The Sheikh’s Instant Family (The Safar Sheikhs 2)

Amad could only sputter. The words didn’t even make sense. “But this is my account. I’m the sheikh prince of Amatbah, the investment source behind Calla’s designs—”

“She prefers to speak with Ms. Hammerman directly,” the receptionist replied, sounding bored.

“Ms. Frechard wouldn’t even have any designs to look at if it weren’t for me,” Amad said through gritted teeth. This was getting to be too much. All of it. And it needed to end now.

“Please communicate with Ms. Hammerman that she should call Ms. Frechard at her earliest convenience if she wishes to add you to the list of approved delegatees.”

And then the receptionist hung up.

Amad actually stared at his phone, aghast beyond belief, for what felt like an eternity. A maelstrom of emotions roiled through him, but outrage won out.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” he spat, and leaped to his feet. He was walking without even deciding where to go. He knew his next steps intuitively, guided by his rage. He’d go straight to the source of this mess. This ridiculous betrayal. This totally unnecessary meddling.

Amad’s mind raced, each step toward the royal tents pushing him deeper into his frustration. When he stormed into the tents, he saw Vanessa at Calla’s side, reviewing fabric. A handful of other women lingered nearby, working at sewing machines and performing other tasks. He strode over to Vanessa, grabbing her wrist.

“We need to talk,” he said in a low voice, trying to keep it measured. She must have heard the restraint in his tone, because she shot him a sharp look.

“About what?”

“About the fact that you locked me out of the most important deal in our tribe’s history.”

He sensed the room quieten when he said that. The attention of the other ladies sizzled over him.

“I didn’t lock you out,” Vanessa said, straightening. “I kept quiet because I wanted it to be a surprise. I wasn’t even sure if it would lead anywhere—"

“It’s not your place to get involved in these matters.” He couldn’t give a damn that everyone was watching now. Conversation had ground to a halt. They were officially making a scene. “This is my work. A man’s work.”

“But Amad—” Vanessa sputtered.

“There’s more at stake than you know. You can’t just walk in here and take over and think everything will fall into place,” he spat.

“What else is at stake?” Calla’s question surprised him. He swung around to look at her. It annoyed him that this was happening in public, but Vanessa had pushed him to this.

“The finances for the entire tribe,” Amad said, unable to keep the annoyance out of his voice. Even when speaking to Calla. “This is my territory. I have the most intimate knowledge of where the funding comes from, what’s keeping the tribe afloat.”

“And what’s keeping it afloat now?” Calla asked.

He gritted his teeth, holding her gaze. “The promise that this line will take off.”

A sharp, incredulous laugh erupt

ed from Calla. “Are you serious? The whole country is hanging on a promise?”

“Some things needed to be gambled in order to fund your venture,” Amad spat, not wanting to get into the details now. Like they would even understand.

“And what was gambled?” Vanessa asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I have it under control.”

“Amad, what was gambled?” Calla asked again.

He worked his jaw back and forth, looking between the two women. This could very well be the low point of his career.

“We needed cash for the fashion line,” he said, crossing his arms. “I cashed out the tech stocks.”

Calla cursed under her breath while Vanessa covered her mouth.

“Are you serious?” Calla asked.