Chapter 6

Chapter six

Barefoot, Morgana surveyed the room and made her way to the closet. She was searching for something she could conceal within the robe to protect herself.

Recalling an old piece of advice from her father: "Looks can be deceiving."

This Arab might seem good, but it's better not to try anything or he'll regret it, she thought while picking up a tie pin, hiding it within the robe's pocket.

Morgana didn't find anything else she could use to defend herself, or the unfamiliar man might immediately sense her intentions. Summoning her courage, she released a long sigh and slowly left the room. As she opened the door, she carefully walked through the room. Morgana found no one. The space was vast, and she had no idea where the Arab might be.

Suddenly, everything seemed to slow down. Morgana looked around. In the hall, observing the entrance door. Her eyes sparkled.

She quickly sneaked toward the door. With increasing adrenaline, her heart began to beat faster, her hands becoming trembling and sweaty.

Before unlocking the door, she glanced around. The moment of her long-awaited freedom had come; it felt as if she had been away from home for months.

With an extreme sense of happiness, she turned the bolt, and the sound of the latch opening was music to her ears.

As she put her foot outside, someone grabbed her arm, pulling her back in. Fearing for her life, Morgana reached into her pocket, grabbing the pin and burying it in the arm of the person restraining her.

She heard a painful groan and was released, but she didn't have time to see who had pulled her back. Only one word echoed in her mind: “Run!”

So, she ran. Knowing that her life depended on it.

At the end of the hallway, she saw the elevator doors closing and ran faster. Morgana could hardly feel her legs, she didn't even know how she was managing to run, but she reached her goal.

Inside the elevator, she leaned against the wall and pressed what she believed was the first floor button. Breathing intensely, it felt like her heart was about to leap out of her chest.

Back in the apartment, Zayn frowned with the pain he felt. He went to the room in search of the phone he had dropped on the floor and immediately called the hotel's security at the lobby.

“A woman with red hair will try to leave, stop her!” he ordered.

“Consider it done, sir. She won't pass me.”

“Use brute force with her, consider yourself a dead man!”

Zayn hung up the phone, wiping the blood from his arm with a handkerchief, and headed towards the elevators. He knew well that the girl was scared, but he didn't blame her; she had suffered for days at the hands of that wretch. Unfortunately, he would need to be a bit forceful, as the girl was too weakened to venture alone through the streets of Arabia.

Before entering the second elevator, Zayn saw on the panel that hers had already reached the ground floor. With legs weak from the running and almost fainting from dizziness, Morgana still had strength to fight for her freedom.

A man at the reception saw her and approached, concerned. Before he could say anything, Morgana desperately sought help, holding onto his arms tightly.

“Please, help me! By everything that is most sacred to you, help me! Don't let him get near me!" She spoke in Portuguese, forgetting she wasn't in her homeland.

The receptionist apologized, signaling that he didn’t understand her. Morgana gave up, letting him go and ran to the exit. She didn’t have time to explain, as the Arab could appear at any moment, leaving her lost.

Running to the entrance, she tried to open the doors, but failed. The guard approached cautiously and spoke in English:

“Ma'am, calm down. The sheik is coming to pick you up."

“What? No! Please, don’t let him take me!"

“It will be all right, I promise."

“You don’t understand!” She said between tears, holding his arms. “He bought me, thinks I’m merchandise? Call the police, help me!"

Morgana heard the elevator sound. Looking to the side, she saw Zayn emerging from it looking unfriendly. She swallowed hard, it was what she feared the most. And apparently, everyone was on the side of that cursed scoundrel!

“Stay away from me!" She shouted, releasing the security guard's arms. "If you think you have rights over me, you are sorely mistaken! I’m not an object that can be bought. If my daddy finds out, he’ll crush you!"

“Your father might try, but he would never succeed." Zayn assured calmly.

“He has a lot of influence, he’s a very powerful man!"

“So, you’re a daddy's girl?" Zayn asked, arms crossed and a wry smile.

“He’ll find me, don’t doubt that!" Morgana said with little hope.

Zayn uncrossed his arms, got closer to her. Grabbing her wrist, he made her tremble with his touch, as if multiple volts went through her body. Staring into her eyes, he realized she felt it too.

Morgana raised her head, tilting her nose.

“If you try anything with me, anything at all, I’ll kill you!"

“I don’t doubt it. Although the pin isn’t big, my arm hurts a lot. Come with me, let’s talk."

Zayn held her firmly by the wrist and dragged her back to the penthouse. Once inside, he let her go and locked the door, hiding the key in his pants pocket.

“I won’t hurt you. Let's go to the kitchen; you can have some soup I was heating up when you decided to flee, and I'll tell you how you ended up here."

Silent, Morgana followed him. Zayn went behind the counter and poured a little soup into a bowl. Overwhelmed by fatigue and extreme hunger, Morgana sat in a chair, waiting.

“While you eat, I'll tell you what happened,” Zayn said, placing the bowl in front of her and serving a pita bread.

The smell made Morgana's stomach growl, which drew a smile from the sheikh.

"Eat, you'll be satisfied. It's warm so it won't hurt your throat while swallowing. It's made with chickpeas and meat."

"Thank you," replied Morgana, picking up the utensil, still looking at him warily.

With the first spoonful in her mouth, she experienced an explosion of flavors, closing her eyes in delight.

"Mmm, this is delicious!"

"I knew you would like it."

Zayn sat beside her and began telling her about the trafficker and why he accepted her as payment for the debt.

"I just wanted to help you, getting you out of that camel dung," he concluded.

Morgana finished her meal while he said the last sentence, adding inadvertently, "Camel dung is an understatement. I used to vomit every time he came near me, but what do you gain from helping me?" She looked at Zayn.

"If I had left you with him, that worm would have handed you over to the tribes in the desert, and I can assure you that your fate would have been very unpleasant."

"That doesn't answer my question, but it doesn't matter."

"Are you satisfied? Want more soup?"

"No, thank you. I'm full."

"Then come, let's go to the living room. It's almost dawn." Zayn offered her his hand. As she took it, Morgana looked into his eyes, paralyzed. Both stood still, just looking at each other, feeling the invasion of an electric shock again.

Morgana released Zayn's hand, feeling disconcerted. She doesn't trust him yet, and her body reacting in this way wasn't helping.

Observing his face, she found him very handsome, never having seen such a beautiful Arab.

Oh, my God, I'm losing my mind! I should hate him, but I can't. There's something about him that attracts me, she thought unsatisfied with herself.

"I'd like to sleep a little," she requested.

"Of course. If you wish, you can lock the door. Have a good night."

"Thank you," she replied.

I'd better stay away from him.

Morgana lay on the bed, hardly believing she could sleep. However, as soon as she laid her head on the pillow, she fell asleep immediately.

In the living room, Zayn ran his hand over his face. Sitting on the sofa, he looked out of the immense window, watching the starry sky.

As I thought, her hair is much more red and beautiful, and her skin is incredibly silky and perfect, he mused.

Zayn sighed but was willing to wait as long as needed to seduce her; he wasn’t in a rush.

He doubted the girl had a husband or boyfriend. So far, she's only spoken about her father. And thinking about it, the man must be desperate.

Once the girl is better, I'll look for her father and let him know she's okay. He might be very old and end up having a heart attack, he thought.

As he pondered everything, he made his way to the guest room, lying down without bothering to change clothes, and quickly fell asleep.