Chapter Sixteen
Fin
‘Sweetheart.’
Later Sunday evening, Soraya calls.
‘Raya, how’ve you been?’
‘I’m fabulous, darling, having spent the last two days with my mother in Tehran.’ Her tone conveys what her words don’t. Born in Singapore and raised in Dubai, Soraya is the only child of a very wealthy Iranian woman, who in turn, is the widow of a very wealthy Iranian man. I gather they both consider themselves fortunate in this regard.
‘How many suitors did she trot out this time?’ Raya’s mother is also a woman desperate for grandchildren to spoil.
‘None this time, especially after my last visit. I told her if she kept playing those games I wouldn’t return at all.’
I laugh, imagining her mother’s face even as I silently acknowledge she’ll have some other angle to play. Raya’s mother is like a dog with a bone in her quest to find her only daughter a husband.
‘On the contrary, she spent most of my visit in bed, thrashing about and bemoaning the fact that she’d be dead and gone before I everblessedher with grandchildren.’
‘Oh, man. I hate to think what she’ll have up her sleeve next. Maybe you should tell her you’re a lesbian.’
With a protracted sigh, she tells me she’s already done that. ‘She said there’s no word for a woman who desires another woman in our native tongue, and I told her that hadn’t stoppedamme Bahar. My aunt.’
‘Ouch. An inadvertent outing?’
‘Not at all. The family choses to ignore. Well, it was worth a shot,’ she says, sighing. ‘But speaking of shootings, how close were you to committing violence yesterday?’
‘Ivy told you.’
‘In an email.’ There’s an awkward pause where we both silently acknowledge their joint handling of this. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t there to tell you in person like I’d hoped to be.’
‘I don’t like that you were both willing not to tell me indefinitely.’ I feel my shoulders rise along with a lick of anger. It’s there. Like a budding flame.
‘Is there an easy way to tell the one you love that her husband, the man she’d devoted several years to, was worth less than shit on her shoe?’
Soraya rarely curses; in this case I think it’s well warranted.
‘It was confirmation,’ I say quietly. I hate admitting this to anyone, but it’s time I face facts. I ignored the signs and I’ve no one to blame but myself. ‘I still can’t pretend I’m comfortable you both hid this from me.’
‘You need to put yourself in my shoes. When I found these... these abominations, my first instinct was to tell you. You are my friend above all things, and friends deserve honesty. But you weren’t well, so in Ivy I had to trust.’
My head hits the back of the sofa. Have I been such a basket case? Before the thought is fully formed, I already know.
‘I’m over it all.’
Soraya’s melodious laughter floats over the line. ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned?’
‘Probably more apathy than fury, if I’m honest.’
‘While we’re on the topic of honesty, I need to tell you some tabloid TV show has been in contact with the office.’
‘TV show?’ My heart rate spikes.
‘Don’t worry—they were just sniffing around. Inevitable, I’m afraid. I’m told there are several rich families in East Asia who are short some millions following dealings with Marcus. And, of course, there’s Sheikh Ahmed. I do believe there would be a sizable queue to watch Marcus’ demise, were he not already dead.’
This isn’t news. Not exactly. She’s hinted as much before, though the confirmation makes me feel ill. This is the reason I was almost arrested; Marcus made me partner in his business without telling me, then forged my signature on several fraudulent transactions. It was only because of Soraya’s quick arrangements that I was able to leave the country on her family’s jet.
‘I’d be at the front,’ I whisper. ‘I dread to think what would’ve happened if you hadn’t gotten me out.’
