Page 86 of Filthy Hot Prince

Khalid

My nose flared as I saw the sight of the library. Eleven people. Eleven people had tried to abduct my sister and decided to take Valeria. And they were all dead.

“They took a poison,” Elena announced, checking the pulse of Tamara’s limp body. I had trusted Valeria in her hands. And she betrayed us. “They knew the risks of coming here.”

Elena Hill was my betrothed before we both broke it and she left Azmia to continue her training in order to become a better sharp shooter. At least that’s what she told us. She had worked along with CIA and FBI before Zain called her for her help with security when he married Nasrin. She knew better than any of us what had happened in the library.

Zayed was patting everyone’s clothes, checking what they had. They all were holding an empty small glass bottle, which likely had the poison they took. I pulled my suit jacket over Valeria’s dainty shoulders and pulled her to my chest, wishing she didn’t have to hear any of that. But I didn’t trust anyone to keep her safe.

The guards checked the windows of the library and I had guessed they had broken in from one of the windows, breaking it and waiting for Tamara. The maid I had trusted.

“Khalid,” Zayed called out. “You need to see this.”

He shook his head when I tried to bring Valeria along with me. I clenched my jaw and sat her on one of the couches. She clutched the sleeve of my shirt when I tried to move back. It pained me to see her so hurt and scared.

I tucked her hair behind her ear and gently kissed her hands. “I am not going anywhere, my sweet one. Just say my name and I will be with you. There are four guards watching over you. You are safe, Valeria.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded, letting go of my sleeve and holding the suit closer to her. I stood up and the guards nodded at me before I went towards Zayed, who was looking over a small cloth.

“What is it?”

“It has a pattern over it.Look,” he held it in his palm, a single wave on the cloth.

“A wave?” I questioned, thinking about all the political history lessons I had to learn during my childhood as a Prince.

Elena walked towards her, still in dress, her left heel missing. “Everyone has the same patterns.”

I glanced at the eleven small waves and turned one around. “It could be a letter.”

“Like Batman?” Zayed frowned.

“It’s a letter S, you imbecile.” Elena glared at him.

He repeated her sentence, mocking her voice.

I ignored them.

S? What for?

“We found him hiding in between the bookshelves.” Two guards held the stranger in black clothing on his knees in front of us. He glared at us and I took a step back when Elena punched him in the face.

“What was that for?” Zayed asked her, lightly rubbing his stubble as if she would hit him next.

She glared at the man as he spit out blood and a tooth. “He broke my favorite Louboutin.”

I turned towards the intruder, asking the guard to search his clothes. A similar cloth like the others was in his pocket. “What does this mean?” I held it up for him.

He didn’t reply.

I glanced at his hands, noticing the reddish marks on his knuckles. So, there you are. Anger fueled my body as I wrapped my fist around the collar of his tunic.

“Should I gouge out your eyes or cut your arms?” I whispered, glaring at his face.

“Calm down, Khalid.” I ignored Zayed and punched the man in front of me. Even the guards backed away as I held him down.

“Tell me. Your eyes or your arms,” I ordered, my nose flaring at him.

“Khal—”

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