Dark Desires: Deliverance (8 page)

Andrei returned to
the house, with Vlad in tow, to find that the girls he'd left at the door had
made themselves comfortable in the lounge. "Make
yourselves
at home" he muttered sarcastically.

"We're not
leaving until you bring us our friend" Macy stated in defiance.

"In the event
that she's not a missing person, I would understand her reasoning behind
falling off the radar if I lived in a place like this," Toni said as she
twirled her index finger around in gesticulation to her surroundings.

"It's just not
like her Toni. We talk almost every day. Even though it hasn't been as frequent
as it used to be with the new men in our lives, she would have at least sent me
a text after a few days of silence. Something is wrong" Natasha explained
throwing a glare in Vlad's direction.

Vlad took a seat on
the opposite couch facing all three women. He had gotten to know Natasha when
she came over for Sunday lunch with her boyfriend
Mandla
.
He could understand the accusatory look she was giving him now, he was the last
person to be seen with her closest friend and he'd fucked up in a major way
since then. As for the other women gathered before him, he vaguely remembered
meeting them at the club when he ran into Val the night following their
hook-up. It was unfortunate that they were meeting under these strenuous
circumstances.

There was a thick
tension that had settled around everyone in the room. Natasha had gotten a good
look at Vlad and he didn't resemble the well put together man she had met the
last time she was in his home. His eyes were bloodshot and seemed tired as if
he had not been getting much sleep. His usually smooth face was covered in a
light beard that had grown out from days without shaving. If she had suspected
that something was amiss before, seeing the state of the man in front of her
had confirmed it.

"Where is she
Vlad?"

"Natasha… there
was an incident." His thoughts weren't as coherent and sharp as they
usually were. He was tired and now he had to determine what he could or
couldn't say to ensure that her friends didn't compromise Val or what they were
planning.

Razvan
came into the main house to establish exactly what was going on. He knew that
Vlad was beginning to crack under the emotional pressure of having someone you
love taken away from you. It hadn't gone unnoticed by both men that the cool
façade he usually wore had slipped and he wasn't getting much sleep if any when
he retired to his bedroom. He exchanged a few words with Andrei by the sliding,
glass doors in Romanian as Vlad talked to the women who had come to see about
their friend.

"About a week
ago she left for school. She hadn't returned by the time I finished preparing
dinner. I got a call from a man who told me he was holding her hostage."

"Why would they
call you? You've only known her for all of two minutes" Macy shot back,
unsatisfied with the abridged version of the tale.

Toni sat silently
looking between the two men by the sliding doors, who spoke in hushed tones in
a foreign language, and Vlad. As carefree as she often portrayed herself to be,
she was actually about to finishing her degree in Actuarial Science. Her mind
was brilliant at piecing together information and she could surmise the
circumstances of Val's abduction. "It's him. They took her because of
him." Her eyes were on Vlad, daring him to refute her claim.

"They need
something from me and they've promised to give her back once I get it" he
offered in reassurance.

"What
shit are
you involved in? What kind of mess have you gotten
my best friend into?" Natasha questioned bitterly. He had appeared to be
nothing more than a handsome, successful businessman but looks were deceiving.
He had deceived them both and Val was paying for it.

At that point,
Razvan
chose to step in. He could tell that Vlad was trying
to be civil, but he doubted he could maintain his composure much longer with
emotions running at an all-time high and accusations being thrown around. He
walked towards his brother, took a seat next to him, and lowered his voice to
address Vlad in their native tongue, "I'll take care of this. Go try and
get some sleep, you look like shit."

"It's rude to
speak a language your guests don't understand" Macy pointed out as she looked
at the two men in front of her. She was getting very tired, very quickly with
the underlying secrecy going on around them.

As if her words were
the last straw, Vlad got up and headed for the staircase that would lead him to
his cove of solace.
Razvan
focused on the black woman
who seemed to be leading the witch hunt. She had a striking face even though
her countenance gave an air of hostility. He had seen that grim set of
determination worn by
Mihaela
and knew that she would
not be leaving until she was given answers she deemed satisfactory. "I'm
going to need everyone to calm down. We are just here to help. Vladimir is
doing everything he can and spreading the blame around won't bring her
back." The tranquil demeanour he exuded cooled everyone down a notch.

"Is there
anything we can do?" asked Natasha who was on the verge of tears.

"Yes, you can
keep this quiet."

"Quiet? Have you
called the police?" asked Macy, liking things less and less as the details
of her missing friend unravelled.

"No, we can't call
the police,"
Razvan
replied, keeping his voice
at a conversational level.

"The police
wouldn't be able to do anything would they?" Toni asked. As much as the
men around her gave the impression of being polished and clean, there was
something off about all of them. It was an edge that spoke dubiously to their
character if one dared to scratch the surface.

Andrei had had enough
of the civilities that his brothers tried so hard to preserve. "No, they
wouldn't. Who's the closest to Val here?"

"I am" Natasha
offered as she pulled herself together.

"I need you to
be in talks with her family. Text them, tell them she's alright. Pretend to be
her, but no calls and no matter what, you cannot tell them what we've told you.
This little gathering stays between the people in this house."

"I can't lie to
her family!"

"You can and you
will. If the police get involved then this will become an even bigger mess than
it already is."

"How is that
even possible? Are you involved in something illegal?" Toni threw in. She
was beginning to understand Macy's frustration. The more they talked, the more
questions she had.

"No,
its
political."

"
Raz
…" Andrei all but growled.

"We can't say
more than we already have but I need you to trust that we are doing everything
in our power to get her back. We're leaving the country tomorrow. If we find
out anything new, I'll call you."

"How can you
leave the country when she's missing?" Natasha shouted, flabbergasted that
these men would even think of disappearing when the state of affairs was so
dire.

"Fuck! She's not
here!" Andrei barked out in frustration.
"Fucking
emotional women."
Honestly speaking, he was done with their little
meeting. He was ready to fly to Turkey, organise the shipping and
transportation, get his brothers woman back, and subsequently, return to his
life in Russia where the only time he worried about a woman was whether she was
enjoying herself in his bed. His little outburst had earned him a withering
look from Macy. He couldn't care less and held her gaze as a challenge, one she
met gladly.

Razvan
had placed all his concern on Vlad having an outburst, forgetting how
hot-headed his younger brother could be, and how he also tended to run his
mouth at the most inopportune moments. He was about to step in but was beat to
the punch by the young, Indian woman who seemed to radiate the same amount of
composure he did.

"Okay, here are
our numbers," she spoke in an effort to break the tension while jotting down
their individual names and numbers on the notepad that sat on the table between
them. "Call us when you have any news." She then got up and placed
her hand in Macy's, who was still having a stare off with Andrei. "Let's
go, we'll talk about this at home. There's nothing we can do here."

Macy turned and
stormed out of the house dragging Toni, whose hand was still nestled in her
own, with her.

Natasha was a bit
hesitant about leaving. Nothing was resolved and she was worried that the
previous altercation would cut off the only line of communication she had in
learning the whereabouts of her best friend. "Call us if you hear
anything, please." She directed her pleading, emerald eyes at
Razvan
. Shortly after, she followed her friends out and
gently closed the large, wooden door behind her.

The following morning
Val got up earlier than usual to retrieve her vest and shorts from the
bathroom. They looked old and tatty and she couldn't wait for the day that she
would throw them away, better yet, torch them. Yes, people torched items of
oppression all the time as a cleansing ritual. When this ordeal was over, she
would need one hell of a bonfire. Staring at her reflection she noticed that
her braids were starting to look untidy. She didn't have any of the regular
maintenance products she used at her disposal which meant defaulting to regular
shampoo or conditioner whenever the itch became unbearable. She had all the
time in the world. Today she would take them off and allow her hair to breathe.
At the sound of her protesting stomach, she decided to wait for breakfast
before starting the laborious task.

After a few hours of
waiting, Moe arrived with breakfast. As usual, she continued being genial
towards him, but his replies sounded clipped and terse to her ears.
Maybe
he's just having a bad day. Everyone is allowed to have a bad day.
On her
serving cart, this morning was a bouquet of white roses. "These are
beautiful." His only reply was a smile and a courteous bow before he left.

She didn't fare any
better with her efforts during the lunch delivery either, Even so, she would
keep trying.

Before dinner was
brought in, she managed to get her wild mane to behave – sort of. She had let
it air dry and combed out the frizzy, thick mass. Looking at her reflection,
she wasn't quite sure what more could be done. It wasn't great and it wasn't
terrible either. Smiling to herself, she thought to ask Moe for his
opinion, that
would surely be a great conversation starter.
When she heard the door unlock, she left the bathroom to greet the man she was
trying to force her company on. Instead, she was met with the sheik
who
pushed in the dinner cart.

"Good
evening" he greeted, in a friendly tone. She looked different. He noticed
that the braids were gone and in its place were wild, thick locks that sat on
her shoulders. She looked beautiful.

"Hi" was
all she could manage. She was in a mild state of shock as she stood rooted
under the archway between her bedroom and the bathroom. Why was he here?

"I thought I
would join you for dinner tonight."

"Why?"

"Do you not want
company?"
Keyaan
began arranging the pillows
against the wall to support his back and made
himself
comfortable on the Ottoman.

"Yes, I do. Can
Gaby join us?"

"No, she is
having dinner with the rest of the family."

"What about
tomorrow?" She knew she was pushing her luck. It was evident that the two
did not like each other but the thought of being alone with him was daunting,
especially after everything she had learnt about the man.

"I think she has
tarnished my name enough."

"So she was
lying?"

Breathing a sigh of
frustration, he gave the most cordial answer he could muster when it came to
the topic of his brother's
pet
. "She was sharing
her own
biases which is
not the same as telling the
truth."

"So you aren't a
king?"

"Not
in the conventional sense, no."

"You're
hedging." Val leaned against the wall. She would stay right where she
stood until he made his exit. "How are you or aren't you a king?"

"My mother is
the sheik's oldest sister. He is dying and is currently in an incapacitated
state. He has also failed to produce a male heir. Since I am the oldest male in
the bloodline, when he passes I will inherit the throne so to speak. Since I
have taken over his duties, I am acting king. That is why people have assigned
me the title, albeit prematurely."

"That sounds
like the typical royal spiel except for the next-male-in-line nonsense. That's
patriarchal bullshit. Your mother should
  get
the
crown next" Val threw out as she shifted her weight to her other leg.

"Customs,
traditions and generational thinking are a very hard thing to break."

"So you
perpetuate it instead because it works to your benefit."

Keyaan
leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs and stroked his beard. This is
not how he had planned for tonight to go
nevertheless,
it was intriguing - she was intriguing. He could tell that she was scared of
him based on the distance she kept between
them,
it
was
déjá
vu of the first time they met. However, she
was not hesitant in voicing her opinion. He wouldn't win her over with trinkets
or idle chatter. He changed gears and pushed forward.

"My mother never
married my father. I am what some would call a bastard child. Even though he was
a rebel, he came from a very prominent family, so the union between them was
still favourable regardless of whether or not it had been cemented in a
customary way. He would have taken over the
title, that
was until he died in battle."

"That's…"
Val was looking for the right words but they all seemed to elude her.
"Heavy. Why…" She had so many questions now that he was here but
she'd have to tread carefully.

"Go ahead and
ask."
Keyaan
leaned back into the pillows and
got comfortable. He would allow his special guest to satisfy her curiosity
tonight.

"Why did I get
one of your personal guards?"

He
quirked his eyebrow in surprise.
Now he was curious
about how much Gabriella had actually revealed before he walked in on their
tété
á
tété
. "You are
important to me."

"But
why?"

His thoughts briefly
went to Ayana. He cleared his mind and focused on the here and now. If she was
so desperate to know why she was here then he would gladly tell her. "My
father was Syrian and my mother is Saudi. From a very young age, my father
taught me about the history of his country and made his vision mine. We need a
fighting chance in the current war and your boyfriend" he said the word in
disgust "is the locked door that stands in the way. You, my dear," he
threw his chin in her direction, "are his key."

Val had learned that
Vlad was an arms dealer when she was with Mehmet and before that, she surmised
he was a dangerous man when she found his weapons. They had never discussed
that aspect of his
business,
however, when he did
speak about his other interests she gathered he was a sharp professional in all
his pursuits. "My boyfriend is a smart business man. If he didn't want to
do business with you, then there must have been a good reason why. By coercing
him into this contract and using me as collateral, he would be operating under
duress. He would have every right to claim back his merchandise after the deal,
so why go through all the trouble?"

"I see that
you're not only beautiful but smart as well. Come dine with me your food is
getting cold, afterwards, we can continue this discussion."

Hesitantly, Val left
her post and took a seat on the other end of the Ottoman styled couch - as far
away from him as she could possibly be without falling over the edge. They shared
the meal in silence. After a few minutes
Keyaan
reached underneath the cart and pulled out a silver bucket, "would you
like a glass of wine?"

Val's eyebrows shot
up in surprise, "I thought alcohol was considered
haraam
?"

"I see you know
the Muslim faith."

"My ex was
Iranian so I learnt the basics" she replied absent-mindedly. She hadn't
thought of
Rehan
in a very long time, not since Vlad
returned from his business trip and she inadvertently moved in with him shortly
afterwards.

"Interesting.
Well, I don't follow the faith anymore. I don't believe in a god. Following on
that premise, I don't believe in any restrictions imposed by him, her or
it." He poured her a glass and handed it to her.

"Why did you
lose your faith?" Val was trying to keep him busy. She didn't trust this
genial façade he was putting before her. She only ate the food because he had
eaten it and she would only drink the wine once he drank his.

"Life has been
cruel." He took a sip of his own glass and she immediately relaxed.
"Children die, wars are fought and diseases run rampant. If this
miraculous, spiritual, all-powerful being did exist, then surely he would have
intervened on behalf of all those who worship at his feet, but he hasn't."
Keyaan
stared off into the distance, thinking of all
the prayers he had sent up and how they had gone unanswered. That was when he
was young and naïve, now he knew better.

"I guess that's
where faith comes in.
Believing when it doesn't seem
possible.
‘Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of
things not seen'."

"Or it's simply
wishful thinking." He was a cynic – life had taught him the hard way that
people were motivated by self-interest rather than acting for unselfish or
honourable reasons.

She'd had enough
arguments with atheists to know that once a mind was made up, it was difficult
to change it. She dropped the subject. She was in no mood for a religious
debate.

After a few more
bites she attempted to steer the conversation back on track. "So why
wouldn't Vlad supply you with weapons?"

"He's Russian.
The latest weapons being used in the war are from the Russian military. They
are also the allies of the current Syrian government. By supplying to me, the
opposition, he would be in contravention of the agreement that is binding on both
countries."

"Is he the only
person you can get your weapons from?"

"No, however, he
is the easiest and will supply them timeously because I have you."

Val stopped chewing
and swallowed heavily, "If there is a government embargo on such a deal,
what makes you confident enough to believe he would violate their policy?"

"I can't say for
sure but love is a very powerful tool for motivation." He eyed her over
the rim of his glass as he took another sip. "We'll find out soon
enough."

Fuck! He thinks Vlad
is in love with me! Shit! Shit! Shit!
If this deal was
hanging in the balance of this so called "love" then she was royally
screwed. It had only been a few days after Vlad had given her a declaration of
assurance between them, that she was taken hostage. They had barely begun the
journey of being in a committed relationship. She knew she loved him but she
was uncertain whether her feelings were requited. Even if he had enough money
to rival Warren Buffet, she doubted he had the kind of power to commit sedition
without putting his livelihood at risk. Would he take that kind of risk for
her? The resounding
no
in her head incinerated her fragile hope and she
suddenly lost her appetite.

"What's
wrong?"

"Nothing.
I've had enough to eat and would like to go to bed." She needed time
alone. She couldn't handle any more truths tonight.

Something he said had
shifted Valerie's mood. He could sense it. Backtracking on the last few lines,
he filtered through what he had told her. Like a bloodhound, he locked on what
had affected her disposition. She was uncertain that love would be the right
tool to use against Vladimir. He had gotten more than he could have hoped for
tonight. He looked at her again and saw that her mind was adrift.

"Did you like
the gift?"

"What?" Valerie
snapped out of her ominous thoughts.

"The
flowers."

"Oh, yes.
They're beautiful." As if registering what
Keyaan
had just asked her she had a question of her own. "Why did you have them
brought to me?"

"They symbolise
a new beginning."

"Why are you
being nice to me all of a sudden?"

"Would you
rather I was not?"

She didn't have a
reply to that. At this point in time, she wasn't sure about anything anymore.
He stood up to take his leave. He loaded the remnants of the meal they shared
together into the food cart. When he was done he stood in front of her and bent
down to plant a kiss on her forehead before turning and leaving.

The evening had taken
a strange turn.
Keyaan
was nothing like the man she
had imagined him to be. As she got ready for bed, her mind was trying to
reconcile the man Gabriella had told her about to the one that she had met. He
was calculating and taciturn as far as she could tell, but he didn't behave
like the tyrant people avoided and feared. Tonight she had just met a man with a
cause and a very wicked way of getting things done.

She climbed into her
bed, closed her eyes and tried to find her happy place. She desperately needed
her happy place. The resounding image of Vlad popped into her mind, she hoped
that he would be able to work some kind of miracle to get her out of this mess.
The thought was shortly followed by how he made her ache with pleasure. The
irony of it all was not lost on her but what was a girl to do? She had gone
from having Vlad in various ways, multiple times a night, to having nothing.
The withdrawal was inevitable.