BY YOUR SIDE

5

CHAPTER 5

ZAYED

He leads her to his presidential suite, his hand never leaving hers. The atmosphere in the suite is markedly different from the tense air in her room. Here, despite the lingering undercurrent of danger, there is a sense of his personal space, his authority.

The opulent surroundings, the dark wood and plush furnishings, feel both secure and intimate.

Ingrid remains close to him, her earlier sobs having subsided into quiet tremors. She looks around the spacious living area, her eyes still wide with the lingering shock of the attempted attack. She feels safer in his presence, a strange sense of security amidst the continued threat.

He feels a heavy weight of guilt settling in his chest. He brought her into this world, albeit unintentionally, and now her life is in danger because of it. The fact that someone managed to breach his security and reach her fills him with a cold fury. He promised to protect her, and tonight, he failed.

The image of the shadowy figure looming over her sleeping form replays in his mind, fueling his resolve to find the perpetrator.

He is also aware that this attack could signify a larger problem. Are their enemies onto them? Did the Rodriguez cartel somehow trace Ingrid back to him? The thought sends a ripple of unease through him. His carefully constructed plans for a swift departure might be unraveling.

He leads Ingrid to one of the bedrooms in the suite, a spacious room with a large bed covered in soft, dark linens. "You will sleep here tonight," he says, his voice low and gentle. "I will be in the other room, but my men are just outside. You are safe here."

Ingrid looks at the bed, then back at him, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. She is still processing the events of the night, the terror of the attack mingling with the unfamiliar feeling of being under his direct protection.

He watches her, sensing her hesitation. He wants to offer her more comfort, but words seem inadequate. He feels a strange protectiveness towards her, an unexpected connection forged in the crucible of danger.

"I will find out who did this, Ingrid," he says, his gaze intense. "I swear to you. No one will hurt you again."

He steps back, giving her space. The silence in the room is thick with unspoken emotions and the lingering threat that hangs over them. He wants to stay, to reassure her, but he knows his presence might make her more uneasy.

"Try to get some rest," he says softly. "I will be nearby." He turns and leaves the room, closing the door gently behind him, leaving Ingrid alone with her fear and the unsettling presence of her protector just a room away.

*

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*

*

Karim, his face a mask of fury, dials Elias's number. "What the actual f**k was that?" he hisses into the phone, his voice barely controlled. "How could you mess up something so simple?"

Elias's voice, laced with a nervous tremor, comes through the speaker. "Sir, time was not on my side. I did not anticipate Zara's swift reaction. She was back inside quicker than expected."

Karim fumes, pacing the corridors. "You better have been wearing a mask and gloves, Elias. No trace. You need to disappear for a while. I will cook a story to explain your absence." He ends the call abruptly, just as he sees Zayed approaching from the direction of his own suite.

"How is Ingrid doing?" Karim asks, forcing a look of concern into his voice.

"She is frightened, understandably so," Zayed replies, his gaze distant. "But she will be fine."

"Zayed," Karim says, his tone serious. "I do not like the attachment you are forming with this girl. It is going to create problems for us in the future. You need to maintain focus."

"Worry about more pressing issues, Karim," Zayed retorts, his voice sharp with irritation. "Like finding out who the hell tried to attack her in a supposedly secure hotel." He rubs the bridge of his nose, a gesture of frustration. "We need to change our plans. The shipment needs to be moved, and we are leaving Cape Town tomorrow."

"And what is going to happen to your new friend, Ingrid?" Karim asks, his eyes narrowed with suspicion.

Zayed fixes his brother with a cold stare. "Let me worry about Ingrid. You focus on the logistics of our departure." He announces, his voice weary, "I need to rest. It has been a long day."

As Zayed turns to walk back to his suite, Karim calls after him, his voice laced with a warning. "Do not f**k that cleaner, Zayed! You will create more unwanted attention than we already have!"

Without turning around, Zayed flips his middle finger off, then disappears back into his suite, the door closing firmly behind him.

INGRID

The attempted break-in leaves her feeling utterly exposed and deeply unsafe, even within the luxurious confines of Zayed's suite.

A wave of regret washes over her, sharp and bitter. Why did she go to the back of the club that night for a cigarette? It was a habit she knew she should quit, a moment of weakness that has now irrevocably altered the course of her life.

She should have stayed inside, she should have turned away quickly and pretend not to see anything, run away immediately. Hindsight offers a cruel clarity, highlighting all the paths not taken, all the choices that might have spared her this terrifying ordeal.

Sleep eludes her grasp. How can she find rest when the image of a stranger's hand reaching for her throat replays endlessly in her mind? She tosses and turns in the unfamiliar bed, the soft sheets doing little to calm the persistent chill that grips her.

Her body trembles intermittently, a physical manifestation of her inner turmoil. The need for nicotine is overwhelming, she has lost count of the number of cigarettes she has smoked in the past few minutes, the acrid smell filling the otherwise pristine air of the room.

A faint murmur of voices drifts from the other side of the suite, the low voice of Zayed speaking on the phone in his native language. A sliver of relief cuts through her anxiety, a small comfort in knowing he is back, that she is not entirely alone in this strange and dangerous place.

She tries to close her eyes, willing herself into oblivion, but sleep remains a distant, unattainable shore. The hushed tones of Zayed's conversation continue, a low, rhythmic hum that somehow underscores her own wakefulness.

Without conscious thought, driven by a desperate need for reassurance or perhaps simply an inability to bear the solitude any longer, she throws back the covers, gets out of bed, opens the door connecting their rooms, and walks towards the sound of his voice.

Zayed ends his phone conversation and turns to see her standing in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the dim light from her room. "I thought you would be asleep by now," he says softly, his gaze gentle.

She rubs her palms together nervously. "I cannot sleep," she admits, her voice barely a whisper.

He is already dressed in comfortable pajamas, a dark silk set. "Would you like to sleep in here?" he asks, his eyes meeting hers with a question. She does not hesitate, a silent nod to her immediate response.

He walks towards the large bed, removing the pillows and making space for her on one side. She climbs in quickly, seeking the perceived safety of his presence. "I am just going to brush my teeth and finish a quick call," he tells her, his voice reassuring. "I will be right back."

"Okay," she replies, her gaze fixed on him as he disappears into the en-suite bathroom. Once he is gone, her heart begins to pound in her chest. The scent of him, his cologne lingering on the pillows beside her, fills her senses.

A wave of anxiety washes over her. What is she doing here, in the bed of the man who has upended her life? Why does she feel this strange sense of trust, this pull towards him despite the danger he represents?

Her thoughts are interrupted as Zayed returns, the faint scent of toothpaste now mingling with his cologne. He slides into the other side of the bed and lies down, turning to look at her. "Come closer," he says softly, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "I do not bite."

Hesitantly, she obeys, inching closer to him. Her heart beats so forcefully she fears it might leap from her chest. He looks at her, his gaze steady and surprisingly tender. "We are leaving tomorrow," he tells her, his voice low.