His expression tightens as he nods and heads back into the changing room to switch into his day clothes.
“Might I recommend you meet somewhere private in case the tension decides to snap?” Samirah teases.
“No tension will be snapping. We’re adults who can handle being alone in a room together. I’ll have lunch sent to my office. Can you tell him to meet me there?”
She rolls her eyes and waves me off. “God, you’re no fun. Mark my words, Zahra, you can’t keep depriving yourself of your needs forever. One day, you’re going to take what you want. Not because it’s for the good of your family or the good of the Persian Empire, but because it’s whatyouneed and I can’t wait to see it.”
24
DECLAN
The last time I was in Zahra’s office, I’d be willing to bet she wanted me dead. Now, we’re sitting together on the couch, with her curled up in a ball under a blanket while she uses chopsticks to eat dumplings. A weird sense of pride fills my chest, knowing I taught her how to do something she’d always wanted to try. I know I have no right to claim parts of her, but I found myself desperate to learn more about the Zahra hidden underneath.
“So, it sounds like we could have some promising leads soon?” I nod to her laptop set on the table.
“I think so. I have an algorithm set up that will populate photos of anyone with tattoos similar to the vulture ones we’ve seen. There’s probably going to be a lot of false positives but at least it's a start. We didn’t have much luck with the Boston cams, so I decided to expand the search to all the cities where we have big warehouses for trades. It took a bit longer than I wanted to hack into all the city cameras in New York, Chicago, and Seattle?—”
“It took you like a week to do allthat,” I exclaim. “I can barely figure out how to use Bluetooth to connect my phone to my smart TV.”
Zahra snorts. “Well, you’re not known for being a hacker. I am. And while a week isn’t too long, I know if my head was in a better space, I would’ve been faster.”
“Are you still experiencing symptoms from your concussion?” My eyebrows knit together as my hand twitches to touch her, but I control the impulse.
“No. I wasn't referring to that. My mind’s just been all over the place. Thinking about the group that’s set out to kill me. Your uncle. The wedding….” She leans her head on the back of the couch and closes her eyes. “Life felt so much simpler when our fathers were still alive. Now nothing makes sense anymore.”
My lips turn into a frown, knowing that some of her current distress is caused by me and my family, and I can’t do anything about it. Or, really, I’m too selfish to do anything. I could probably convince her to break off the engagement, plot to find another way to stop my uncle…but I don’t want to. I like having her around me. I like how she always managed to understand me and the struggles I was going through. How the more time we spent together, the more our conversations shifted from going over business details to recalling stories of our childhood and laughing about the dumb shit we used to get into. Every hour we spend together feels entirely too short, and I find myself relishing the idea of us living together soon. Of getting to spend even more time together.
I don’t know what it means to feel this way. Or maybe I do but I don’t want to speak it into existence. The moment that I do, it could change things forever. So instead, I take the small bits of her she’s willing to give me. Lunches, dinners, and pretending to be a happy, engaged couple in public. While my uncle knows his power is temporary, he isn’t aware of themarriage stipulation that will put an end to his reign. Both of our lawyers have discussed how it's in our best interests for everyone to think this relationship is real, though a few of our loved ones know better.
“I know the feeling. A year ago, I thought I knew everything; now it feels like I know nothing.” I reach over and take her hand into mine, squeezing it.
“Glad to know I’m not the only one who feels like a headless chicken.” She smiles, keeping our hands entwined. “I’m glad I can talk to you about this.”
“Even though a few months ago you wanted me dead?” I tease. Admittedly, that fact should upset me more than it does, but I suppose you become desensitized to that sort of thing when you grow up in the mafia. Everyone either wants to kill you or take something from you.
She winces. “Yes. Even though a few months ago, I jumped the gun and blamed you for something that wasn’t your fault. Sorry you had to take a bullet for me to realize how wrong I was.”
“No apologies needed. I’d take a bullet for you any day. Without hesitation.” The weight of my promise shifts the temperature of the room, and suddenly sitting a few feet away on the couch feels like we are practically on top of each other. I clear that thought from my head, knowing better than to go there. Reaching over for my jacket, I think of a distraction. “I actually have something for you.”
“For me?” She leans closer, intrigued.
“I was hoping these would be ready for you sooner, but the jeweler took a while to ensure they were all in your size.” I place the box in front of her, lifting the lid to reveal five different engagement rings. “Things have been moving so fast, we haven’t really had a chance to talk about what you may like so I figured I’d give you a rangeof options.”
Her jaw drops open. “Declan, these are stunning. I-I don’t know what to say.”
“Just take your time. If you don’t like any of these, I can also have some more shipped over for you to try on.” Though there was one ring in the batch I secretly hoped she would be drawn to.
Zahra’s fingers brush against mine as she takes the box from my hand, trying on ring after ring. She starts with the most expensive of the bunch, an emerald cut twenty-carat diamond worth just over five million, and ends with the one that is no doubt the least flashy of the bunch but carries the most meaning to me. She raises the final ring, taking in the intricate design of leaves on the band that come together into the shape of a flower, where a round diamond sits.
Her eyes glisten as she shuts the box and holds the floral ring in her hand. “This one. This one’s mine.”
“That was my mother’s.” I have no doubt I probably look insane with how wide I’m smiling.
Zahra shakes her head, placing the ring into my hand immediately. “Declan, it’s stunning. But I can’t take this from you, it's too much?—”
“No. It’s not…”
“Declan…” she protests.
