CHAPTER TWO

His escorting entourage did their jobs till the parking lot where he entered the limousine he had come with. He got into the black automobile completely furious, and full of steam. It was all because of that stupid annoying message that had been sent to him. He had no idea what sort of woman would dare to trifle with him despite his status and the rugged reputation that came with it. That maid, had she lost it, completely? How dare she?! Who on earth had put her up to this? His anger burned as he wondered.

The thought of those mocking words that made up the message swallowed him whole, and he kept losing it, slamming his fist repeatedly into the empty sturdy seat beside him. It was rather a good thing that he was alone with his fury lest he would have scared any chicken audience shitless who's actions. But, it was understandable to his subordinate present in the vehicle with his -Taimur- that he could not help his anger. Well, he had a right to it, a fucking entitlement! He just wasn't someone that people dared to prank or play mischief with, wasn't someone to be toyed with, and most definitely not just someone to be mocked ever so brazenly like that.

This lady, whoever she was and wherever she was, she was seriously done for. He was especially going to greatly deal with her for this, what she had done, make her pay, teach her a lesson. And then, she would never try this again, that is if she survived first, to a man of his calibre. The idea of treating her fuck up got him in a better mood and he leaned back in his seat with a rather devilish grin on his face. Everyone knew damn well who he was, there was no excuse for her actions, and he'll damn well make sure that she paid, in full. Just who was he, this lethal stranger?

He was Sheikh Al-ayad Rafael Al-Ilāh ibn Al-Jaber Al-Shanoor of the Sheikhdom of Sader, located in the United Arab Emirates, The well known UAE. It was a desert Sheikhdom, rich in natural resources, a hub for business. It was a good place to mine wealth and he ruled it all, him, the Sheikh, deadly, lethal, commandeering and powerful. He was an Arab Prince who marked everything with his touch, his indolent arrogance, something that came with unleashing bundles of authority, living among people that he mostly all ignored. They were people who demanded and pestered him like they each owned a part of him. It was something that he didn't quite like because they were people unworthy of his trust and care, acting just as if they actually cared an iota about him when they obviously didn't, setting him up at every opportunity, mocking him and worse of all causing him immense pain each and every time. And, he hated it, hated pain and also hated those who caused the emotion.

The lazy halt of the moving machine brought him out of his thoughts and his near state of nostalgia, making him realize that they had arrived at their destination, the police station. He got down from the Limousine anticipating his meeting with the one he was going to torment. He found Taimur waiting for him when he did so with his suit jacket in one of his arms. He wanted to help him to put on the cloth. He instantly rejected the clothing, not exactly feeling like it and instead glanced down at the folder piece of paper in his palm. He opened it once again to read it despite the fact that he knew exactly what was written on it. The sight of the memorized words written neatly on the plain white sheet of paper reconjured his anger and sent it spiralling almost out of control, at the brink. He stormed into the police station with his five man entourage just behind him.

'Where is she?' he demanded at the counter. 'Where is the damned girl?!' he asked again. The way the officer directed him without question informed him that they were all aware of the woman who had asked for him. He must be the hot topic in these four walls, obviously.

'Come right this way Sir,' another officer took over from the first, leading the way. He led him through police corridors to a place that was apparently not a holding cell. It was the police clinic he later realized. The man opened one of the doors and there she was, sitting upright in bed. Her head was hung low as if she was crying, but on a closer look he discovered that she wasn't. She was reading, staring at the book in her hands, quite engrossed in whatever it seemed to be that she was actually reading, completely oblivious to the presence of another.

He wasn't quite prepared for the gentle feeling that washed over him, a feeling he refused to name. The feeling was rather a fusion of emotions, one of which was despair, gentle yet vivid as it tormented him. He knew not why, but he felt it all so clearly. He was not actually surprised by the unexpected plague because it had once overcame him long ago. It had been the time that he had first met her, in his home when she had still been working as a maid. He remembered all too well the gentle fickle of desire he had first felt when she had raised her head and looked into his eyes with her large bright soulful one that had utterly made him feel guilty of things that he could never pinpoint unless she herself told it to him. He could clearly recall how the desire had built slowly, turning steep, dangerous. But, he could not recall how he had escaped from that gaze, no matter how hard he tried to do so. And, it tormented him, ever since That day, as if he had made a stupid precipitous decision.

Wait! What was he thinking?! This wasn't why he was here, to mull over his brief instantaneous past with a total stranger! He was here to make sure that she be put in her place. He was here to make her pay for pulling his legs with such a mockery for a joke. He was here to make her never toy with men of his calibre. Yes, that was the reason why he was here.

Then, why? Why did the sight of her distract him so much? Why did the sight of her conjure emotions that if he had a choice he would not want to feel? Why did the sight of her make him feel like a mother who had abandoned a child she dearly loved long ago only to be reunited with her after missing her for so long? Oh why?! These sick thoughts infuriated him. It annoyed him to the point of no return. He should not be feeling those. He should never ever feel that! He must not fall for such bewitchment. He must fight it. And fight it he would he decided instantly.