Chapter 71 MARRAKECH
THIRD PERSON’S POV.
A soft thud echoed through the cabin as the wheels finally touched down, sending a gentle shudder through the aircraft. For a moment, the world outside felt impossibly new.
Serena pressed her hands against the window, eyes wide as the desert sun bounced off the terracotta rooftops of Marrakech.
Trisha let out a soft gasp beside her.
“This… this is unreal,” she whispered, leaning closer to get a better view. “Look at all the colors.”
From above, the city looked like a tapestry—burnt orange walls, turquoise tiles glinting in the sun, tiny specks of people weaving through the winding streets. Even from the ground now, the air carried a faint scent of spices and something sweet, like fresh pastries drifting somewhere in the distance.
The jet door opened, and a warm breeze rolled in, carrying the sounds of distant calls, faint music, and the soft hum of a city that never truly paused.
The sunlight caught in Serena’s hair as she stepped onto the tarmac, and for a moment the weight of everything back home, the danger, the stress, the endless calculations felt far away.
“There’s just something comforting in the air,” Serena said softly, taking a deep breath. “Can you feel it?”
Trisha spun in a small circle on the tarmac, laughing under her breath. “Yes, I do! I could get lost here forever.”
“Glad you ladies are loving it so far.”
Oscar’s voice came from behind them as he and Damian walked down from the jet. Damian had Serena’s purse draped casually over one hand, like she had abandoned it in his care.
He stepped up beside her, lowering his voice.“Have fun. Forget everything happening in Monterra for a bit,” he murmured near her ear.
Serena felt her cheeks warm slightly. “I will.”
A few airport staff members were already unloading their suitcases from the jet, wheeling them toward a sleek black SUV waiting nearby. Everything moved quietly and efficiently, far removed from the chaos of a normal airport.
A uniformed attendant soon gestured politely toward a small building a short distance away.
“Immigration this way.”
Inside, the room was calm and cool, patterned tiles lining the floor and walls. A single officer sat behind the desk, flipping through passports with practiced ease.
“Passports, please.”
Damian handed theirs over first. The officer stamped each one slowly, the sharp thud of the stamp echoing faintly in the quiet room.
Then the door behind them slid open, A tall man in a light linen suit stepped inside, holding a leather folder under his arm as he got closer to them, Damian’s guards flew to the guns carefully tucked into their suit pants.
“Mr Damian Crowne,” the man declared, pausing his steps.
“Relax boys,” Damian said, “that’s the tour guide.”
The guards hesitated but then slowly unhanded their guns. “Sorry about that,” Damian apologized.
The tour guide's smile was polite but confident, like someone used to greeting travelers from all over the world. “It’s not a problem,” he said smoothly. “My name is Karim. I’ll be your guide during your stay here in Marrakech.”
Trisha’s eyes brightened immediately. “You’re our tour guide?”
Karim nodded.
Oscar made a face, “why’s that so exciting?”
“I thought it would be best to meet you here so everything is prepared for your arrival in the city.” Karim continued.
The immigration officer finished stamping the final passport and slid them back across the counter.
“Welcome to Morocco.”
Serena picked hers up, glancing briefly at the fresh ink on the page.
Karim gestured toward the exit where the sunlight poured through the glass doors.
“Your luggage has already been loaded into the car,” he said. “The drive into the city is only about fifteen minutes.”
Trisha grabbed Serena’s arm the second they stepped outside again.
“Fifteen minutes,” she whispered excitedly. “Fifteen minutes until we’re actually in Marrakech.”
Serena looked out toward the distant skyline again, where the city shimmered under the afternoon sun.Something about it already felt alive.
“You guys go with him,” Damian declared, “Oscar and I will head to our branch office. I’m sure Jake has sent word on who the attacker is.” After a short pause he added, “I’ll meet you at the resort soon.”
Seren nodded and smiled softly. “Then let’s not keep the city waiting.”
Damian had barely settled into the chair behind the desk when Oscar’s phone lit up on the table between them.
Oscar glanced at the screen.
“Jake.”
Damian didn’t hesitate.
“Put him on speaker.”
Oscar answered and tapped the screen before placing the phone down.
“Alright Jake, what do you have?”
Jake didn’t waste time.
“We haven’t found them.”
Damian’s eyes lifted immediately.
“But we did find some surveillance cameras,” Jake continued. “The ones they had hidden along the private road leading to your estate.”
Oscar straightened in his chair.
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah,” Jake replied. “Three of them. Small, well hidden. Whoever installed them knew exactly what they were doing. They were positioned to catch every vehicle entering and leaving that road.”
Damian’s jaw tightened slightly.
“So someone’s been watching the house.”
“Yes,” Jake responded. “But not for long. We sweep that area every week, and the last time we did a sweep was last weekend.”
Oscar leaned forward.
“That means this attack was rushed.”
“Yes,” he continued. “That’s probably why they were forced to use a suicide bomber. They didn’t have time to come up with something better.”
“Wait,” Damian cut in. “Did you track the signal?”
“We tried,” Jake said.
Damian leaned forward slightly.
“And?”
“We managed to follow the feed for a bit. It bounced through a few encrypted servers at first, but our tech guys kept pushing until we finally narrowed it down.”
“To where?” Damian asked.
Jake exhaled softly on the other end.
“Downtown Monterra.”
Oscar frowned.
“Downtown Monterra? Isn’t that a bit odd?”
“Why is it odd?” Damian asked.
Oscar shrugged slightly.
“We can’t search downtown. It’s too broad. We need something more specific.”
“Well,” Jake said, his voice sounding slightly muffled over the phone, “I hate to break it to you, but that’s all we got. I’m guessing they realized we’d found the cameras, so they killed the transmission before we could track it any further.”
A brief silence settled in the room.
“So what do we do now?” Damian finally asked.
“We wait, sir,” Jake replied. “If they attacked today, they’ll try again another day.”
“We can’t do much with the information we have right now.”
“Exactly, sir. For now we just keep a close eye on everything.”
Damian cleared his throat and lowered his voice slightly.
“Jake… I need you to also check my father-in-law.”
There was a pause.
“Mr. Gregory?”
“Shhh,” Damian quickly cut in. “Just add him to the investigation. You can never be too careful.”
“Of course,” Jake said after a moment. “If that’s all, sir, can I go?”
“Sure,” Damian replied. “Just keep me updated.”
The call ended, leaving the room suddenly quiet.
Oscar slowly leaned closer across the table.
“Are you really having Horace investigated for attempted murder?” he whispered. “Do you honestly think he’s capable of trying to kill you?”
Damian’s expression remained calm.
“You saw his file,” he said. “The man still has connections in the drug world. I’m sure one of them would convince him he could take me on.”
““Pssh,” Oscar scoffed. “Then they clearly don’t know what you’re capable of.”
Damian didn’t answer right away.
Instead, he reached for his phone sitting on the desk and tapped the screen. “We should go meet the girls.”
He didn’t want to linger too long on the topic of Serena’s family.
More importantly, he didn’t want to accidentally reveal certain truths about his marriage to Serena.
Maybe he should have told Oscar the truth about the nature of his marriage to Serena.
He should have let him know it was a marriage of convenience for both of them, not just for him.
Maybe then Oscar would have understood why Trisha had been so persistent in asking him to convince Damian to marry Serena. Insisting that marrying Serena was the only way to save the company.
Maybe they would have figured the origin of the false rape accusation. Maybe they would have uncovered who truly threatened the survival of Damian’s company.