The Shiek's Kiss - Introduction
The Billionaire's Club
Mandy’s story…
“And the winner is…!” The teacher’s voice rang out, cutting through the anticipation that hung heavy in the air. The room held its breath as all eyes turned to the podium. “Mandy Sullivan!”
The eruption of applause threatened to drown out the world, but amidst the deafening noise, Mandy stood frozen, her heart heavy with a bittersweet ache. With closed eyes, she whispered a silent, “Thank you, Dad,” feeling his absence keenly in this moment of her triumph.
As the applause swelled around her, Mandy took hesitant steps forward, the weight of her father’s absence a palpable burden upon her shoulders. With a forced smile, she ascended the stage, the congratulatory gestures of those around her feeling hollow in the absence of his presence.
Principal Logan’s congratulatory words barely registered as Mandy accepted the scholarship “check”, her gaze fixed on the empty space where her father should have stood. She found solace in her mother’s smile, yet it couldn’t fill the void left by her father’s absence.
Forcing back tears, Mandy pressed on, the bright lights of the news cameras a stark reminder of the momentous occasion she experienced alone. Clutching the fake, cardboard placard in place of her scholarship money, Mandy felt a surge of gratitude mixed with sorrow for the one person who should have been there to share it with her.
As she returned to her seat, her mother’s whispered reassurance pierced through the veil of grief, offering a glimmer of comfort amidst the overwhelming emotions. “He’s here, honey. He’s watching.”
Those words threatened to break the emotional dam she had built, but Mandy refused to let her tears betray her. With a determined resolve, she composed herself, the weight of her father’s unseen presence both a painful memory as well as a source of strength as she faced the remainder of the painful reminder of the love that would forever endure.
Zahir’s story…
“What about…?” fifteen-year-old Zahir began, his curiosity piqued, but his father’s hand on his shoulder halted his question mid-flight.
“You have to trust in your staff, son,” his father counseled, his tone patient yet firm. “If you don’t trust them to do their job, find new staff.”
Zahir nodded, though internally he harbored doubts. Yet, his father was a masterful leader, and his wisdom carried weight.
As the meeting adjourned, Zahir trailed after his father, mirroring his steps. “There’s a dinner tonight to introduce the new Ambassador to Indara,” his father announced.
Zahir grimaced inwardly, the prospect of another stuffy formal affair hardly appealing. Yet, he recognized it as a necessary part of his education.
“Choosing Ambassador Hasif for his military prowess was a strategic move, wasn’t it?” Zahir inquired as they navigated towards their next appointment.
“Absolutely,” his father affirmed. “He displayed remarkable ingenuity on the battlefield. I believe he’ll bring that same creativity to forging alliances and resolving diplomatic issues between Sidrina and Indara.” With a decisive gesture, he emphasized, “Surround yourself with capable, intelligent individuals, son, and success will inevitably follow.”
Their pace slowed as they neared the conference room. In a hushed aside, his father added, “And choose a good woman for your wife, that’ll solve a lot of other problems.” His mother’s eye-roll didn’t escape Zahir’s notice as she received her husband’s kiss.
“You’re late,” she chided, then turned to Zahir, embracing him tightly. “And you’re sprouting like a beanstalk.”
Zahir couldn’t help but tease, “Perhaps you’re just shrinking, Mother.”
She gasped in mock outrage. “You little imp!” Then, pulling him close, she whispered, “You’re not going to leave me to suffer through Ambassador Hasif’s droning monologues alone tonight, are you?”
Zahir grinned, silently commiserating with his mother’s sentiment.
