POV: Catalina

We had returned from the island.

The return trip was silent. Khalid was glued to his phone, yelling at his bankers and his public relations team.

The rumors about Layla had worked. Investors were nervous. Money wasn't flowing.

Khalid dropped me off at the Penthouse and ran off towards his offices.

"Don't go out," he ordered me. "The press is like vultures."

I was left alone.

Or so I thought.

At four in the afternoon, the private elevator opened.

I hadn't given any warning. Security hadn't called me.

The metal doors slid open and revealed a figure dressed in all black.

Mariam Al-Rasheed.

Khalid's mother. The matriarch of the clan.

He hadn't seen her for months. Normally, she lived in her summer palace in Fujairah, far from the noise of the city her son had helped to build.

I jumped up from the sofa.

My heart gave a painful lurch.

Did he know something? Had Khalid told him about my "blocked cards" or my "paranoia"?

—Mariam—I said, bowing my head in respect—. I wasn't expec