Seduced By The Bad Boy Sheikh: A Royal Billionaire Bad Boy Romance (16 page)

H
oly fucking hell
. This could not be happening to me.

After Natalie ran out, the place cleared out pretty fast. I didn't stop to talk to anyone, I just got up and stormed out as people were still shuffling towards the door. Some people may have stayed and finished dinner, but I didn't care.

I stalked down the hallway and into the den. Looking at the trophy of a camel’s head that was felled by my great-great-great-grandfather Amir bin Al-Alim, I cursed the day I was born into the royal family. It made me a target and when people couldn't get what they want, they thought it was perfectly acceptable to hurt the one's I cared about.

Of course I knew who gave Natalie that file that she was reading and crying over. There was only one person that knew.

Lady fucking Nadia Hussein.

My dad must have been following me because he stormed in right after me. Unlike me, he didn't stop at the boar's head but walked straight to the wet bar. He pulled out two glasses and poured a general helping of whiskey into them. He took both and brought one to me.

"Take it," he commanded. I obeyed and downed the drink.

"Fuck," I said aloud, thinking how my plans had gone fucking pear shaped in the matter of fucking minutes.

"Why didn't you say anything, son?" he yelled, looking at me, putting the glass back down on the bar. "Why didn't you tell her?"

"What the fuck am I going to say?" I yelled back, frustrated with myself for the situation I'm placed in. "I had to protect him!"

Father filled the glasses again and sat down in a plush, overstuffed chair. "You have to tell her, Aziz," he said.

I remained silent, walking to the window and looking out at the tall skyscrapers off in the distance. The central business district of Qumar was home to a host of multinational corporations from all over the world. The low corporate tax rate and ease of doing business made our country a haven for foreign direct investment.

"Aziz," Father said again. "You've proven your point, son. You've shown me that you're cut out to be Sultan. You have displayed attributes of perseverance, honor, duty, and now, loyalty."

I turned towards my Father. I couldn't believe he was praising me so highly. For a man who rarely spoke well of me the last few years, this was something entirely unexpected.

"But I want you to think about yourself, for once now, son," Father continued. "Don't let your loyalty cloud your focus. Don't let it ruin your life. And above all, don't let those who benefit from your goodness use it against you."

I walked over to the bar and grabbed the glass of whiskey. I downed it again, feeling it burn as it went down.

Father came up to me and put an arm on my shoulder. "When I first courted your mother, she fell in love with me, but she saw the vicious politics of our country and a part of her was afraid that it would tear us apart," Father said softly. "She initially refused to marry me. But I made a grand gesture afterwards that convinced her that she was the only woman for me."

I turned towards my father, my eyes asking what that gesture was. I had never heard him tell me this story.

"I carry it with me every day, Aziz," he said, pulling out a letter from his pocket.

He handed it to me, and I began to read it.

Fuck me.

It was a letter from Sultan Sayid bin al Mussayef renouncing the throne for matters of the heart. I read the letter, speechless at what I was reading.

I turned towards my father.

"Make a grand gesture, Aziz," he said, squeezing my shoulder. "Show her how much you love her. The person you protect would have wanted that if he could have been here."

And with a gruff smile, he walked out, leaving me to my thoughts.

* * *

I
tried
to wake Natalie at some point in the evening after I collected my thoughts, but she didn't let me in. Couldn't say I fucking blamed her. I must have seemed like an asshole like no other.

I began to make some calls. I called Hamid in and sat down and explained what I wanted to do. He agreed wholeheartedly and told me it was about fucking time. Seriously, he used those words. "About fucking time, Your Highness."

Fuck me if I didn't realize that I was slowly letting go of the past that had held me back so long.

I went to sleep around 2 that morning and woke up at 6. It was going to be a busy day.

* * *

I
had
a different dress uniform that next morning at 8:30 am. I fingered the ring I had presented to Natalie the night before. If everything went well, then maybe there was a chance she would consider me again. I fingered my other pocket, and felt the item I was looking for, and smiled briefly

Hamid had set everything up just as I had told him to. The press began to gather at the steps to the palace around 8:45 am, with security holding them back past a perimeter. Photographers snapped pictures of me.

I had been out of the public eye for quite some time and the media were salivating to see what I did next. I could imagine quite a lot of media outlets wondering what they could do with all the reporters they had hired for their "Aziz beat" that were sitting around the last month and a half twiddling their fucking thumbs as I kept my nose clean.

Well, not exactly clean, I mean it had been in Natalie quite a bit. Along with my tongue. And fingers. And my massive cock.

I smiled to myself as the media gathered. At exactly 9:00 am, Hamza, the Royal PR man went to the podium and turned on the microphone. He knew that I was going to be making a statement, but not much more than that. He wasn't happy about it. But then again, I didn't want to ruin this last, delicious story.

"Ladies, and gentlemen," Hamza said into the microphone, "Here now, Sheikh Aziz al Salam Mussayef."

Photo bulbs flashed as I took the podium, looking out into the sea of journalists and the sizable crowd of pedestrians who had stopped to see what the spectacle was.

"Ladies, and gentlemen," I began, pulling out my notes. "I will have a prepared statement, after which I will not take any questions. This statement should be being broadcast on all local channels, and the Royal Broadcasting Office is pushing this on the airwaves of all non-local satellite and cable television channels as well as all radio frequencies. Pretty much the only channels not impacted are military channels utilized for defense. The reason for this is simple...and that is to reach all people as quickly as possible with what I'm going to say."

I looked into the cameras, taking a deep breath. "For the last several years, I have been harboring a very close secret that has been eating me alive," I said, keeping my voice steady. "It's caused me to act out in ways that many of you are familiar with - generally to the point where half the world either knows me as 'Sheikh Party' while the other half knows me as 'Sheikh Passion'. I'll leave you to figure out who thinks what."

There was a small ripple of laughter as I continued. "But the truth is that I was acting out. Acting out in ways that masked a deep pain that I hid from the world."

I paused as the journalists began to sense the crux of the story and the cameras started to flash.

"You'll all know that I was in Afghanistan several years ago. What many don't know, through my own instructions at the time, was that I was placed within the elite commando unit known at the time as Special Force Team 4."

The cameras begin to flash faster. "We were tasked with deep penetration missions that were deemed too dangerous for regular infantry. We reveled in the danger. Until one day, when it all went bad."

I paused and look at the cameras rolling in the back and wondered if Natalie was watching. Hamid had informed me that she had left the palace in the morning, and that they were currently locating her.

"I was the Captain of my unit, and I accepted full responsibility for the events of that day, but the brass as well as a Board of Inquiry determined that the circumstances as they had been placed had left me making the best of a bad situation. We had been lured into a trap by enemy forces outside of Kandahar, and we struggled for days to stay alive in a zone that was meant to make us vulnerable instantly and kill us quick. The Board of Inquiry ruled that the fact that I had kept my team alive so long was a testament to my skills."

The cameras began flashing even faster.

"But from where I was sitting, I didn't feel like I had done anything. Because I lost someone under my command. He never made it out of the valley, and it was because of my orders. He died, protecting us. He died, protecting me. I had to make the call, to protect the rest of the unit. I wasn't in his location, otherwise I would have been the one that stayed behind. But all I could do was radio the order."

I noticed that the number of people who are standing looked like it had increased dramatically.

"His name was Anwar ab Hussein, perhaps my best friend in the world."

The cameras went crazy. People had known Anwar. We had grown up in front of the cameras together.

"But Anwar left a legacy. He left behind an heir and a woman that he was planning on proposing to once he got back. Only, he never came back. Which left a badge of what his family felt was dishonor that they had wanted to remain hidden."

I looked into the camera and spoke. "For too long, Clara Kane and her son, the son of Anwar, have lived in silence. No longer. If Anwar were here today, he would want the world to know that he loved them. That he was going to marry Clara and put his life in order."

The cameras at this point formed a continuous wall of flash bulbs.

"I have been supporting and ensuring that Clara and Andrew Kane are taken care of, but as of this day, I will officially ask Parliament to recognize them as part of the House of Hussein in recognition for Anwar's valor."

Journalists were standing up, and typing furiously into their phones.

"There was no dishonor," I said, "Except that which I committed myself. For too long, I allowed myself to grieve and my wound festered. And I embarrassed this office. And this nation. And when I finally realized what I had done, it was all because of one woman."

The journalists quieted down, realizing there was more to this story.

"This woman has saved me, ladies and gentlemen. This woman has made me strong enough to stand here today, and tell the world that I love her. That I care for her first, before all else. That I will protect her and be with her. Even if it means stepping down from the crown."

I could have cut the tension in the air with a fucking knife.

"This woman, who has been hurt by allegations made against me by the very people I sought to protect can no longer be placed in a position where she will feel pain for my actions or inactions. This woman, this love of my life, I am happy to announce is Natalie Ewing. She has no title. Not of noble birth. But she is Queen of my heart."

If there was a sight for pandemonium erupting, it would be the press of reporters who were there that morning. The crowd went wild and cheered when they heard, but the media. They didn't know whether to take pictures or call in the story or shout questions. Some sat there, slack-jawed and unable to grasp what was occurring.

"This woman has been hurt by me, but I am here today to tell the world that I love her with a love that no one will ever be able to chisel. That no one will ever be able to tarnish. And I plan on ending this statement now to ask her to marry me. Again."

Then I added with a smirk, "Thank you."

I left the lectern as security stopped the reporters from rushing towards me and got into the limousine as it began to move.

Hamid was in the front seat, next to the driver. "Sire, we have found Miss Ewing. She's at the residence of Clara Kane."

Well fuck me. "Let's go then," I said to Hamid, who signaled the driver. The car began to move.

The reporters were rushing the car, shouting questions. The pedestrians who stopped were cheering and clapping, all of a sudden finding their Sheikh Asshole was actually a hero.

I leaned back, pleased with myself.

Now that's the way you fucking do it
, I thought, hoping it worked.