Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Zain smiled humorlessly. They both had been full of shit. Looking back, he was pretty sure Aiden had lied. Had lied for his sake. The selfless idiot had probably thought he was protecting Zain from his father and Al Sharabi. And rationally, turning Zain away was the smart thing to do. The helpful thing. The path of least resistance.
But Zain had never been one to choose the easy way out when he wanted something.
And he did want something. More than anything he’d ever wanted in his life.
The humiliating, humbling truth was, he needed Aiden back—snuggled up in his lap, under him, around him, in his home. Fucking attached at the hip, so he’d never be stolen away again. He needed him, with a ferocity that frightened him. He hadn’t needed anyone in years. In two decades.
But he wasn’t a child anymore. His mother was dead. Aiden was alive. And Aiden wanted him. Aiden belonged to him. He knew this as well as he knew his own name. Aiden belonged to him, and Zain would get him back.
He knew it wouldn’t be easy. Their situation was nearly unfixable. But Aiden needed him to fix it—Zain had seen it, had felt it when Aiden had clung to him, his face wet with tears.
Aiden needed him.
The thought was dizzying, intoxicating in a way that couldn’t possibly be healthy or normal. But fuck it. He didn’t care if it wasn’t healthy or normal. He was done hoping that these feelings would go away if he waited long enough. They weren’t going away. It was impossible to remain in denial when he’d been drinking like an alcoholic ever since his return from the US.
Enough.
He was done doing the smart thing. The cowardly thing.
It was time to be the selfish asshole he was, no matter how difficult things were going to be.
And they would be difficult. It would likely take months before he could untangle his family’s assets from Al Sharabi’s and divorce Farah without her father creating a shitstorm of problems for his family. Zain’s own father would be a major obstacle too. At least Gadiel was now safe from their wrath—Zain would be the target of it now.
There was also the problem of Aiden being a man. He would never be able to claim Aiden as his while they lived here. They could never be open about their relationship without giving Al Sharabi an excuse to arrest him and sentence him to a life in prison. That meant he needed to start moving his assets—and his business—to another country.
So much to do… so many obstacles to overcome... But for a determined man, they were just obstacles. Nothing impossible. If he could fight and claw his way up after being disowned by his father when he was seventeen, he could outmaneuver two old, stubborn men when he was thirty-three.
Zain pulled his phone out of his pocket and called his assistant. The hour was too early, but his PA was paid a small fortune for a reason.
“Tell my lawyers to come to my office in an hour.”
Ignoring his assistant’s spluttering, Zain hung up, his expression settling into one of grim resolve.
He would get him back.
Whatever it took.
However long it took.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Six months later
Jordan smiled, watching Damiano sleep. The transatlantic flight must have tired him out more than Damiano had let on or he wouldn’t have fallen asleep after a round of sex.
Carefully, Jordan pushed his boyfriend’s proprietary arm off him and got dressed. The hour was still pretty early, and he didn’t feel like sleeping yet. He could catch up with his parents and siblings before going back to bed. He had missed them.
His mother was the first one he found. She was still busy baking, and Jordan watched her for a moment. She looked lovely but tired.
“You should get some rest, Mom,” he said, feeling a pang of worry. She wasn’t that young anymore. “Didn’t you say it’d be just close family tomorrow?” His parents’ lavish dinners on Christmas were a family tradition, but Jordan and Damiano had missed the main event, having spent Christmas with Damiano’s family. His mother had said they would have another family dinner tomorrow now that Jordan and Damiano were here, but Jordan had been under the impression that it would be a small affair.
“It will be,” she said with a weary smile. “Just us and Eloise’s family, no one else. Aiden will be more comfortable with fewer people around.”
Jordan frowned. “He still hasn’t gotten better?” His sister had alluded to it earlier—that Aiden still wasn’t as happy as he seemed to be, but Jordan had hoped she was wrong.
“Oh, he has!” his mother said. “He’s so much better now that he resumed going to school. But…”
“But what?” Jordan said.
She sighed, her shoulders falling.
Jordan was becoming more worried by the moment. “What is it, Mom?” he said, walking closer and taking her hand in his.