---Nadir's POV---

It was nice to be able to wind down for a moment, to relax and not think about my past, nor the pressing future that awaited.

Mercer would be more than aware of my survival. The man was cunning and smart enough to piece the puzzle together and realize I was behind the killing of his allies, behind the sudden pause of his merchandize.

He was a man that worked through intimidation and brute force, blackmailing those he couldn't intimidate, spoke to their deepest fears or their darkest desires.

The scar on my ribs proved that he wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty either. A chill reminder of his twisted and often volatile temper that would remain with me for a lifetime.

But Mercer wasn't like Javier or Saemus. While he had a volatile temper, the man was extremely smart and cunning. Any attempt of approaching him would be ruined, as the man wasn't as foolish as the former sheiks.

To anyone who hasn't seen his bad side, Sheik Mercer was elegant, suave. A kindhearted leader who many looked up to. Because he knew that harassing his people would only bring repercussions, potential uprisings.

No, Mercer was a viper hiding in plain sight. Treating those within his city with warmth and kindness in order to use them as a human shield against accusatory fingers pointed his way.

"You can't catch flies if you lure them in with acid instead of honey." Mercer had once confided when I had the nerve to ask about it.

He had just finished a meeting with a wealthy merchant and despite the fact that Mercer despised the man, he had been utmost polite, nearly groveling at some points.

Yet the second the door closed behind the merchant, Mercer's polite smile had made way for a disgusted sneer, washing his hands as if just shaking upon the deal had dirtied his skin.

"Interacting with the commoners is necessary. Let these sheep think that I'm one of them." He snorted, shaking his head while he dried his hands on a soft towel before dropping it on the floor.

As I rushed to clean it up, he scoffed, stepping a foot on it so I was forced to stay kneeled at his feet. "While it's hard for your tiny brain, think about it for a moment." He sneered, lifting his foot so I could remove the fabric.

"If I were to sneer and mistreat the locals, they will all rally against me. By treating them well, offering praises and cheap gifts, those idiots will never believe a single word that comes from a slave's lips, or rumors about anything I do outside of my domain."

I understood perfectly, had seen the opposite happen many times before. With the cases of my former owners like Seamus, Javier, Aakif, all of them had ruled with fear.

Fear of the locals to become the target of their ruling sheik. While it was an effective leash, fear also made people more inclined to betray the sheik if help was offered.

But by winning over the hearts of the people, by making them believe into the illusion of who they wanted Mercer to be, he had bought their loyalty. Why would they betray someone that treated them well, that showered them in praises, gifts and encouragement?

So what if Mercer mistreated his slaves... they must've deserved their treatment if such a kind and just man lashed out to them.

Any slave that fell in the hands of Mercer, anyone who had even the slightest thought of starting an uprising, would sooner found themselves returned by the people surrounding Mercer's mansion than to find any kind and helping hand.

Even if we tried to slip out of sight, to run away from Mercer's reach, we would just get brought back and punished severely.

One of Mercer's oldest slaves was practically useless, but he kept the young woman to set an example to any new slave that thought they could win back their freedom.

She had tried to seduce another, distant sheik in the hopes of pitting him against Mercer. Telling him about Mercer's outrageous treatment of the slaves, his raids on other villages, the murders and rapes all done on his command.

But she was caught off guard when the Sheik had showed up...and believed Mercer. Even with all the irrefutable evidence provided, she was made out to be a good for nothing, lying slave and was severely punished.

Mercer had her tongue removed so she couldn't spread anymore filthy lies and when it was revealed that the girl had sent meager savings to her family, he had unsheathed his blade and chopped off her dominant hand.

A punishment for theft. For sending his money without his explicit permission. But that wasn't where his cruelty ended, oh no.

Mercer was meticulous, vindictive. He allowed the girl to heal, but his best healers to make her better, to treat the wound of her cauterized tongue and hand.

But he knew that there was more torment in the world, more pain to be experienced than physical agony. A few weeks after she had healed, he started to treat her with general kindness once more, acting as if nothing had happened.

Until one day, where she was called to his room and was surprised to find her younger siblings there. Five year old twins...who were in the process of being sold to Aakif.

The man had smirked coldly and commanded her to sit down, listen and observe before he offered Aakif the comforts of his room for a trial run, so to speak.

Chained to the floor, she was forced to watch and listen until Aakif took them back to his palace, never to be seen again. Her mind had fragmented that day and she was an ever present reminder that nobody in their sane state of mind should ever cross Mercer.

Then again, I never claimed to possess a sane mind, especially after everything that happened to me.

A sane person would've done everything within their power to placate and please Mercer. To stay within his good graces and not set a single toe out of line, out of pure fear and a sense of self-preservation.

Yet, I had never done so. Sure, I had obeyed Mercer's commands as far as I could, but I had never bowed my head respectfully, never agreed with every single word that slipped from his lips.

And it had irked him. That grating annoyance that not just somebody, but a slave in his possession, was subtly defying him.

No matter how Mercer had twisted and turned, had abused me or ordered others to do so, he never managed to break my spirit.

That mere knowledge had sent him flying off kilter to the point where he had dragged me into the desert and attempted to kill me.

If the Bedouin family had not traveled by when they did, he would've succeeded.

Yet, now it was my turn to return the kindness that Mercer had bestowed upon me, along with many others under his rule.

To be able to take him down, a man on top of his game with countless of information webs spread out through the land, someone who was equally as paranoid about his friends as his enemies....

Would be next to impossible. Undoubtedly Mercer had militia of guards upon guards that had my name and description, along with the description of anyone that has been in contact with me.

I said as much to Carson when he offered to aid in Mercer's murder. When he had suggested to offer his crew to work for Mercer, guising it as a command of the last master I killed.

"What do you mean, we're going to die as soon as the doors close?" Carson grumbled, even Mord'U seemed curious, leaning forwards in his seat.

Sighing, I tapped a knuckle on the table, trying to immerse myself in Mercer's way of thinking. "Let's say I was Mercer. A Sheik would always keep in contact with his fellow Sheiks, friends or not."

Crossing my legs, I continued "I'd send spies to each city, reporting to me on a weekly basis. The second anything interesting is revealed, I can act upon it or defend myself if need be."

Eyes flitting towards them, I could see the understanding spark in their gaze as I revealed "Each city where the Sheik died, either your party has been hired to defend them, or you have been spotted within the vicinity of the palace."

Mord'U groaned, a low sound from the back of his throat as he scratched at the starting scruff on his chin. "We're thinking that we pulled the wool over his eyes, marching into his house unprepared."

"While in actuality, you're presenting your heads on a silver platter." I finished, resting my head against the seat before closing my eyes. "The second you enter his house, he will have his guards descend upon you. And Mercer doesn't play fair."

Mord'U raised a brow, so I revealed with a slight hand motion "Why do you think Mercer was friends with all but one of my former masters? Because he deemed them useful. The bastard always had a knack of using just the right amount of sedatives so you couldn't fight back, but still experience everything that happens to you."

He clicked his tongue in disgust, an emotion shared by Carson and I. I've seen Mercer use this tactic several times with enemies who disappeared from the face of the earth.

"So how are we going to get to this bastard if he's hiding behind the skirts of the entire population?" Carson huffed, making me tilt my head with a slow smile blooming on my lips.

Laying my arms over the back of the couch, I grinned even further. "Who says Mercer is untouchable?"

There was a moment of stunned silence before Mord' U chuckled with awe and shock. "You aren't insinuating that you- You sly bastard."

Carson shook his head as well, equally in awe as I relaxed back in the couch. "How? If this man is as paranoid as you said he is, how have you made contact already when he knows you're hunting for him? That he's the last on your list?"

A spark of amusement, of pride fluttered through my belly as I basked in their awe. "Whoever said he was the last?" I murmured, leaning forwards while intertwining my fingers to rest my chin on them. "I started the entire plan with Mercer."

"You see, I knew that if I started killing all of my former masters, Mercer's loyal dogs would come running to yip louder than the others of what they've discovered." I explained, remembering the days, weeks I had vengefully plotted everything down to the details.

"Mercer is many things and he had earned his title of being a smart, vindictive and talented man. But his ego is what's going to kill him."

While I had been in the care of the Bedouin, laying helplessly in a bed, I had plenty of time to think. There was no doubt on my mind that Mercer thought me dead, that there was no way for me to survive after being stabbed and left to rot in the desert.

If the injury didn't kill me, the sun and dehydration would. If not the vultures that would find me and start their feast while I was unconscious, slowly dying in that desolate place.

Which also meant that up until I was to reveal myself, I didn't exist in Mercer's world. His contacts would no longer have my profile or any information of me as Mercer would confidently announce how he got rid of the bastard slave that dared defy him.

Mercer had created a blind spot. A darkness that I could slip into, remain unseen until I was breathing down his neck.

Because of his insistence to have me as his slave and then discarding me as he did, he had given me valuable information. After all, I had been forced to serve the man for several years.

And during those years I had learned what made him tick. What drew Mercer's attention and what stayed out of his peripheral.

His ego, ignorance and malice was going to be exactly what killed him. And I couldn't wait to see the horror in his eyes when I reveal myself as he's gasping for his next breath.