priority for the past years. The hidden man Aazim. Prince Aazim.His place was at the head of the table and seated around were his faithful followers, his powerful men of loyalty who wouldn't hesitate to kill for his cause, and that was what they were to do - kill and eliminate every obstacle in the way of Prince Aazim ascending to the throne as the King of Saudi Arabia

It was late in the evening when Megan finished packing, she didn't carry much when she was coming here so there wasn't much to pack but she had taken her time, thinking and crying and packing. She thought to forget Omar but even she knew that it would be even more difficult if not impossible, she loved the man too much. He was to get married to someone else, someone of a higher social status and of power, someone of influence and she was just a regular, simple American who just fell in love. She had cried so much that her eyes were now puffy. She sat, and waited, gazing outside the window, she let her mind wander, praying that Samir got here before Omar, she didn't want him to see her leaving. When Samir had gotten the message from the Sheikh, he hadn't hesitated but he was curious and he knew something was not right, the Sheikh wouldn't tell him but maybe Megan might if he coaxed her successfully. He arrived at the house an hour later, the Sheikh was seated in the livin

Megan sank into the bathtub, allowing her body welcome the warm and soothing water. She had missed this; the peace of mind that comes with the loneliness of her apartment, the freedom to do as she pleased without being restricted, the lavender smell of her bathroom and quacky, the small rubber duck sitting on the edge of the bathtub. She reached out and rubbed the slippery head before squeezing the belly, it made a short quack noise and Megan half laughed. She squeezed it two more times before dropping it in the water close to her chest. Leaning back and relaxing, she let her hands drop on either side of the bath tub. Her left hand reached out for the bottle of wine which laid just below the tub and she lifted it up. Deciding not to bother refilling the now empty glass, she brought the bottle to her lips and tipped her head backward, gulping the red liquid down in a rush. She choked and coughed, placed the bottle down and chuckled sadly."Omar, I'm really sorry." H