PROLOGUE

491 Words
* * * Her shayla fluttered in the wind but she held it close to her face. The night was warm and she could see the night sky reflected on the gently swaying sea. She walked down the wooden ramp further into the dock past numerous luxurious yachts, searching for the one meant for her. Finally she spotted a yacht that had a lone light lit inside, untied and engine running getting ready for a long travel. She hurried down and stepped on the ramp that connected the dock to the deck of the yacht awaiting her. She looked up at the full moon and sent a quick prayer. Oh God, let this be the last time I set foot in this land for a long while. She walked further into the yacht and slid the glass door open noiselessly before slipping in. She looked around the plush interior of the luxury yacht. ‘Laylah?’ She called out in a small voice, her heart in her throat. She did not know what she would do if she couldn’t find anyone in the ship. Her heart was broken enough as it is. Footsteps hurried from inside and she held her breath in anticipation. ‘Zahra! You came!’ Laylah grinned wide and crashed her short frame into her open arms. Tears swam in her eyes at the situation she feared wouldn’t be possible. She held her best friend closer. ‘When you were late I-I thought… God, I thought…’ Laylah’s voice broke. ‘Shh. I am here now.’ She rubbed off the lone tear that rolled down Laylah’s cheeks with a smile. ‘Let’s not waste any more time.’ A tall man standing a little away from them caught her gaze. He wore a simple white shirt and slacks, his brown hair slicked back elegantly. She offered him a warm smile filled with gratitude. He hung his head in respect. ‘Raul?’ She asked the man. ‘Yes, I am Raul Aramitz. I will be the captain of this ship till we reach our destination.’ He replied with heavy French accent marring his English. ‘Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, Raul. I am truly at your debt.’ The French spy that she had come to know through written letters for the past six months said nothing in return. He would have if they had any time to spare; to deny any gratitude and remind her of how she saved his life. But they were, essentially, running for their lives. And time was of great importance. ‘Shall we leave, Princess Zahra?’ She looked out to the twinkling city through the window; the tall skyscrapers that touched the clouds were far away yet to her it felt too close. ‘Yes, Raul. Let us.’ * * *
Free reading for new users
Scan code to download app
Facebookexpand_more
  • author-avatar
    Writer
  • chap_listContents
  • likeADD