My arms tightened around her body, breathing in her warm vanilla scent. “Emma, I need to ask you about something,” I whispered, pulling away to look at her face.

Her eyes were gleaming with tears but she nodded, wanting for me to continue.

“That night,” I started, running the pad of my thumb over her jaw, “When we slept together in my suite, I came back because I couldn’t replace my wedding ring.”

Her expression remained passive.

“I wanted to tell you that I was not having an affair and that Olivia is—”

“Shh, I know, Cillian.” She offered me a small smile. “I was pretty mad when I found it, but then the drug made me unconscious. I’m sorry I don’t have it with me anymore.”

I heard the door open downstairs and knew she had arrived. “She’s here.” I pulled away, squeezing Emma’s hand.

“She knows the passcode of your house?” she asked, following me downstairs.

I looked over my shoulder and shrugged. “I trust her.”

“And you should.” I smiled seeing Elena in my house. She was tall, wearing her long blond hair in a ponytail, shirt, and pants. No one would guess that she was a Princess, Sheikha of Azmia, or my boss. Her sharp green eyes softened as they fell on me and I went to hug her, “You look bigger than the last time I saw you, Cillian.”

“You saw me last month on a video meeting, Elena,” I deadpanned and introduced her. “Emma, this is Elena, my boss, and Elena, this is Emma.”

Emma’s chin was high, and she did a little nod at her. I frowned at her silence—

“Hello, hello, hello.” My body froze hearing his voice as he strolled in, waving at me, “It’s so nice of you to invite me too, Candy.”

“Zayed, you know his name is Cillian,” Elena rubbed her forehead.

Zayed Al-Fasih was the Sheikh of Azmia, one of the richest and most powerful Mid-Eastern countries, and he was, unfortunately, Elena’s husband. Definitely worse than her during a fight, but her total opposite. If Elena was ice, then he was fire. She always complained why she married him despite being childhood friends to lovers turned enemies to lovers (it’s complicated), but her voice was soft whenever she talked about him.

And even now, I didn’t miss the small glare he shot my way, as if he didn’t want anyone near his wife. “You have a great house, Cillian… and you, little doll, must be Emma!”

Emma scowled at him and looked at Elena. “Don’t tell me he’s your husband.”

“Indeed, I am, darling.” Zayed winked at her, a dimple poking his annoying cheek as he grinned. “If you were older and had a kink of stabbing me, then I’d have convinced myself to marry you.”

Emma raked her eyes over him, and I clenched my hand into a fist. Thankfully, she rolled her eyes and muttered, “Ew.”

Ouch!” Zayed covered his heart and looked at us. “She can definitely stab people with that attitude. I think I lost twenty years of my age.”

“Behave. Please,” Elena said, walking past him, and I followed her, ignoring the Sheikh. I had heard about him, how he helped Elena saving every royal and their friends and family all those years ago when their Golden Palace fell. Even though he seemed goofy and a downright prick in the ass, he was wicked.

“So, let’s start from the beginning,” I said once all of us were settled around the living room, all my notes scattered on the coffee table. Emma was sitting beside Elena on the couch, Zayed on the chair while I sat across him, in a similar chair. The air was tense because there were pictures of Lincoln’s bloody face glaring at all of us.

“You received a message on the day of the funeral,” Elena said, flicking her eyes from Emma to me. “And you were with her?”

I nodded. “I told her someone was watching her at the bar. I thought little of it back then, but I think it was him.”

Zayed whistled, startling all of us, and straightened up, narrowing his gaze at Emma. “How many exes do you have, kitten?”

“Don’t call her that,” I snapped.

She answered, “Just one. Caleb. And he wouldn’t stalk me.”

Zayed chuckled, “Maybe you’re right. How about girlfriends?”

I frowned. Mia and Summer would never. Beating up Lincoln would take a lot of manpower, and even though I didn’t doubt their strength, they weren’t the type to hurt someone for their own benefit.

“I don’t think it’s a woman. Or women,” Elena corrected, showing him the picture of the ruined panties of Emma. I clenched my jaw when Emma looked away.

“This is definitely a sicko,” Zayed said, and grinned up at his wife. “I love it.”

“If you will not take this matter seriously, leave my house,” I said calmly, hoping I could punch him. “You are scaring Emma and you are not helping. I don’t care if you are a rich Sheikh. You are not welcome here if you keep—”

“I’d really think about what you are going to say next, Cillian,” Zayed said, his demeanor changing as he faced me, a small evil smile playing on his lips. There it was. “I don’t want Elena here as much as you don’t want Emma to be in this situation. I don’t care who gets hurt as long she is safe—”

Zayed—”

“I’m not done, little witch.” He shot a look at Elena and continued, “I’ll help you solve this shit, and then we will leave this little town. My wife has already fought enough battles and frankly, I’m tired of killing people.”

It was a warning. If someone dares to harm Elena, he was going feral.

None of us said anything. Even Emma’s eyes were wide as she stared at Zayed. Elena rolled her eyes and mumbled, ‘Dramatic ass’, underneath her breath.

“Now, I know it’s someone who knows her since she was a kid. Her friend or someone older. My guess was her brother, Damon, but he was at the manor when you met Emma at the bar while the supposed stalker watched her.”

“Damon is an asshole, but he wouldn’t!” Emma defended and picked up the list of people who had attended the funeral. “Are we sure it’s someone who didn’t attend the funeral?”

Elena and I agreed, while Zayed didn’t.

“He could’ve attended the funeral and left early—kitten, did you see someone when you rushed out of the house?”

I rolled my eyes at her nickname.

“I don’t remember. I was in a rush.”

“Did you help a kid, a strange boy, or an old man?” he asked.

“What kind of question is that?” Elena asked, voicing my thoughts.

Zayed looked at her and tapped at the print of all the messages Emma had received. “He is delusional. Stalkers usually have a mental illness that stops them from being social and creates a different world in their own head. She could’ve helped a kid with an injury and given him a bandage or helped a man cross a road and if they’re sick enough, they’d think that Emma loved them and decided to stalk her. Make her feel safe, protect her, and bring the two of them together.”

“Is that why he said ‘our home’?” Emma whispered.

“Yes. And he killed Lincoln because he…” Zayed paused, looking at Elena. He cleared his throat and softened his voice. “I think he knew what happened and hurt him to protect you.”

“But that happened years ago,” her voice was harsh, as she couldn’t believe it.

I wanted to take her in my lap and cocoon her in my arms. But I stayed put, clenching my hands in fists.

“It did,” Elena said, placing her hand on hers. “But he is not thinking rationally or even thinking. He wants you. He has been keeping an eye on you. Sent you gifts, messages and killed someone. He is even more dangerous than we thought.”

“What do I do?”

“For now, nothing,” Elena said and looked at me. “Cillian will keep you safe. But we can’t bide time to see what he’d do next. I will have my entire team to start looking for him. Starting with everyone on your contact list and… your mom’s death.”

“What about it?” Emma’s voice turned pensive, and I straightened up. Her mom was a very sensitive topic. I didn’t want them to push her too much that she didn’t open up.

Elena and Zayed shared a knowing look before she said, “I don’t think it was an accident, Emma.”

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