Page 78 of Twisted (Never After)
I don’t bother to tell her that Sultans is so much more than what it appears to the public. If I admit that out loud, then I have to admit my father isalsoa criminal and that both Julian and my father are just extremely good at hiding their nefarious deeds behind smiles and retail chains.
Nausea churns in my gut, remembering just who it is I’m dealing with in Julian and hating myself for how easily I forget when I’m around him. I’ve let him touch me, kiss me. I almost let himfuckme.
“Ugh, he’s definitely trying to manipulate me. And I’m just like…a fucking helpless girl unable to do anything but bow to his demands and pretend that I’m okay with what’s happening.” I drop my head in my arms. “It makes me feel weak.”
Riya sighs and reaches across the table, patting my forearm.
“You’re not weak, baby girl. You’re smart.” I roll my head to the side and stare at her.
Her eyes flick back to Razul again and then to me, her voice lowering. “I talked to Aidan.”
This gets my attention and I perk back up, my hands grabbing hers. “You’re kidding.”
She clicks her tongue. “Thought I’d call him up just to see if he answered, you know? Give him a piece of my mind.”
“Okay.” I nod, waiting for her to elaborate and ignoring the way it stings that he talked to her but won’t even respond to me. “And?”
“We talked for a few minutes, and I told him that you were only doing what you had to. And he’s out there, trying to find that lamp or whatever, so he’s just been busy.”
“Oh. Good.” My stomach sours.
She winces like she’s expecting me to fall apart right in front of her eyes, but surprisingly, even though knowing I’m not a prioritydoeshurt, it doesn’t sting quite as bad as I expected. It’s a dull ache in my chest, not a sledgehammer to my heart. Although I’m not sure why he’d be so interested in finding the lamp still if I’m already married to someone else. Does he think he can still convince my father that he’s the better choice?
“Hey, that lost lamp business is kind of crazy, huh?” she says, changing the conversation as she takes a sip of her drink.
“I don’t really know much about it.” My eyes flick up to her and I tilt my head. “In fact, how doyou?”
“Aidan said it’s worth, like, a billion dollars.” She whistles. “Imagine what someone could do with that. No wonder your dad wants it.”
My teeth sink into my lip. “Honestly, Riy, I couldn’t care less about the stupid lamp. It doesn’t even matter anymore. It’s not like Aidan can bring it back and we ride off into the sunset together. It’s too late.”
She nods. “True. There’s still hope though. I found a guy, remember?”
I lean forward, my stomach flipping like I’m on a roller coaster. “Yeah. I was just afraid to ask.”
Her eyes flick to Razul one more time. “You sure he can’t hear us?”
I glance behind me and then back to her, shrugging.
“I got you a burner phone and programmed his number into it. His name’s Randy Gazim. He’s a lawyer right smack-dab in the center of New York City. He specializes in nasty divorces, and heclaimsto not give a shit about Julian Faraci or the power he has.” She takes the linen napkin on the table and places it in her lap before wrapping it around something and sliding it back. “I figured you could try to text Aidan on here too, just in case you have extra eyes on your stuff or, you know, we could talk without worrying about who might look at your real phone.”
My hand shoots out and I grip the napkin, feeling a lumpy object underneath. I drag it toward me and slip it into my purse, hoping that Razul didn’t see. My chest warms.
She lifts a shoulder. “Listen, Aidan’s really pissed, Yas. He’s hurt, you know? But I told him you were trying to find a way out. And he…he said he hasn’t lost faith.” She nods toward the phone. “Text him. See what he has to say.”
My heart catapults through my chest and slams against my ribs as I nod. “Thanks, Riya.”
After brunch is over and I’m back in the safety of my room, I plan on doing just that.
Chapter27
Julian
Razul: All is fine. She’s with her friend. Will text when we’re on our way home.
Me: Woman?
Razul: Yes.
