When she raised her head, Abdul was still staring at her. Aziza told herself to relax. He couldn’t see inside her mind. His gaze shifted to Naima, and her blood chilled.
The lust in his eyes was unmistakable.
She hid her disgust, praying he wouldn’t act on his base nature. He looked like a man who wouldn’t deny himself anything he wanted.
Abdul couldn’t seem to make himself look away. His intensity made Aziza’s insipid lunch almost come back in the wrong direction.
He pointed to Hamid, then motioned to Naima.
Aziza exchanged a worried glance with Naima as her stomach plummeted.
Chapter Eight
The cool air-conditioning was exactly what Ryan needed to de-stress, never mind that he was still on Aziza’s trail. He now sat inside Encounters with Bashir. Although it was the middle of the week, the place was hopping. The décor looked like something out of an IKEA store, and the crowd included a mixture of races, which wasn’t surprising. Durabia’s capital city was a metropolis that attracted people from all corners of the world. The standard of living was good, and professionals came in droves, seeking opportunities to advance their life goals.
“I think I’m turning into an old man,” Ryan muttered. “This crowd is unreal.”
Beside him, Bashir sipped from a bottle of water while he scanned the lower level of the club. “And it is like this most days of the week.”
Across from him, Alejandro Reyes—called Dro by his fellow Kings—tapped a finger against his glass of soda water. “It’s a jungle.”
He, too, focused on the floor below them. Ryan was interested in one of the bartenders, Jahani Bahar. After interviewing the man Aziza’s coworker mentioned, Ryan was unsettled. Akbar seemed to be open and honest, but there was something about his eyes. He wouldn’t look at Ryan for more than a few seconds at a time.
Shaz had asked Dro, the crisis management expert on the board of the Kings of the Castle, to make the trip to Durabia a priority. If anyone could bring some clarity to the situation, this man would. That was the assurance Shaz provided. Daron, a security and technological expert, would follow in another twenty-four hours.
Dro had landed an hour ago. They had a secure tele-conference on his way from the airport and agreed to meet and survey the activities at Encounters. If this was where Aziza disappeared, then it stood to reason that she wouldn’t have been the first or last woman to fall victim to whatever scam was in play.
A disturbance below pulled Ryan from his thoughts. A Black woman got up from her seat at a table with two young men, who looked like natives. She spat some words at them, then with her drink in hand, she marched to another seat a few feet away.
The men she left behind sat with their heads together, deep in conversation. After a moment, they gestured to the bartender, Jahani, then looked in her direction. He nodded once, and by the time Ryan focused on her again, another man stood at her table. He took the seat when she waved a hand toward an empty chair.
“What has you so interested?” Dro asked, training his dark-brown eyes in the same direction.
Bashir’s gaze followed, and he leaned forward to see better.
“I’m not sure if it’s something or nothing, but that woman left these two guys over here.” Ryan pointed with his chin to where the men watched the same female as if they were security personnel. “And no sooner does she land than another man is homing in on her. Almost like it’s a setup.”
“Why the suspicion?” Despite the doubtful note in Dro’s voice, he hadn’t taken his attention off the woman, who shot to her feet. She stumbled and put a hand to her head before moving away from the table.
The man followed.
Ryan and Dro exchanged a knowing look and stood at the same time.
“What do you need me to do?” Bashir asked, getting to his feet.
“Watch the bartender,” Ryan said over his shoulder as they headed downstairs. “If he moves, you’re his shadow.”
On the ground floor, Ryan made a beeline for the woman, who was unsteady on her feet but continued moving toward the entrance.
“I’ll watch her,” Ryan said, leaning toward Dro to be heard over the latest Rihanna release.
“Those two knuckleheads are mine.” Dro’s dimples flashed in a sharkish grin.
Ryan followed the woman dressed in a snug wraparound dress, but kept his distance to see if his suspicions would play out as expected.
She left the club and walked across the sidewalk as if she wasn’t sure of her destination.
The man who’d been sitting at her table slid up beside her and cupped her elbow. When she tried to escape his grip, he held on tighter and pulled a fob out of his pocket, which he used to unlock a car further up the sidewalk.
Ryan took it as his cue to move, and eased up on the woman’s other side.
Alarm spread over her face when their eyes met. Hers were out of focus and her pupils dilated. The traffic and the persons passing them on the sidewalk served to make her more confused.
“Do you know this man?” Ryan asked.
“N-no—”
“She’s coming with me,” the man with thick brows and a husky voice growled. “My car is over here.”
“Think again.” Ryan glanced at the woman, whose weight now rested on him. She seemed disoriented, which was evidence of what he thought the men had been trying to achieve.
A frown darkened the man’s face. “But—”
“You have a problem?” Dro asked from behind him, raising his voice above the music coming from the club.
“This man needs to mind his own business. The woman is my friend. We were going—”
“What is her name?” Ryan challenged.
He shuffled his feet and huffed, “Uh, her name is Theresa.”
“What’s your name?” Ryan asked gently, to avoid startling the woman in his arms.
“Carol,” she whispered. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Wrong
