Chapter 46 The new shock

Chapter 46 The new shock
Amrah:

The door handle rattled again before Zayd finally pulled away, his eyes still boring into mine.

He yanked the door open, and a man I had never seen before stepped in. He was dressed in all black, which contrasted with his white hair. It looked silver under the cabin lights.

My eyes dropped instinctively to his calves, where the fabric sat just a little too stiffly.

Guns.

He was carrying guns under there, the same way Edison did.

Did Dad change my bodyguard without telling me?

"What now?" Zayd's voice cut through my confusion, sharp and irritated in a way I hadn't heard from him before.

"Sir, everything is ready," the man said.

Sir?

I frowned so hard my face ached. "Sir?" I repeated out loud this time. "Why is he calling you sir?"

Zayd ignored the question entirely.

"Alright."

Then, to me, "We should leave."

"Leave? Why? To where? Who even is he?"

"I will explain when we are out of here." His tone left no room for argument. "We have a lot to talk about anyway."

I had never heard him sound like that—with such finality, almost cold, leaving no room for argument.

Is he still angry about what I said about us?

"Okay," I said, because I didn't trust myself to say anything else.

Nothing prepared me for what was waiting outside.

A jet sat on the tarmac, its body a soft matte white that caught the moonlight. Through the open door, I could see cream leather seats spaced like a living room instead of rows, gold trim along the panels, and a small chandelier hanging where an aisle light should have been.

I knew what a private jet looked like, of course. Dad has two, and Kamal gifted one to his wife the night he proposed to her.

But this felt like something else entirely, something bigger than anything my family owned.

"Zayd!"

Chris's voice rang across the tarmac before I could ask another question. He came storming over, with Jack and a few others trailing behind him, his finger already jabbing toward Zayd's chest.

"You betrayed me," Chris spat, and before anyone could react, his fist connected with Zayd's jaw.

The white-haired man lunged forward instantly, his hand already reaching for something at his hip, but Zayd's cold voice stopped him.

"Jim!"

Jim froze mid-step, his jaw tight, clearly unhappy about it.

Zayd straightened, wiped his lip with the back of his hand, and walked toward Chris with a calm that scared me more than if he had shouted. He looked like he could kill at any moment.

He grabbed Chris by the collar, but not to hit him as everyone expected. He simply adjusted it, smoothing the fabric as though he were fixing a tie.

"This is the last time your fist ever touches this face," Zayd said, low enough that I almost missed it, but I heard every word.

Then he turned, took my hand, and pulled me toward the jet's entrance as though Chris didn't exist anymore.

"Wait—" I twisted to look back at the small crowd, searching for a familiar face. "Daphy! My phone, my bag—they're with Daphy. I need..."

The rest of my sentence disappeared when Zayd lifted me clean off my feet and carried me up the steps as though my protests weighed nothing at all.

"What is going on? Is that for Zayd?"

"It can't be. It should be Amrah's."

It is not mine! I'm as confused as you are.

I didn't get a single second to closely admire the jet's interior—not the leather nor the chandelier catching the light in soft little sparks.

But I couldn't miss the scent that filled the cabin. It smelled warm, clean, and impossibly luxurious.

Zayd set me down in a seat and dropped into the one directly across from me, close enough that our knees almost touched.

"So," he said, his voice terrifyingly even. "You were saying. Whatever we had was just to spite Chris?"

My brain was still stuck outside on the tarmac, spinning through everything that made no sense. A private jet. A man named Jim with guns strapped to his legs, obviously there to protect Zayd, calling him sir as though he ran something—or owned something big.

"Y-yeah," I said distractedly, the word slipping out before I had even fully processed the question.

Zayd's jaw ticked.

"Right," he said flatly, leaning back into his seat as though the answer had settled something for him, and he didn't like it.

"Wait, no, that's not—" I shook my head, trying to catch up with my own mouth. "Zayd, who is that man? Why does he have guns? Why did he call you sir?"

"That's not what I asked you."

"I know, but..." I gestured helplessly at the aircraft, at the door where Jim now stood guard, at everything.

"None of this makes sense. Since when do you have a private jet? Since when do you have security? You have never once mentioned any of this in the entire time I've known you."

Something flickered across his face, but it was gone before I could be sure what it was.

"There's a lot you don't know about me, Amrah."

"Clearly." My voice cracked on the word, equal parts fear and disbelief. "So enlighten me. Because right now, I feel like I just got kidnapped by a stranger wearing Zayd's face."

"I'm not a stranger."

"Then who are you?" My hands were shaking in my lap, and I hated that they were. "Because the Zayd I know doesn't have bodyguards. He doesn't have jets."

Zayd exhaled slowly, running his fingers through his hair, and for the first time since the door had opened back in that cabin, he looked tired instead of hard.

"This is not mine."

Zayd stood up and helped me fasten my seat belt as he spoke.

"Really? Then whose is it?" I asked, glancing at Jim, who was now walking away as the door closed.

"A friend's," was Zayd's short and vague reply.

A friend. It can't be Chris because they've obviously fallen out... all because of me.

"And Jim, who is he?"

"He works for my friend," came another vague reply as Zayd fastened his own seat belt.

Is he being serious right now? Am I supposed to believe that?

The automated announcement blared, and the jet took off soon after.

"Zayd, you are not being truthful. And you are being difficult," I blurted out in annoyance.

"You and I both know I can't afford this luxury, but I have friends who can. As for being difficult..." His gaze settled on me. "This is just me trying to stop myself from kissing the little liar out of you, Amrah."

My mind went blank for a moment and my eyes instinctively went to his lips. 

That was fucking hot.