The Sheikh's Assistant Read online

  Sofian had been raised as a prince. His childhood was unlike other children’s childhoods. His parents had not raised him. They had national and internationals matters to attend to. He spent most of his time in books and not outside like other kids. There hadn’t been any time for him to develop emotional bonds with his parents.

  “Have you caught them?” Sofian asked his father.

  “Some of them,” his father replied.

  “Some.” Sofian gulped down all of his whiskey. He banged the glass onto the table, causing it to smash into pieces. His father almost jumped out of his skin. “I will find every single one of them. And I will annihilate the entire clan.”

  Sofian felt so much rage flowing through him. He got up and walked out of the room. He so badly wanted to catch the killers of his brother. They had to pay for what they had done. With blood dripping from his hand, he swore to avenge his brother’s death.

  Morgan was just standing in the doorway to her room speaking to a maid when she saw Sofian walking into his chambers. Morgan was to stay in the room across from Sofian’s. She noticed that his hand was bleeding. She quickly followed him.

  Morgan caught up with him in his living room. She stood in front of him. She wanted to ask him if he was okay, but of course he was not okay. There was no point in asking fruitless questions. “What happened to your hand?” she asked.

  “Not now, Morgan, return to your room,” he instructed her and walked out of the room. Two maids walked into the living room.

  “Can you get a first-aid kit for me, please?” Morgan asked them. They looked at each other. “Please hurry, thank you.”

  Morgan headed out of the living room and followed Sofian’s footsteps. Probably not one of her best ideas. She suddenly found herself walking into his bathroom where he was. Sofian ran his hand through his hair and then punched the mirror. Morgan gasped. She rushed to his side and took his hand.

  “Hurting yourself won’t help,” she said.

  “Did I not tell you to return to your chambers?” he shouted at her. Morgan had never seen him so angry and so hurt. She opened the tap and let the cold water run. She cautiously took his wrist and put his hand under the cold water.

  “What are you doing?” he asked her.

  “Cleaning your cuts,” she said.

  “Excuse me,” the maid said, so quietly. She stood in the doorway holding the first-aid kit. “I brought the kit.”

  “Bring it here,” Morgan replied. She rushed in and gave Morgan the kit, then rushed back out. Morgan opened the kit and pulled out tweezers. She inspected Sofian’s cuts and pulled out pieces of glass in them. Sofian watched her with his eyebrows crossed.

  “I don’t know what you’re going through. I don’t know what to say to make you feel better,” Morgan said to him. She took a cotton swab and put some antiseptic on it. She used it to clean Sofian’s cuts. “Just don’t hurt yourself,” she said. After cleaning his cuts, she bandaged his hand.

  When she was done, she took the kit and walked out of his quarters. There was nothing much she could do for him. It was not like they were friends. If they were, then she would have hugged him. Bandaging his hand and leaving him to mourn in peace was all she could do.

  Morgan headed back to her luxurious quarters. As she walked in, there were expensive chairs that surrounded a wooden table with an intricate design. The floors were made of the finest marble. Her four-poster bed was quite high. The bedroom itself was twice the size of her bedroom in the States. It felt like she was living in a high-class hotel. She fished her phone out of her bag and Skype called Brooke.

  “Why are you calling me on Skype?” Brooke said as she answered. They normally texted each other or called on the phone and not on Skype.

  “Look where I am.” Morgan had Brook on video call. She started showing Brooke the bedroom.

  “Where are you?” Brooke leaned into the camera.

  “In Kaslan.”

  “What? Why are you there?”

  “I came with the sheikh.” Morgan threw herself on the bed.

  “Is that why he called you into work on a Saturday?” Brooke asked.

  “No, his brother died. So he came as soon as he found out. I feel so bad for him,” Morgan replied.

  “Really? Bless him.”

  “I know.”

  “So what is the purpose of you being there?”

  “He just said I had to come because I was his assistant. I guess he wants to make sure that I carry on working.”

  “That makes no sense. He just wanted you with him.”

  “I don’t like where this is going. I am tired. I am going to sleep.”

  Brooke laughed. “Okay, call me tomorrow then,” she said.

  “I will.” Morgan ended the call. She placed her cell phone on the nightstand and got in under the covers.

  Chapter 10

  Sofian approached his mother and Zara, Samir’s wife, at the church where they were holding the funeral for his brother. He kissed his mother on both cheeks. “Why are you late?” she asked him.

  “I just had matters to attend to,” he replied. He had sent some specially trained men to the desert. He needed them to find all of the Khans, the entire tribe. They were all going to pay for his brother’s death. He took Zara’s hands into his and kissed her on both cheeks.

  “How are you holding up?” he asked her.

  “As well as I can,” she said and forced a smile.

  “What happened to your hand?” his mother asked. She took his wrist and inspected his hand.

  “It’s nothing.” He inspected his right hand. Morgan had bandaged it for him. It was very strange. No one had done that for him before. Whenever he had gotten hurt in the past, it was always a doctor or nurse that did it but never someone without medical experience. Despite him shouting at Morgan, she still dared to touch him.

  People approached him and his mother and Zara to say their condolences. His mother did most of the talking. Sofian did not know what he was to say to them. It was polite for people to give their condolences but he could not do anything with condolences. They did not make him feel better and they did not bring back the dead.

  “Sir.” Sofian heard a quiet voice. He turned and saw Morgan standing there in her black dress. “I didn’t know if I was to come or not.”

  “It’s fine,” Sofian replied. He felt strangely relieved to have her there. She was the only one not looking at him with a sad face and pretending to care. Most of the people at the funeral did not know Samir personally. There were governors, ministers, princes, princesses, sheikhs and kings from different places. They were only there out of courtesy.

  “Do you need me to do anything?” Morgan asked him.

  “No, just stand there,” he replied.

  “Sofian,” his mother began to say. She paused when she saw Morgan. “Who is she?”

  “My assistant.”

  “Hello, my name is Morgan,” she introduced herself. “I am so sorry about your son.”

  Sofian’s mother nodded. “Thank you,” she said. She looked at Sofian. “We need to take our seats,” she said to him.

  “Where is father?” Sofian asked.

  “Speaking with an envoy from Lebanon.”

  Sofian nodded. He gently placed his hand on his mother’s back and went with her to sit down. Morgan followed quietly. The four of them sat down at the front of the church. Moments later, Sofian’s father came to join them. He sat next to his wife.

  Sofian was sad and relieved when the funeral ended. He no longer wanted to be around all the people. He felt very sad after seeing his brother’s body. He had not even gotten a chance to say goodbye. The last time they had spoken, they had had a normal conversation. It angered him that he could no longer speak to his brother or see him or hang out with him.

  “Let’s all eat together,” said Sofian’s mother when they returned home. She sounded and looked exhausted. It was understandable. It had been a long morning and afternoon. Her husband put his arm around her
and headed to the dining room with her. Zara had left and gone to her quarters. She did not really want to be around people.

  “I’ll see you soon,” Morgan said to Sofian. She turned on her heel to leave. Sofian grabbed hold of her dress and pulled her back. “Sofian!” she shouted. He raised his eyebrows.

  “You are calling me by my name now,” he said to her.

  “That was a slip.” She cleared her throat. “Never mind that. Why are you dragging me backwards?”

  “My mother said we should eat together.”

  “I did not think she meant me also.”

  “It does not matter either way. You must come.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I said so.” Sofian was not going to explain himself to her. Her being around him was strangely calming.

  “Okay.” Morgan crossed her eyebrows. Sofian started walking towards the dining room. Morgan followed. They joined his parents at the dining table.

  “How long have you worked for my son?” Sofian’s mother asked Morgan.

  “I was a research assistant for months but I became his assistant about a month ago,” Morgan replied. Sofian raised an eyebrow. Morgan could have just said a month. However she was a talkative girl.

  “How is it going?” Sofian’s father asked Morgan.

  “It’s interesting, I must say. I have never worked in this kind of role before but I quickly got the hang of it,” she replied.

  His father smiled at her. “So by interesting, you mean to say that you like it?”

  “The interesting thing is Sofian, I mean Sheikh Sofian, Prince Sofian? I never know what the best way to address him is. Anyway he is hard to read, and a bit fussy at times.” Morgan laughed a little. His father laughed with her. Sofian shook his head. Because Morgan spoke too much, she often said a lot of unnecessary things. The maids brought in the food and started serving them.

  “I am never fussy,” Sofian protested.

  “You are,” said his mother. She offered a warm smile. After the maids had finished dishing out the food, they all started eating.

  “The crown prince’s position is now empty,” said Sofian's father. Everyone immediately turned serious. “Sofian, you will have to fill it.”

  Sofian jerked his head up and looked at his father. “Father, we only just buried Samir,” he spat out. The last thing on his mind was the throne. Not once in his life had he ever considered the crown. It was always Samir’s.

  “I am aware of that but this was inevitable. It is best we discuss it as soon as possible. That position cannot be empty.”

  Sofian closed his eyes momentarily. He had not even finished mourning his brother. How could he think of taking his position? Sofian dropped his fork.

  “I don’t want it,” he said.

  “Perhaps we can talk about this another time,” his mother said softly. Sofian shook his head.

  “There is no one else. Sofian, you have to be the future king of Kaslan,” said his father. Sofian pulled his chair back and stood up. He walked out of the room.

  Chapter 11

  Morgan had never felt so awkward in her life. She was left sitting at the table with Sofian’s parents. She did not know whether she should follow Sofian out or just sit there. She should not have been there when they discussed making Sofian the crown prince. She could understand why he was resisting.

  She looked at his parents. His mother looked sympathetic towards Sofian. She sighed and looked at her husband. “We should have waited to speak to him about it,” she said to him.

  “Perhaps. However Samir was due to take the throne soon. So we need to prepare Sofian as soon as possible,” the king replied. He was so majestic and elegant. Morgan had never been in the presence of a king before. She itched to ask him why Samir was to take the throne soon. Usually the crown prince became king after the king died, unless he abdicated. To Morgan the king still looked capable to be king.

  “Morgan, it was nice to meet you. I have to go lie down. Please excuse me,” the queen said as she stood up from her chair.

  “The pleasure was all mine,” Morgan said to her. She smiled at Morgan warmly and left. Now things were even more awkward. Morgan was left sitting with the king. He called a maid over and asked her to bring him whiskey.

  “Things are falling apart,” he said. Morgan was not sure if he was speaking to her. He was not looking at her. He had his head buried in his hands. She was not sure what to say to him, so she just stayed quietly. The maid came with tray containing a bottle of whiskey and several glasses. She poured whiskey into a glass for him and set down the tray on the table.

  The king sighed heavily before he took a sip. “I can’t even mourn my son properly because I am a king,” he said.

  “What do you mean?” Morgan asked.

  “As a king you cannot show useless things such as emotions. It makes you look weak. And now I have to force my other son to be the crown prince.” The king shook his head and drank some more.

  “Showing emotion does not make you look weak.”

  The king smiled. “As a king it does. If you show your weakness, then your enemies will use it against you,” he said.

  “Maybe. This time your eldest son has passed on. You are allowed to mourn him,” she replied. The king finished his whiskey. He took the bottle and poured himself some more.

  “Shall I drink with you?” Morgan asked. The king poured her a glass.

  “It’s strange how things change just like that.”

  Morgan took a sip of the whiskey. The taste was so strong, she almost spat it out. The drink burned her throat as she swallowed it. She frowned and started coughing. She spilled some of it on her dress as she was coughing. The king started laughing. “I am so sorry,” she said.

  “It’s an acquired taste. Not everyone can appreciate its taste,” he said. He started laughing again.

  “It’s so strong.” Morgan preferred something sweeter to drink. “I am not a drinker.”

  “It shows.”

  “Can I ask one question?”

  “Ask.”

  “Why are you abdicating?” Morgan asked. “That’s too personal, isn’t it? You don’t have to answer. Forget my words.”

  “I’m diabetic,” the king said. “Unfortunately, my illness is not well controlled by medication.”

  Morgan gasped. “I am so sorry to hear that.”

  “Don’t be. I now get tired quicker and sometimes I feel too unwell to travel.”

  Morgan nodded. It made sense. He would need to rest and take it easy. “I can understand that,” she said. She stayed with the king a little while longer. He drank his whiskey and she snacked on anything she could get her hands on. After he was too drunk, she asked the maids to escort him back to his room. She stood up and headed back to her quarters.

  Morgan walked into her quarters and took her shoes off. She touched her belly. She was so full. She had eaten so much. She let her curls down. As she was about to sit down, she decided to go check on Sofian. She wondered how he was, especially since he had walked out during lunch.

  “Where is the sheikh?” Morgan asked one of the maids as she walked into Sofian’s quarters.

  “In his bedchamber,” the maids replied. Morgan nodded and headed that way. His quarters were much bigger than hers obviously. The floors were also made of marble. She knocked on his bedroom room.

  “Yes,” he called out. Morgan grabbed the golden handle and slid the door open. Sofian was lying on his back. Morgan approached him.

  “I came to check on you,” she said.

  “Oh, it’s you,” he said.

  “Great welcome. Makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.”

  “I’m just being my usual fussy self.”

  Morgan’s jaw hung open. His tone was so serious, she could not tell if he was joking or not. “Are you mad about that?” she asked. It seemed as though he was upset about her calling him fussy earlier.

  “I am not mad about anything,” he said the word with so much sarcasm. Morgan wen
t to sit down on the bed next to him. She could not help but notice how massive his bed was. It could fit ten people on it.

  “Morgan, what are you up to?” he asked her.

  “I am not up to anything. Why would you think that?” she replied.

  He sat up and looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “You are in my bed.”

  Morgan narrowed her gaze at him and shook her head. She knew what he was trying to suggest. “The maids got this dress for me,” she said, changing the subject. Sofian looked at it. He frowned a little.