Chapter 6

"Gabby, it's your mom... She's been taken to the hospital."

Kes' words pierced through the humdrum of my day like a lightning bolt. The hospital phone I held against my ear seemed to grow heavier with each passing second, threatening to slip from my trembling hands.

"What? How?" I managed to stutter out, my mind a whirl of panic and confusion.

"She collapsed, Gabby. Just... fell over. They said she needs immediate surgery to take care of the tumor, if not it will advance..." Kes' voice broke, sounding as fragile as I felt.

I have never felt this much pain, my dad died when I was 14 years old but ever since all I have known is my mother's love, but even she started going in and out of the hospital like it was a second home...

A sinking feeling swamped me as I heard Kes trying to hold back her tears. Even through the miles separating us, I could feel the tangible dread and worry in her voice. My mom, my backbone, my everything, was now fighting for her life, and here I was, thousands of miles away, utterly helpless.

I fought the urge to break down, right there in the middle of the hospital's bustling corridor. But I couldn’t afford to fall apart. Not now.

"I'll arrange the money, Kes," I whispered, trying to sound braver than I felt. "Tell the doctors to do everything they can."

"Yes, Gabby," Kes agreed. "But hurry. She needs you."

As I hung up the phone, the weight of my reality pressed down on me. My already meager savings had dwindled after Maria’s school fees and daily expenses. Now, the pressing need for more money for my mom’s treatment seemed like an insurmountable mountain.

My thoughts were interrupted by the crisp voice of Morgan, my colleague. She was all efficiency and no empathy; a perfect specimen of what nursing could become if one let the stress of the job overcome the compassionate nature it required.

"Gabby, the surgery schedule for the Emir has been moved up. You've been asked to assist."

Morgan's words were matter-of-fact, her tone indifferent to my silent turmoil. I could only nod in response, not trusting myself to speak. As she walked away, I sank onto the nearest chair, feeling like I'd been punched in the gut.

The Emir's surgery... The thought of the huge fee he was paying for the medical services flashed in my mind. A desperate idea began to take root, a dangerous, risky plan.

I glanced at my wrist

Five-twenty

I will be meeting him in an hour

‘Gabby now!’ Morgan’s annoying voice pierced through my thought...

‘Oh, for fuck's sake!! give me a minute, I muttered as I walked towards her

The sterile brightness of the operating room filled me with a sense of dread and urgency as I scrubbed in for the Emir's surgery. Every heartbeat, every tick of the clock echoed the time slipping away, inching closer to my meeting with the Sheikh. My mind was a whirl of thoughts, half of them focused on the surgery and the other half consumed by the daunting prospect of my plan.

With a last glance at my wristwatch – Five twenty-five – I pushed through the double doors of the operating room, my heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and determination. As the head nurse, Morgan was already there, her gaze focused on the monitors displaying the Emir’s vitals.

The surgery was complex, a heart bypass that required precision and unwavering focus. The Emir, an elderly man with a history of cardiac issues, was depending on us to quite literally keep his heart beating. Despite the turmoil of my personal life, I had a job to do. And I intended to do it to the best of my abilities.

Hours blurred into each other as we worked in intense silence, the only sounds being the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor and the hushed voices of doctors instructing and consulting. As I watched the Emir's heart beating steadily on the monitor, I couldn't help but think of my own mother lying in a hospital bed across the globe. The parallels were painfully ironic.

Finally, the surgery was deemed a success, and we all breathed a sigh of relief. The Emir was wheeled off to the recovery room, the tension in the OR dispersing with his departure. I was mentally and physically exhausted, but the day was far from over.

Seven forty-five. I had barely fifteen minutes to clean up and get home to prepare to meet the Sheikh.

I raced out of the hospital, barely acknowledging Morgan's call for an update on post-surgery procedures. I'd deal with her annoyance tomorrow; tonight, I had a more daunting task at hand.

As I hurried home, my heart pounded with a combination of exhaustion, fear, and hope. This was it, the moment I'd been dreading and eagerly awaiting. My fate, my mother's fate, was now hanging in the balance of this one, pivotal meeting with Sheikh Aasif.

I stared at the lady before me as she stares back, I applied my L'Oreal Paris lipstick, the one Kes slipped into my bag without my notice, tentatively she did the same, I pouted my lips, and so did she

A voice broke my concentration. "If you're finished with your little face-off there, you'd notice your ride is waiting outside," Lorenzo, my affable next-door neighbor, quipped as he strolled in. I had been so deep in thought I hadn't heard him enter.

"They're called chauffeurs, Lorenzo, chauffeurs,"

I corrected with a small smile, appreciating his attempt to lighten my heavy mood.

He caught my hand, his eyes earnest.

"You'll be okay, Gabby. Go to him. Explain your situation. You never know how it might turn out, but at least try."

His encouragement brought forth a genuine smile.

"Thank you, Sir Lorenzo," I teased him, attempting to ease the knot of anxiety coiling in my stomach.

The drive to Sheikh Aasif's hideaway was serene, a soothing contrast to the tumult inside me. "Why can't life be this smooth?" I murmured to myself as the car glided to a halt before an awe-inspiring structure. It was grand yet held an inviting charm I hadn't expected.

Then, he emerged, and my breath hitched.

"Good Lord, why does he have to look so devastatingly handsome?" I whispered under my breath.

A warm greeting spilled from his lips,

"Gabby, welcome." His touch as he took my hand sent an unexpected shiver coursing through me. "Thank you, Sheikh. Your home... it's beautiful,"

I managed to stammer, taken aback by the unexpected homeliness of his world.

He chuckled softly, guiding me in.

"It's a sanctuary, a place where I can escape the relentless noise that comes with my position and responsibilities."

"Would you care for some wine?" he asked, his voice carrying a slight undertone of unease. "I wasn't sure about your preference, so I had Ahmed bring a variety. I trust you'll find something to your taste."

I couldn't help but sense his uncharacteristic nervousness. It was puzzling, considering I should be the anxious one. But there he was, a picture of uncertainty, awkwardly pouring wine.

"Whichever you choose will be fine by me, Sheikh," I responded, attempting to ease the tension. "I'm not really a wine connoisseur, or to be more accurate, I've never really had the luxury of tasting a good wine before."

He handed me a glass, settling into the chair across from me, his gaze filled with quiet intrigue. "Miss Gabrielle..."

"Gabby, please, Sheikh," I corrected him instinctively.

"Hamdan."

I blinked, taken aback. "Pardon?"

"You can call me Hamdan. I'd prefer that," he clarified.

"Alright, Hamdan," I started, feeling a rush of adrenaline as I ventured into uncharted territory. "I understand that you invited me here because you have a proposal for me, but I need to ask a favor of you. I hope you'd indulge me."

His gaze held steady, prompting me to continue. "I'm listening, Gabby."

Taking a deep breath, I dove into the turbulent sea of my troubles. "My mother was diagnosed with Leukemia a few months ago. The struggle to afford her treatment was primarily why I accepted this job. Earlier this evening, my best friend Kes called to inform me that my mother collapsed. I'm at a loss here, Hamdan, and I realize how exploitative this might sound, but I..."

"How much do you need, Gabby?" he interjected, startling me. "Or would it be better to fly her down here?"

I was at a loss for words. I hadn't anticipated his response would be so immediate, so...compassionate.

"I... I'm not sure, Hamdan. Perhaps it would be better to treat her there. They have excellent doctors, but I..."

"Consider it done,"

he interrupted a determined look on his face.

"I'll have my accountant transfer the necessary funds to you immediately. However, I must ask for something in return."

My heart pounded in my chest as anticipation coiled tight within me. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I asked, "And what would that be?"

"I want you, so bad"