Twisted (Never After #4)(28)

She purses her lips before sighing. “I’ll go make you some tea to settle your stomach. You,” she says, turning to me. “Don’t do anything to raise his blood pressure, you understand? He needs rest.”

I nod curtly.

She quirks a brow before finally spinning around and leaving us alone.

I walk across the room and grab one of the chairs sitting in front of his desk, dragging it until it’s placed by the couch, and then sit down, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees.

“Shaina’s overprotective,” he complains.

“She’s doing her job,” I reply, the same reassurance I just gave myself.

He scoffs. “I can work just fine.”

I shoot forward when he moves, placing a hand on his back and propping up the pillows behind him.

“It’s Sunday,” I say, urging him back down. “And nothing I have to tell you is more important than you getting the rest you need.”

He shakes his head, a cough surging through his throat, although he tries to smother it. “I don’t have time for this. There’s someone coming for dinner tonight to meet Yasmin.”

Leaning forward in my seat, I lower my voice. “I hate to be the one to tell you this, old man, but…you don’t have time left in general.”

Ali laughs. “You’re a prick.”

I chuckle as I lean back in my seat. “The point is, you should save your energy for things that matter.”

The amusement drops from his face, and he twists to meet my gaze. “This is important, Julian. I want to know Yasmin is taken care of, by a man who won’t tarnish our name and everything I’m leaving behind.”

I blow out a breath, running a hand over my hair, a little taken aback that he’s stating it so plainly. That he doesn’t even care how much it might burn that he isn’t leaving anything for me. “Okay… so I’ll go for you.”

Ali laughs, and my fingers flex to keep from balling into fists.

“What’s so funny about that?” I ask. “Who better to make sure someone won’t tarnish what you’ve built?” I lean in. “We both know I keep Sultans running smooth, Ali. You can trust me with your daughter the same way you trust me with your diamonds.”

Ali opens and closes his mouth a few times before finally nodding his agreement. “His name is Alexander Sokolov.”

“Russian?”

He nods.

“Are you sure that’s smart?”

I don’t need to elaborate, because we both know what I mean. Russia is our biggest competitor in the diamond trade and the one country where we haven’t gained a stronghold. I’m sure Ali is attempting to kill two birds with one stone here, aligning his daughter with a husband who can get Sultans in the door finally and be knowledgeable about the business enough to take over all the shares.

And that’s unacceptable to me.

“Make sure she gives him a fair chance,” Ali says. “I want them to hit it off, Julian. He’s a good match for her. And a good match for Sultans.”

Smiling, I rest a foot over the opposite knee. “I promise, Ali. I’ll make sure she knows exactly what kind of man he is.”





Chapter 11





Yasmin





Aidan: Can I see you tonight?





It’s the first I’ve heard from him since yesterday afternoon when he went to meet with Julian. I can’t be mad at him for it, since then I’d be a hypocrite, so this is just something like karmic retribution. But it does sting to know that he agreed to go somewhere and do something that affects us both without talking to me.

Did he tell his mother first?

Me: Yes!! I have dinner with my father, but I can sneak away when I get back.





Chewing on my lip, I debate telling him that it’s with a suitor or that Julian is now trying to get me involved in a fake engagement with him for whatever reason, but I hold back, figuring that I can just let him know once we’re together. Things like this usually go over better in person anyway.

Aidan: I’ll be waiting, princess. I love you. Have a good dinner with your dad.





Groaning, the guilt surges like it always does these days whenever I have something I’m not telling Aidan.

“What the hell kind of noise was that?” Riya asks, laughing from where she’s sprawled in the middle of my four-poster bed, flipping through a magazine.

“I don’t know what to do.” I sigh, pressing my finger to the side of my eye and running kohl-black eyeliner against my lid.

Riya makes a humming noise, the judgment pouring through her vocal cords and tugging at me from across the room.

I pause, my hand halting as I glance at her from my vanity mirror. “What?”

She licks her finger before flipping a page in the magazine. “Nothing.”

My chest smarts. “That’s so fucking annoying, you know that, right?”

She cackles, dropping the magazine entirely and sitting up in the middle of the mattress. “Excuse me, bitch? Forgive me for trying to spare your hurt feelings. Trust and believe you won’t like what I’ve got to say.”

I smirk as I finish the winged eyeliner, moving on to grab mascara. “When has that ever stopped you before?”