Crossing Paths

chapter 8

Jessabelle found Abdullah very romantic and charming but little did she know that he was something more than just an enthusiastic romantic Egyptian prince. Abdullah was no ordinary man but a somewhat eccentric guy of experience. Abdullah was in his late 40s and had been through things Jessabelle wouldn’t imagine, even in her wildest dreams.

Abdullah Shiekh belonged to a mafia and controlled all of Cairo. He had every politician in his pocket, a reason why he lived this long enough. That didn’t mean his life was free of threat. Abdullah lived a life that could slip away at any moment. For Abdullah, there was no tomorrow. He knew his life could end at any moment.

Belonging to slums in Cairo, Abdullah spent his childhood days in Ezbet El Haggana. From the day he was born, he called a small cubicle room where a family of six lived under a thin sheet of a roof with holes in it. Abdullah had two brothers and three sisters, and he was the oldest of them all. When he was 11 years old, his mother died during childbirth, and two days later, his youngest brother died too. But this torment wasn’t the end for Abdullah. His father used to work in Shipment, and one day, mysteriously, when Abdullah was 17, his father was killed. For eight days, Abdullah and his siblings waited for his father, but he didn’t return. He went where he worked only to find that his father, Muhammad Mostafa, never showed up for work.

On the 9th day of his disappearance, Abdullah was told that his father’s body was found on a dumpster not far from where he worked. He was missing seven fingers, and the remaining finger had no nails. His face was all smashed in, and his body was all bruised. Their life wasn’t easy. After losing his father, mother, and brother, it became hell. Sleeping hungry was something he did daily but watching his siblings do the same made him cry all night. The only difference was that there weren’t any tears to shed, as all he thought about was his father. Abdullah used to wash cars, but he changed his profession to his father's, fully knowing that this job was his father's doom. Abdullah wanted to know who killed his father so painfully.

He worked the same job as his father, loading and unloading goods, until one day, a colleague of his who was a close associate of his father told him to turn a blind eye to a container filled with drugs. It didn’t bother him what it carried, but it bought him closer to the reason his father died. Abdullah was good at handling illegal goods. He would always convince the customs that there was nothing fishy as he built good trust with the customs officers. With his work, the men whose cargo was shipped became impressed, and they invited him to their place, a mansion where the boss lived. The man who was behind everything and only the numbered and closest to him had seen him. No one knew his real name, but everyone called him Jazaar for his brutality. Apart from his closest associates, those who saw him at the moment of their death. He was called Jazaar because of his brutality; Jazaar was an Arabic word that meant “Butcher.” Anyone who crossed him would die and be killed by Jazaar, and he would do so by cutting them up while they were alive.

Abdullah knew it was Jazaar who killed his father, and he would do everything to get close to him. Abdullah had only one thing in his mind: revenge. Abdullah accepted poverty as part of his fate, but the murder of his father was an injustice, and he vowed to avenge him. Abdullah met him, the man behind everything, the man who had the whole of Cario in his pockets, the man who, when lifted a finger, the whole city would shut down. The government was after him, and many cases were built against him, but he was careful in every step, and Abdullah made him millions with his ways. The man was tall with a cunning thick mustache spreading across his cheeks and long hair. Just by looking at him, Abdullah knew no one would ever dare to cross him.

“Welcome, my boy, to my home.” Abdullah stood quietly as the man wearing a gold robe with a cigar on his right finger opened his arms and hugged him. “I have heard a lot about you, and you deserve the privilege to meet me. No one, not a single person apart from my very close associates, has met me. But I had to see you as your intellect impressed me. I know what you have been through. I knew your father, and if you stay by my side, you would never sleep hungry a day in your life, and more importantly, if you make me happy, you would never end up as your father.”

“Do you hold a grudge against me? For killing your father?”

“Do I hold a grudge against you? No, I do not hold any grudge against you. I don’t know the reasons for his death, but if he had known his place, things would’ve been better for us. He knew the price of crossing the line, yet he chose to do that, knowing damn well he had kids back home without a mother. He deliberately made us orphans. I do not hate my old man, but I do not think about him either. He made his choice, and we suffered the consequences, so I have no time to dwell upon the mistakes of my father. Revenge? I have no time for that because his death doesn’t concern me. I want to live a life of luxury, and I do not wish to spend a night on an empty stomach.”

“Attaboy.”

Abdullah gained Jazaars trust with their first meeting, and the two became close. With time Abdullah earned a reputation and became closer to him. For Jazaar, Abdullah was a trusted companion as, on many occasions, Abdullah escaped death for him. The close encounters made him more trustworthy in the eyes of Jazaar. He even took advice from him, but for Abdullah, there was only one thing on his mind, and that was revenge. Day and night, he plotted a perfect revenge for him, and he waited patiently for his moment.

Years later, when Abdullah was 29 years old, he finally got his chance. He waited as a Tarantula waits for its prey, and the more patient they are, the more likely the chances for success. Jazaar never married in his life and had no kids that he took any responsibility for, and on his birthday, he would throw a grand five-day-long party. It was Jazaar’s 65th birthday, and by this time, Abdullah was his most trusted henchman, and so came the day when he finally got what he always wanted.

Jazaar would make everyone party for five days straight, and during this time, everyone would stay at his mansion. He would make them party so much that every year 10-20 people would overdose at his parties. The last day of the party was when Abdullah decided to take his revenge as everyone was so high that they could barely even function properly. Bazaar was getting old, and too much partying made him lose his mind. Abdullah made his way, and one way to do this was by getting rid of Jazaar's other trusted henchmen. He would deliberately tell him lies and conspire against them, and one by one, Jazaar got rid of his other henchmen leaving Abdullah to be his only advisor.

Abdullah went to his room and found him lying on the floor with four hookers. He was almost unconscious and couldn’t even talk properly. Abdullah, one by one, lifted every unconscious hooker who had passed out and threw them out of the room on a sofa. When the two of them were alone, he picked Jazaar up and seated him in a big red velvet chair of his where Jazaar would usually sit.

“One hell of a party, huh?” Jazaar told Abdullah while sniffing cocaine.

“You know how to throw a party.”

“Do you know my real name?” Jazaar asked Abdullah with a speech that was hard to understand.

“No.”

“My name is Ayub. No last name. I was raised in an orphan house and adopted by this rich family. Later I killed them and, with their money and influence, I built myself this empire. All my life, I inflicted fear on others. It was necessary. Without fear, people would never obey you.”

“Ayub? It means ‘to return to God’. Yet you lived as if you were immortal. No wonder you never used your real name. You lived in denial. Listen, I have no time to talk about your philosophy or the terror you have inflicted on others. Your ramblings go over my head because you’re nothing more than a dog who barks…..” Abdullah pushed his chair back against the wall and leaned to put his left hand on Jazaars shoulder, and with his right hand, he took out a knife and carved open his torso, “do you think I respect you? Nothing you ever did in your life was admirable, but enough about what you did in this life. Tell me. How does It feel when someone cuts you?”

Bazaar was shocked by the betrayal and fell his chair going, crawling and whimpering, trying to reach the door.

“Where do you think you’re going? Don’t you remember all your trusted henchmen are dead? You ordered me to kill them, butcher them. Beyond that door are just hookers, but they won’t be of any help either because they’re passed out; I mean, everybody is.” Abdullah chuckled.

Abdullah picked Jazaar up and put his body on a big table which was nothing but cocaine. Abdullah cut all ten of Jazaars fingers, and as he was about to die, he told him, “All this was for my father. You killed a man who was worth nothing in the eyes of society, but he made my siblings happy he provided them with food and clothes, and you took that from them. Now here you are, an Ayub dying just because you killed a man who lived in the slums.”

Abdullah finally got his revenge after 12 years. He could’ve done that sooner, but he needed him to trust him just so he could see what getting betrayed feels like. Now that Abdullah was done with his revenge, he took over the empire Jazaar left and built his own.

Abdullah was now 48, but he wasn’t the same as Jazaar. The empire he built was just one he didn’t kill unnecessarily. When he killed, it was most painless.

After dropping Jessabelle off, Abdullah went on his way home. He was alone as he told his bodyguards to leave. He wanted some time alone as he reflected on his past and his meeting with Jessabelle.

It was 1 am. The streets were almost empty. Abdullah let the windows down of his Audi Q8. Abdullah thought about his failed marriage and not spending time with his seven kids. He distanced himself from his family for their good. As he knew his kids would be unsafe. His family was once attacked while they were out dining. Luckily, they were safe, but Abdullah was shot in the leg.

As Abdullah was reflecting on his thoughts, someone open-fired at his car from behind. He ducked, and his car hit the pavement. Abdullah didn’t have any weapons on him, but there was a 9 mm pistol in his glove compartment he grabbed the gun and got out of the car from the passenger’s seat, and took cover behind the car. Abdullah peaked from the hood of the car to see how many were there, and as he peaked, he found cars a mile back and four guys behind it with rifles shooting at him. Abdullah knew that he had only 12 rounds with him. Every shot he would take must count. With the first two shots, he took, he killed two of the guys. The two guys kept firing at him, giving him no chance to even look. One of the bullets hit Abdullah's left shoulder, which led him to bleed profusely and in immense pain. Abdullah took some shots at them but to no avail. The bullets on his shoulder affected his accuracy.

Many times before, he had been part of shootouts, but he always managed to survive. Abdullah was a gambler and every moment of his life was rare. This was another gamble on whether he would make it out alive or not, something he did not know of. Whenever in a situation of life and death, Abdullah would let go of his fear of death and keep calm. He wouldn’t try and negotiate. He always aimed to win the situation keeping in mind death was a possibility.

Even having control of the city, there were many rebels. Everyone was waiting for an opportunity to overthrow him. For those reasons, he never trusted anyone because he knew this business better than Jazaar and better than anyone else. Abdullah took out the revolver to check it only to find there were only four bullets left. With his injury, his probability of accuracy was below 10 percent. He did what he was best at. Patiently waited for the perfect moment. He knew they would come close to killing him.

Abdullah closed his eyes and kissed the gun. He decided that if he made it out alive today, he would take Jessabelle out. He decided he would build a relationship of love with Jessabelle. He took a deep breath and lay down on his back. He pointed his gun at the trunk of the car. He knew that one would sneak up on him from the trunk and the other from the hood. There was one thing he took into consideration. One of the guys was shot in his legs and had difficulty walking. From under the car, he saw already that the one with a fine leg was coming from the trunk side. Abdullah anticipated that the injured would fall back if his partner was shot. As anticipated, the guy from the trunk showed up, and as soon as he did, he shot him in the middle of his eyes in a matter of a second. With three bullets left, he only had one guy.

“Who sent you?”

“The guy who knew that is dead.”

“Do you not value your life?”

“Are you gonna bargain?”

“No. I will kill you. I have three bullets left. I know that you will die by my hands. The question is, which bullet? I can kill you with the first of the three, or I can kill you with the third. I assure you that will be f*****g painful. You are already shot. Taking two more bullets before you die will be a glimpse of hell before hell.”

“You’re the one to talk. You’ve been shot yourself. We are in the same rathole.”

“No. I’ve been shot many times before. More importantly, I ain’t a rookie like you,” Abdullah took a shot at his ankle from beneath his car. The man fell to the ground screaming in pain. Abdullah stood up and walked to him, still careful, and a gun pointed at him. The man was so much in pain that he didn’t even have the energy to pick his rifle up. Slowly Abdullah walked to him and put his foot on the rifle, and said, “Didn’t you know one-bullet death is better than agonizing three-bullet death?”

“Please, just kill me. I beg you,” The man screamed, crying in pain, “It was Yasir, your arms supplier. He was the one who sent us.”

“I know. I asked you back then because I was testing how confident you were.”

Abdullah put a bullet in his head, showing him mercy. At this point, Abdullah bled so much that he fell to the ground. He reached into his pocket and took out his phone, and called his bodyguards.

“Hey, come pick me up. I’ve been shot. No. It’s been taken care of just pick me up. You’ll see my car.”

Within five minutes, he was home and being operated on by the home surgeon. Abdullah's whole body had bullet wounds, but his biggest wound yet was a scar on his torso he got when he fought with a Russian guy who cut him with a machete. Every scar reflected his near-death experience. While he was being operated on, he kept thinking about Jessabelle and what would be the next move with her. He didn’t give a single thought about the arms dealer who attempted his life, only Jessabelle.

“Pass me my phone,” Abdullah ordered his bodyguard, who was present in his room where the operation was conducted. He looked for Jessabelle’s number and called her.

“Hey, it’s me, Abdullah. How are you?”

“I’m good. You’re calling unusually late. We just met a few hours ago,” Jessabelle softly replied.

“My apologies. I was calling in to ask if you would be free next Saturday. I would love to take you out officially on a date,” Abdullah asked her but with a grunting voice.

Jessabelle paused for a minute and thought about the sudden call. They agreed to meet again, but she didn’t think he would ask her out on a date.

“You sound as if you are in pain. Are you alright?”

“Don’t worry about that. I fell a small flight of stairs. I’ll be all right. So, what do you say? Should I pick you up on Saturday?”

“Sure, that sounds lovely.”

“Alright then. I’ll pick you up at 8.”

After asking her out on a date, he told his bodyguard to take care of the man behind the assassination attempt.

Abdullah thought heavily about the scenario he lived with. The constant threat on his life and not knowing what’s in store for tomorrow. His decision to leave his family was due to his lifestyle and now he fell for Jessabelle but living with her and putting her life in danger would be an unjust and selfish act. He thought about telling her everything, but he feared that it would scare Jessabelle away. Abdullah didn’t want to scare her away, but also, he didn’t want to lie to her. He wanted her to have a choice to live with a gangster, a life where tomorrow wasn’t promised. Abdullah thought about it, but in the end, he only decided not to tell her about his life. He wanted some more time.

After dreading for days, the day he would meet Jessabelle finally came. Abdullah took his shower, cleaning all his scars and wearing a black suit on his war-torn magisterial body. At 8:00, Abdullah knocked on Jessabelle’s door. He was received by a woman wearing a red silk dress. The moment Abdullah set eyes on her, he held his breath. Wearing a red rose silk dress, Jessabelle blessed Abdullah's eyes. Never in his life had he seen something as beautiful as her. “You look lovely,” Abdullah said softly, gazing into Jessabelle’s eyes.

“Thanks, but don’t you think it’s a little too much?”

“No, it’s perfect. Just perfect.” Abdullah walked Jessabelle to his car and drove her to a romantic, luxurious restaurant. As the two sat down, the two talked about Jessabelle’s favorite movies; Jessabelle told him about her childhood. She told him all about her fights with Joey, and the two laughed. After dining at the restaurant, Abdullah dropped her off and walked her to her penthouse.

“Thanks for dinner. I had a wonderful time with you,” Jessabelle spoke with gratitude for Abdullah. Jessabelle, who was feeling down for so long, found true comfort in him.

“My pleasure,” Abdullah replied and paused for a while. “Listen, I wanted to tell you something,” Abdullah said in a concerned manner. “I have fallen for you,” Abdullah told Jessabelle in agony, unable to contain his feelings. Jessabelle looked at him in shock. The calm and composed Abdullah looked vulnerable. Jessabelle didn’t even flinch but stared in shock as it was something she never expected to come out of a man like Abdullah.

“But we just met. You don’t even know me. How can you fall in love with me so quickly?” Jessabelle asked in confusion. “I fell in love with you the minute I laid my eyes on you at that café. I felt something that day that I had never experienced before. I do not fear death, but that was the first time I did. Looking at you, I wanted to live a long life with you. I don’t care if we just met, and I don’t care if I don’t know you, as I have the rest of my life to figure that out,” Abdullah said achingly. He reached out his hand at Jessabelle. “Hold my hand and tell me that you feel the same way for me. Let’s not waste any time.”

Jessabelle was lost for words and confused. She felt a deep connection with Abdullah but hesitated. She was already betrayed by Ali once, and she didn’t want all of that to repeat. “Yes,” she said, looking down, “I do feel the same, but I cannot.”

“Why not?”

“I didn’t tell you this before, but I came here to meet someone. A guy I met online, but I was betrayed. He catfished me, and I left him. The point is that I came from America, leaving my job to hook up with a guy I met online, and look at me now. I don’t want to repeat all that.”

“I am not that guy. I’ll tell you everything about myself, and once you will know who I am, I will let you decide whether you want to stay with me or not. I assure you one thing. I will always protect you. No matter what, I will take care of you. Just accept me once,” Abdullah desperately told her, “I have never been this vulnerable, but I don’t mind it at all. You made me feel something I never felt before. Every agony I feel is worth it.”

Jessabelle looked at Abdullah without saying anything, trying her best to resist agreeing with Abdullah. She liked him. She felt protected in his presence, and she wanted his honesty. They both looked at each other miserably, not uttering a single word but holding themselves back.

Unable to control himself, Abdullah leaned forward and kissed Jessabelle. Clueless, Jessabelle finally gave in and let him take control. Breathing heavily, both rushed inside. “Come, live with me,” Abdullah requested, panting and holding her. “Jessabelle looked into his eyes and then looked at his lips and replied softly, “I will.”