Twenty-five million seemed a paltry sum to request from a man with unfathomable wealth. Further, they’d kidnapped a queen. They’d taken a big risk, seemingly for no reason.
“And if I don’t deliver as you request?” he asked.
“Then you will never see your queen again. And you will lose your heir.”
Both sentences sent waves of shock through Wasim. How could this man—this stranger—possibly know that Imani was pregnant when she’d only told Wasim yesterday? Her pregnancy was to be kept quiet for now. Had this person seen the ultrasound she carried in her purse to surprise her Zamibian family with, or had Imani said something to him? And how dare he threaten the two of them?
A new emotion replaced the fear. Anger.
Wasim straightened to his full, regal height. “Do you know who you are speaking to? I am your king. She is your queen.”
“Yes, you are my king. But I have your queen. What will you do to get her back?”
“I will do whatever it takes to get her back. Everything in my infinite power,” Wasim snarled. “I will get your money and deliver it to the place and at the time that you request. And you will deliver her to me safe and sound. No harm will come to her or my unborn child. If either of them is hurt in any way, pray that the authorities find you before I do. If there is a single scratch or bruise on Imani’s body, or follicle of her hair removed because of your hands, I will rain down my wrath upon you and everyone you love—here and abroad. I will destroy you and everything you know and love. You will rue the day that you ever took from His Excellency King Wasim ibn Khalid al-Hassan. Your people will know my name and feel my wrath forgenerations to come!”
For tense seconds, there was silence on the line, and then it went dead.
Wasim glared at his head of security. “Get everyone in here.Now!”
* * *
The second securityteam discovered Imani’s guards on the roadway to the airport. They sent video and photos of the area to Wasim. He saw the two vehicles with the flattened tires, as well as her limo. He saw the shattered glass inside and outside of the limo.
How frightened she must have been in that situation. Eight men—nine if he counted the driver—and still she had been taken hostage by a bunch of amateurs on horseback with handmade poison darts. It didn’t matter to him that the captors were also armed. His guards were professionals and should have been able to handle them.
Wasim paced Imani’s apartment. He’d come in here to feel closer to her. Her perfume idled in the air, and all the little touches that she’d brought to the apartment caught his eye—a bookshelf stocked with African classics and literature she’d read as a child and the tapestries that hung on the wall. The patterns showcased the artistic talent of the women whose products she promoted to help them achieve economic independence.
The ransom had already been counted and placed into sacks, and now they waited to hear from the kidnappers about when and where to deliver the funds so they could formulate a plan to arrest them as soon as they picked up the money. But Wasim was restless, and he couldn’t simply wait. There had to be something he could do. He wandered into Imani’s bedroom, looking for what he didn’t know. Something, anything that could help him help her.
Then it dawned on him that she had been enthralled by the Australian’s security location gadget. So enthralled that she had accepted his offer to beta test the technology. Was she wearing any jewelry that used one of Heath’s devices? He distinctly remembered her wearing at least one piece that contained the tracking device because she had mentioned a glitch when her head of security had tried to find her with it on.
Wasim rushed to her jewelry closet on the far side of the room hidden behind a panel and entered the code. As soon as he stepped inside, the lights came on in the room. He rummaged through the drawers, lifting out bracelets and necklaces heavy with precious stones. There was so much—including newer pieces sitting next to heirlooms. How could he tell which one was missing—or if it was gone at all?
Wasim stopped. He had to slow down and think. Imani was organized. She would keep them separate. Frantically, he pulled open each draw and finally found what he was looking for. Several pieces in a drawer with Heath’s business card resting on top of them. An opal bracelet, the matching necklace, and—the ring! The ring was gone.
Was she wearing it?
He whipped out the video of her lying on the dark cot and saw the ring on her hand. Yes!
But since the program was in beta, there were bugs. With encryption and other issues, it might not work at all. He didn’t have time to work with his security team and hers to figure all this out. Every minute, every second counted while Imani and his child were out there somewhere. He’d have to go to the source.
He picked up the business card and called the handwritten number on the front, assuming it was a private line Heath had given to Imani to reach him directly.
“Hello?” The man’s nasal voice sounded tired and a bit disoriented. There was a seven-hour time difference, and Wasim had probably woken him up.
He rushed through an explanation and emphasized how important it was to keep everything he’d shared confidential. He ended with, “If you could get this program up and running by tomorrow morning and find her, I will pay you an obscene amount of money.”
He named a figure and Heath gasped.
“I’ll get everything up and runningtonight,” he promised.
27
Imani took the cup of water from the man who came in to check on her. This was the second time he’d been in here since she woke up from the poison they’d shot into her. Both times he’d been very kind, apologetic, and downright deferential. He had offered her food, which she declined because she simply didn’t have an appetite.
She handed him back the cup. “Why am I here? What is it that you want?”
He refused to answer with a shake of his head and walked out without saying a word. The lock engaged with a loud click, and she blew out a frustrated breath.
