Page 74 of Dalla's Royal Guards
She met Musad’s eyes in the rearview.
“Musad?” she asked softly. “What is it?”
He didn’t look away from the mirror. “We’re being followed.”
Nasser’s fingers tightened around hers.
Dalla didn’t ask how Musad knew. She believed him. Her other hand slid silently toward the hidden seax at her waist. Her eyes met Raja’s when he followed the movement.
“Your men… they are well trained?” she asked.
Raja dipped his head in assent.
“Yes. They are aware that we are not alone,” he said.
Dalla shifted so she could look behind them. All she saw were the escort vehicles, yet she could feel the tension building inside her. As Harlem had said, you don’t live as long or through as much as they had without being aware of when you were being hunted.
Stella’s eyes narrowed into slits as the SUV pulled out of its space and merged behind two sleek black vehicles. A third trailed behind.
Well, well… The hunt has just become more interesting.
A smirk tugged at the corner of Stella’s lips as she watched the formation exit the hotel garage. She leaned forward and started her car. The BMW M2 purred to life.
“I see you brought friends to play.”
She eased forward along the curb outside of the hotel and watched as Dalla and Nasser Al-Rashid slipped into the tan vehicle. Her lips twitched again. They couldn’t have made it any easier to know which vehicle to focus on. The fact that Raja Hadi was also in the vehicle with them made the task ahead even sweeter.
I should get bonus pay for this,she wryly thought as she tapped her fingers on the steering wheel.
Irritation flashed through her when her phone buzzed across the center console.
She picked it up with a snap and answered. “Yes?”
“They’re on the move,” Kyle’s anxious voice said. “Just left the hotel?—”
“I know,” she cut him off. “Try to be useful next time.”
She ended the call and tossed the phone aside when the procession of vehicles started to pull away. Shifting gears, she smoothly merged into the oncoming traffic. She followed at a calculated distance, weaving between traffic like a silentpredator. The convoy up ahead navigated through a tight curve before merging onto the city’s outer arterial road.
And then—like cockroaches chasing the light—four other vehicles and two motorcycles slipped out from side streets.
Her eyes flared with irritation. “Detri.”
Curling her fingers around the steering wheel, she debated calling him to back off before she thought better of it. Her lips curled into a slow, feral grin as a new plan formed in her mind. Pleasure flared as the plan solidified.
“You want to play, Detri, fine! Let’s play,” she murmured. “You can soften the prey and create a distraction while I take care of business.”
She gripped the wheel and pushed the accelerator down, pacing the convoy from a few car lengths back. In her mind, she played out her mission: she would take out the driver first, then Hadi. There was speculation that the King of Simdan was a formidable opponent in battle. He certainly had experience. She relished the idea of toying with the devil, but her sights were set elsewhere; he was merely an obstacle, collateral damage in her pursuit.
Next, she would take out Nasser. He would try to protect the woman, but he would also be worried about his brother. She was confident he would try to help him, and when he did, she would put a bullet through him. That would leave the woman. A non-lethal bullet wound would keep her submissive. She could already hear O’Toole offering her a bonus the size of a private island for eliminating a few of the men causing him headaches in the region.
Now all I need is the perfect shot,she thought with grim determination, taking a right at the corner as the rest of the convoy sped straight.
“How many do you count?” Musad asked, glancing at the rearview mirror.
“Four plus two motorcycles,” Raja murmured, lifting his cellphone to his ear and listening to the driver in front of them. “Up ahead, take a left—go through the roundabout, second exit. We’ll head toward the Old Market.”
Musad cranked the wheel, and the SUV veered left, following the vehicle in front of him. Nasser’s voice cut through the cabin from the back seat.
