MY KILLER

CHAPTER 29

Escort?
He wanted me to be his escort? Did that bastard really know what being an escort meant or did it mean something else in Arabic.
To start with, the women were rude, very rude.
For when I finally agreed to be dressed by them, they threw me rudely into the bath and washed me with so much aggression, I could feel my almost healed skin pulling off, again.
Then again, I thought it was going to be how I had always imagined being dressed up like I had watched in the movies I was used to back in Nigeria, where the rich guy would strip the girl and clothe her in such expensive clothes, expensive enough to buy the poor girl's house and family and there'd still be enough money to buy the same thing for two other poor girls.

But it was different.
The bastard didn't disappoint at all.
The rack was all just for show.
I was dressed in a shorter maid's clothes, with a leggings to cover my bruised long legs and my head was tied with a different white hijab. I was adorned with a few accessories and it was at that moment I realized I hadn't had any on since leaving Nigeria. The earrings were simple and nice and the bangle was just perfect. I rejected the necklace though because I'd have to take off the pendant and after lying that I had gotten it from the Sultan himself, I was left with it.

Then after a little touch of makeup, I was ready.
But no matter how much they tried to force me, I refused to look at the mirror. I never wanted to ever look at a mirror again after everything I had been through.
As far as I was concerned, I was the ugliest girl ever to grace the earth.

Then I was escorted outside and a car was parked waiting for me. I went in and realized that excluding the driver, I was alone.
Didn't escort mean that we'd have to ride the same car?
This would have been the perfect time to kill him.
But again, I missed the chance.

Finally, we arrived a huge building used as a hall, an entertainment hall.
Luckily, I was on sneakers. It would have been almost impossible to walk if I had listened to those stupid women.

As, I looked around me, I was awed at the sight of so many well dressed and obviously noble people walking into the hall. Some of them looked at me with disdain wondering how a maid was allowed to walk on the same floor with them.
I ignored them and kept looking around me at the ones that would probably be Al Sa'id's as Khaled had said.
I sighed finally when I was done drooling over the beautiful women, some of whom did not cover their hair. None of them was wearing a kaftan, they were all on Western dinner gowns.
And I wanted to again be beautiful, to look like one of these women and walk in expensive clothes to places only very few important people were invited to.
Then I sighed again as I took the heavy steps and walked into the hall, past the guards who easily let me in without an invitation after they saw what I was putting on.

The music was booming; Arabian music. The lights were dim of some sorts and while some people were standing and exchanging pleasantries, others were seated and sipping from their wines.
Then I saw them and recognized them immediately. They were the general and stable servants. At the far end of the room, I spotted Farah and the girls attending to some of the guests. The general servants were also pretty busy and no one seemed to notice my presence.

I cursed under my breath.
Why the hell were people I knew here and worse, dressed smartly in black long skirts, white shirts and neckerchiefs worn around their necks. They looked so much better compared to me that looked more like a manga character brought to life.
Why did that bastard make me wear this ridiculous dress.

I turned quickly in an attempt to avoid them and bumped into someone.

"What the hell?" She looked at me in disgust. She was one of the beautiful, heavily dressed guest.

But I couldn't speak.
I clasped my hands together and bowed gesturing at her to forgive me.
But again, she didn't understand.
And before she spoke, I quickly put my hands on my face. I was really tired of all the slaps and I didn't want to take any chances.