"Why are you doing this? You know I can't stay without you, Hamza. Please don't leave me."
She clutched the cell phone as if it were a lifeline. Her voice trembled with emotion but she tried not to cry.
There was silence on the other end, followed by a heavy sigh. "Jas, I'm sorry. I love you but you know I'm a married man." Regret and helplessness marked his tone. "This was never meant to be a permanent thing." The line clicked dead.
She swallowed and fought back the tears, steeling herself against the tearing pain but it was futile. She felt her world crashing down all around her and the depths of hell welcomed her once more, flames licking her tortured soul greedily.
No. Please, no. Don't leave me. You're all I have.
Sobs broke out from her throat and she sat on the cold, hard floor of the empty room, the phone still clutched in her hand, digging painfully into her palm.
Darkness. All around.
The only light was the image of his dear face. But after a frozen moment, it faded quickly, taking her barren heart with it.
****
The Sweet-talker
8
Milan, Italy.
Present day.
After two days of searching, Jasmine still had not found an apartment that she liked. It was not that there was anything wrong with the apartments she had seen already but she simply hated the idea of city life.
"What about somewhere outside of the city?" Alex suggested. "Armaan just finished building his property in Pavia and he's throwing a party this Saturday. We could go enjoy the party and look for your house as well. What do you say?"
She was quiet. A part of her wanted to stay as far away from Armaan Qureshi as possible. He was far too close to her past for comfort. But another part of her felt like teaching him a lesson for making her feel so helpless in the elevator two days ago. The slap didn't seem like a fair enough punishment.
They were sitting in the balcony of Alex's hotel room, having breakfast as the bright morning sun bathed them in a warm glow. "It's okay, Alex. You go to the party. I'll just ask Niuni to show me some place outside the city." She sipped her coffee while flipping through a house catalogue. "I also have to prepare for those book tours for London and America."
"Come on, Jas. What's there to prepare for? Armaan asked me to bring you along. Please."
Oh, did he now? That was bold of him. Apparently, the slap hadn't been enough.
Jasmine considered it for a while and then gave a shrug. "Alright, Tory. Have it your way."
~~~~
The property that Armaan had designed and built had cost him a fortune but it was well worth it. Nestled in the Milan countryside, it consisted of eight bedrooms, a gym, a large indoor pool, a dining hall, living room, library, state of the art kitchen, a spectacular lawn and garden with an enviable landscape and a soccer field. The Italians loved their soccer. And he was as much an Italian as he was an American. The Amiran was nowhere to be seen.
He had hired an organizer for the party. Giselle Dolceh. She and her staff were taking care of everything this weekend. And boy, did she know how to take care of everything. It was Friday night and Armaan was lounging in the indoor pool area, watching Giselle make some laps. She moved gracefully, her sleek, blond hair plastered to her head and her long body shimmering in the water.
His phone shrilled in the silence of the pool area, interrupting his enjoyment and he cursed. "Yes, Piero? What is it?" he snapped at his gardener.
"Sir, I was wondering if I could make a maze out of the hedges in the side lawn."
What the hell?
"And this couldn't have waited till morning because...?"
"Er...I was working on the garden at the moment and I thought..."
Man, didn't the guy have a life? He spent all his time in the garden since Armaan had hired him. Not that he was complaining. Piero was gifted. "No. No maze,' he said. "I want something different. I'll let you know tomorrow."
"Si. Buona sera, Mr. Qureshi."
"Good night, Piero."
Armaan turned his phone off and went back to admiring Giselle's hot body. He was expecting certain friends at the moment otherwise he would have done more than just admire.
"Bro. How's it going?"
Armaan looked up from his ogling and smiled a greeting, swinging out of the pool chair to embrace Alex. "I didn't hear you arrive," he said before his gaze landed on Jasmine. "Miss. Khan."
She nodded at him. "Mr. Qure..." She stopped and cleared her throat, then looked away. "Your place is really impressive," she said instead. "Everything's so...large."
He narrowed his eyes at her and she smirked a little.
"You guys must be hungry," he murmured. "Alex, why don't you get settled in before we start on dinner? Hope you don't mind showing my guest to her room. It's the large, pink one."
~~~~
The room Alex showed her to was indeed done in a rosy pink theme. The curtains were pale pink and matched the luxurious rug. The bed was a four poster and consisted of a pink gossamer canopy and satin and silk covers. Even the dresser and the ensuite bathroom were done in pink. Jasmine finished unpacking and was standing there taking it all in when a knock sounded on her door. She walked over to open it and found Armaan casually leaning against the wall outside, looking unfairly gorgeous in a navy blue t-shirt and jeans.
"What?" she asked him arrogantly.
He gave her a beautiful smile and responded amicably.
