turned away. Alex did not understand. How could he? They shared the same blood, but they did not share the same culture. He was more American in beliefs and attitude. Alex could not know how it felt to suddenly have both the past and future shattered.
“King Zak? What’s your position on this?”
Sharif stared out the window as he waited for his father to answer Alex. He did not have to look at the older man to know that he thoughtfully stroked his chin as he considered his answer. King Zak was the wisest man Sharif had ever known, and in the end, he would abide by his father’s wishes.
“How much do these men know?” King Zak finally asked, just as Rose carried in a tray of coffee.
Alex hesitated a moment. “These are the same guys who broke the story about Mother being kept drugged in the sanitarium in Europe while Mac, Cade and I were sent here.” He slid a look at Rose, and her lips curved in a reassuring smile. “And of course they covered Cade and Serena’s wedding. Now, they know you two are here.” Alex looked pointedly at Sharif. “And they claim that my dear brother is having an affair with one of our ranch hands. Absurd, isn’t it?”
Everyone in the room turned toward Sharif. Disapproval and annoyance darkened his father’s face, while confusion furrowed Rose’s eyebrows. Cade had just returned, his grim expression focused on Sharif.
“An affair?” Sharif made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “I have been here only twenty-four hours and already they claim I am having an affair. This is why I see no point in supplying them with information.”
Alex shrugged, his unwavering gaze a clear indication he did not completely believe Sharif. “By the same token, what we don’t give them, they make up.”
“What is it you suggest we tell them?” King Zak asked.
Alex looked at Rose. “This may not be easy.”
She did not react. Her attention was focused on Sharif’s wet shirt. When her gaze rose to meet his, Sharif saw comprehension dawn in her eyes. She knew about him and Olivia.
Guilt nudged him. Which was ridiculous. A couple of kisses did not constitute an affair. And Olivia had been a willing participant. He would not have acted, otherwise.
“Mother?” Alex frowned at her before his eyes again found Sharif.
“You’re right, Alex.” She abandoned the tray of coffee and sank into a chair. “Let’s tell them what we know.”
He nodded. “Okay, let’s discuss the wording and who’ll be the spokesman.”
To Sharif’s amazement, Rose leaned forward, and resting her elbows on the table, said, “I’ve been thinking about this, and I think we should go ahead and give them a brief, factual chronological list of events.”
Everyone nodded, no one looking the least surprised at the assertiveness in her voice or the sudden strength in her face. Fascinated by this other side of her, Sharif remained silent.
“First, we tell them about Ibrahim’s assassination.” She paused at the mention of her husband, a brief sadness touching her face and finding a soft spot in Sharif’s stubborn heart. “How it was Azzam’s wife, Layla, who had arranged for my imprisonment. And Ibrahim’s murder.” She briefly closed her eyes. “I was wrong in accusing my husband’s brother and trying to retaliate. This is my chance to set the record straight.”
Silence descended. It had been a shocking and ugly thing to learn that a twisted, sick thirst for power had resulted in the death of a king, and the ruin of his family. So many casualties. So many lies.
Sharif stared at Rose with grudging respect. Thirty years in a sanitarium, drugged and separated from her children, while still grieving for her husband. Yet she had survived.
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