bargaining with God. She’d have sold her soul to save her mom. Fortunately, the required conditions asked considerably less of her.
She touched her engagement ring—a white-gold band with a three-carat diamond surrounded by emeralds on one side and blue sapphires on the other. Her betrothed said the ring was an heirloom, passed from his grandmother to his mother to him. No, Miah didn’t regret the bargain she’d made. It had given her options she’d never dreamed possible.
Her first priority had been this doctor.
Lina smiled. “At least I’ll be able to give my daughter away at her wedding tomorrow.”
Miah squeezed her mom’s hand. The arranged marriage—the main condition attached to the golden rainbow—would bring her a royal title, her own wealth, the incredible and new sensation of everyone treating her as if she were special, making her feel special. On the other hand, she barely knew her groom-to-be, and that scared her. She had, however, kept this secret worry to herself.
She glanced lovingly at her mom. Lina seemed even smaller than usual, frail. Her lips a bit blue beneath her pink lipstick. Even her hair, which had always been thick and black like Miah’s own, was thinning, graying. Her mom didn’t need to know about Miah’s misgivings. Couldn’t deal with even one extra burden. She needed to smile as she was smiling now, a Mona Lisa glow in her brown eyes.
Lina stood. “I’ve been afraid, Dr. Forbes, that I’d finally be joining my darling Grant, leaving our daughter without either of her parents to see her married. Or that I’d be bedridden, in which case Miah would insist on the ceremony taking place in my hospital room.”
“I would do it, too.” Miah gathered her purse and rose.
“Yes, I know. But I’ll be grateful if a donor doesn’t show up tomorrow to spoil your wedding.” Lina’s smile widened as she joked. “Day after tomorrow would be fine, though, Dr. Forbes. See if you can arrange it.”
Laughing, she winked at Miah, and Miah allowed herself to embrace the joy she saw in her mother’s eyes, that she felt trickling through her worry. Life had held so little happiness in the past, she still struggled with accepting the good things that had befallen them these past six months. She’d wake up some nights in a cold sweat, certain it had all disappeared because she’d believed in it too much, enjoyed it too much.
“Go and enjoy yourself.” The doctor held the door open. “You’re a fighter, Lina. Just keep fighting.”
Miah ushered her mother out of the doctor’s office, down the hall and onto a crowded elevator. All the while, she mulled over the doctor’s last words. As far back as she could recall, her mom had had to fight for everything. She’d been widowed when Miah was twelve. Grant Mohairbi had been a freedom fighter in his youth, and a firefighter later on. He’d died a hero’s death, rescuing three small children and their mother from their blazing apartment building, before being overcome with smoke inhalation.
Grant and Lina had shared the kind of love everyone strives for and few find. He had been a wonderful father to Miah. His loss had devastated them both.
But instead of falling apart, as she had had every right to do, Lina had wanted to honor Grant’s memory, make him as proud of her as she had always been—and remained still—of him. She had picked up her five-foot frame, gathered her ninety pounds and assessed their situation, then threw herself into doing whatever it took to keep a roof over their heads.
The survivors’ pension had only stretched so far. Lina had worked two minimum-wage jobs, coming home worn-out, but always finding time for Miah—helping her with homework, listening eagerly to her talk about her day, keeping their connection strong and intact—before falling exhausted into bed.
So tight was their bond, Miah had never had an inkling she was adopted. It had come as quite a shock, one she still battled to believe, even with daily, hourly proof staring her in the face.
Like the chauffeured limousine awaiting them at the curb, provided by her birth father—her real-life fairy godfather—Sheik Khalaf Al-Sayed, a multimillionaire oil mogul. It amazed Miah how quickly a person could come to accept luxuries as the norm.
The chauffeur helped Lina into the back seat, then turned to Miah. “Ms. Mohairbi, I found this on the floorboard. I thought perhaps it had fallen out of your pocketbook.”
Miah frowned, accepting the envelope. The moment she recognized the block lettering, she froze. This hadn’t come from her purse. Someone had placed it in the car. When? How? “Did you leave the limousine unattended at any time, Mehemet?”
His black eyes became evasive. “Only one moment…to answer nature. But I lock first.”
“Okay.” It was a silly thing to lie about, but she knew he couldn’t have locked the car. Otherwise, the note would not have been in it. And it was unlikely he’d seen whomever had put the envelope inside it. She quickly read the enclosed note, feeling the heat drain from her cheeks.
“Avoid stress,” the doctor had said. But this…this… Miah squished the blackmail note in her fist and shoved it into her pocket. This would bring her mother’s ailing heart to a dead stop.
Miah squelched the urge to curse and got into the car, letting the soft leather embrace her. She’d thought the first payment to the vile extortionist would be the end of it. But there had been a second demand. And now another. God, how naive she’d been. He wanted ten thousand more or he’d ruin her wedding. Destroy her mother. Start a scandal that could strip her of her future. She stared out the window as the limo merged with traffic. She hated the shivering in her stomach that felt as if she’d swallowed a full glass of ice shavings.
Fear.
Truth didn’t scare Miah. Lies did.
Perhaps that was because she’d discovered last January that her whole life had been a lie. Had Grant Mohairbi’s life also been a lie? Had the father she’d grown up loving, adoring, honoring been who her mother and she had thought he was? Had he been a freedom fighter? A hero? Or had he been a mercenary? An assassin?
“Darling, is something wrong?” Lina touched her clasped hands. “You’re very pale. For a moment there, you looked absolutely…terrified.”
“Terrified? Don’t be silly. No, no,” she managed to say in a tone that sounded normal. “I was thinking about the wedding. Nothing for you to fret about, honest.”
But her mom’s brow knit, a sign she wasn’t going to let this go so easily. “Are you having second thoughts about marrying someone you’ve been betrothed to since you were a baby?”
She doubted anyone would blame her if she were having second thoughts, but she couldn’t afford them. She had agreed to the marriage without coercion from anyone, agreed to it for all that it would give her—including her own money, an enormous inheritance that would allow her to pay off the extortionist once and for all. She said, “No second thoughts.”
None she would admit to out loud, anyway. Not to her mother. Not to herself. Outside, stifling damp heat prevailed; inside, air-conditioning froze the sweat on Miah’s brow.
“You’re going to be a beautiful bride, darling.” Lina touched her hand as the car inched along in heavy morning traffic. “I’m so excited about tomorrow.”
Miah’s internal alarm went off, shredding all thoughts of the blackmailer’s note. “Well,
