The Rich Life

4

I waited outside at Al-Mahara restaurant wearing a crimson velvet cocktail dress with long sleeves and black heels. To distract myself I told a few of my friends where I was. They told me that Saif's family was practically exploding everywhere, especially at my parents.

James told me there were whisperings across people from very high up that if I valued my life, I should never step foot in England again. My chest tightened when he said those ominous words.

My brothers were searching the entirety of London for me. If they found me, I would be dead. My Mother especially was telling everyone that I was no longer considered family anymore and they told my friend: "She could be dead in a ditch and I couldn't care less. Alhamdulilah (thank God) I have 3 strong sons,"

Was that how much I meant to them now? A dead body, abandoned. My Mother preferred all of my brothers over me. They were allowed to do whatever they want: Get drunk, screw every girl in London, Shop in Harrods by themselves whilst I was caged inside, stuck in padded and perfumed prison, living like a virtual slave. Apparently Dad was the only one who cared if I was safe. A mean and bitter part of my heart was proud. Good. Let them think I was dead. I was worthless to them anyway, until I was forced to marry and then I became the most valuable possession to them. I shut my phone, oddly happy.

I saw Maribelle and Adam. She was dressed in a black dress with diamonds at her throat. He wore a black suit, cut to perfection. They were accompanied by a tall man with messy dark blonde hair. He had stubble on his chin and startingly green eyes. He wore a charcoal grey suit and had brilliant white teeth. He was laughing in a sort of way that made me want to laugh too. He was a few inches taller than Adam but weedier. Maribelle looked annoyed but seemed like she didn't mind. This man seemed to carry laughter and jokes with him.

"Bang on time mate. So you're the British girl," He said in a truly dreadful brit accent. It sounded like an Australian. I cringed.

"Stop scaring her Anthony. This is Amara. Amara, this is Anthony," Adam announced. I shook his hand politely. I met his eyes and they were twinkling with so much happiness. This idiot has so much serotonin that I'm going to kill myself.

We went inside and the waiter seemed to practically trip over himself when he saw Adam. We were taken to a table and I tried to take in my surroundings. It was subtly lit with warm lighting. Al-Mahara was a seafood restaurant with a huge wall to ceiling aquarium filled with tropical fishes and giving the entire restaurant an underwater vibe. We sat next to the tank and a little angelfish swam by as our menus were being handed out.

"I'll have the pasta and truffles," Anthony said, throwing his menu down.

"I'm having the salt-baked sea bass with all the stuff it comes with," Maribelle was sitting next to Adam but I was opposite him. My eyes nearly popped out of my sockets when I saw the price of Maribelle's option. 980 dhirams was basically £220. The hell? You can tell by the look on her husband's face he was pissed off. This was the most expensive thing on the menu. His jaw clenched. I don't think it was the cost. It was more about the fact she seemed so...ungrateful, relishing in her money.

"I'm having the beef tenderloin," Adam said through gritted teeth. God, he looked so pissed that he looked like he was going to burst a fuse. I was going to have the wagyu steak. We all ordered bottled water. They wanted to get drinks later. The waitress who was taking our order kept giggling. I wish she would just SHUT THE FUCK UP. She walked away.

"You know what, to liven the mood, I'm going to play my kazoo and in honour of Amara I'm going to play God Save the Queen, the freestyle version. I'll take requests later," He winked. I was horrified, thinking he was joking. Until he pulled a plastic green kazoo out of his breast pocket. What the fuck. I don't trust his abilities to play God Save the Queen on the fucking kazoo. Especially "Freestyle". I covered my eyes with my fingers.