Looking out her bedroom window, Adira didn’t see the azure blue of the pool two stories beneath her, or the water spouting into the air from the lion’s head fountain. Nor did she see the vast desert sands just beyond the oasis in which her father’s home had been built… well, one of his homes. They split their time between this estate, where the horses were stabled, and the penthouse in Dubai. She wasn’t even aware of the tall walls that surrounded her family estate that were heavily manned by guards. Instead, as she finished getting ready for dinner, Adira tried to push back the darkness of once again feeling like a captive in her own home. The rare times she could escape watchful eyes were a true gift. Like today. Riding her prized horse through the dunes of the desert, with the air whipping against her face, gave her a rush that could never be explained in words, even by the greatest poet. It was a feeling one had to experience to truly understand; the sense of life and freedom such an act could give.

“You look so much like your mother,” her father said as he entered her room, snapping her out of her thoughts. “She was such a beautiful woman, as are you.”

Adira fastened the back of her diamond earring and turned from the window with a smile to greet her doting father. The man exuded power and class in his traditional white dishdash and headscarf, but always had a softness in his eyes when he looked at her.

“But please tell me you don’t plan on wearing that to dinner,” he added with a frown as his eyes scanned his daughter’s planned evening attire. The dress she wore was far from racy, in fact, it was quite conservative, with a soft pastel, flowered material that covered most of her body, including her ankles. “We are meeting with business associates, Adira. You know this.”

She sighed and struggled not to roll her eyes. “I’m aware of this, Father. But women my age do not always have to wear an abaya. Those days are fading.”

“It’s a matter of respect for our guests.”

“They are Russian, correct? So what do they care if I am dressed like a proper Arab woman?”

Her father crossed his arms against his chest and tried his best to give a stern look, but Adira could see right through it. Even though her father was one of the most feared men in the Middle East, he had nothing but a loving and gentle heart for her. “Why are you so headstrong?”

“I am nothing of the sort,” she said with a smile, balancing on one leg and then the other to put on her heels. “And even if I were, would you expect anything less? After all, look who is my father.”

Fadil chuckled. “Is that so? Well, your grandfather was not pleased with your little stunt on that horse of yours today. Showing off?”

Adira swallowed back the giggle building in the back of her throat. “Possibly.”

“If you continue to act reckless, he may take that horse away from you to teach you a lesson.”

“He will not, and you know it.”

“Adira…”

“Those men are just over-inflated wallets, and even larger egos. It’s good for them to see what they want, but cannot have,” she declared with satisfaction. It always gave her a sense of pride to show off her horse, Zephyr, knowing that he was by far the best stallion any of those men had ever seen, and was not, nor would he ever be, for sale. That horse had been hers from the moment of his birth and would always remain so.

“And that is what has your grandfather and I so concerned. Not once did you stop and consider that those men are not used to being told no. If something is not given freely, many of them will not hesitate to just take it. Your judgment sometimes worries us.” He sighed, walking across the antique Persian rug to sit down on the edge of her bed. “Maybe I have shielded you too much from the dangers of the world we live in.”

She glanced over her shoulder to see worry wash over her father’s face as he stared down at the intricate designs beneath his feet in contemplation. Did he really think her so naïve? Although her father had indeed kept her safe, provided whatever she needed and then some, he had not succeeded in truly shielding her from the harsh reality of the type of business he and her grandfather conducted. Yes, they bred and sold stallions. But that was very minor in comparison to the money laundering enterprise the Nazar family had run out of Dubai for decades.

She still remembered the day she overheard her grandfather on the phone order a man to be executed for betraying him. She was only eight and did everything she could for the next year to convince herself that she had heard him wrong—and had almost succeeded. But when she saw from afar, hidden behind a large column, her father pull out a pistol and shoot a man between his eyes, never flinching as the man crumpled to the ground in his own pool of blood, Adira knew there was so much more that lurked in the shadows of her home, and her childhood. It wasn’t that her father and grandfather were bad men. They just surrounded themselves with bad men, and they simply had to do what was necessary. Or at least that was the reasoning Adira told herself in order to chase away the nightmares that threatened to plague her during her entire upbringing.

“Your mother had such high hopes for you. She knew you would be special,” Fadil said, melancholy dripping off each of his words.

Adira walked over to where he sat and knelt before him, placing her hand on his knee. “And you did a wonderful job as my father.” She paused and smiled, making sure her eyes met his. “If I remember correctly, we have a celebration tomorrow night to honor what a wonderful job you did in raising me.”

He chuckled. “That was all you, my darling. You worked hard to earn your doctorate in psychology all on your own. I had nothing to do with it. I am so very proud to call you my daughter.” He took a deep breath and squeezed her hand. “Enough of this heart to heart,” he said with a wink. “We don’t want to be late. I have reservations at the Atlantis Palm Resort for 8:00.”

Adira groaned as she stood with a grimace. “Why must we always dine there?”

“Because our out-of-town guests enjoy the ambiance. Something about all the fish swimming around them as they carve into one. The sick irony of it, I suppose.” He laughed lightly as he made his way to the door.

Adira had grown to hate that restaurant with its larger than life aquarium acting as the backdrop, white tablecloths, the finest china and crystal, and pretentious diners all flashing their diamonds and jewels. Like any resort, tourists were all around. But these were not your typical tourists. No, these people had more money than they knew what do with. The popular underwater suites, which ran from five to fifteen thousand dollars a night, were not something the average middle-income family with two children could afford. So these tourists had high expectations, demanded, and floated about in a self-absorbed world. Everything about the resort ate at her soul, yet just like every other business meeting, she would attend with the most gracious of smiles and demeanor.

“Feeds into their egos even more,” she mumbled as she walked over to her dresser and pulled out a headscarf to at least cover her hair and meet her father halfway in his plea for tradition.

He noticed her small gesture and smiled warmly. “Thank you for understanding. You are so much like your mother in that way as well.” She took his arm and the two descended the winding staircase side by side, together and yet lost in their own thoughts.

The drive to the resort was not long but definitely eventful. The Nazar family were never permitted to go anywhere without security. And since she was Adira Nazar, daughter of Fadil and granddaughter of the infamous Hadi Nazar, freedom of solitude did not exist in her life. Several black SUVs led the way, as well as followed close behind. Strangers. There were always strangers all around. She had grown used to this fact and long ago gave up on trying to remember any of their names. The security detail seemed to rotate so often that, rather than getting attached to any of the men, she just tried to ignore that they were even there. It wasn’t always easy to do, especially as they walked into the lobby of the resort, escorted by several men scanning each and every inch of the place as they entered. There was no way not to draw attention to their presence, and if the resort’s guests didn’t already know who they were, it was just a matter of time until they would ask and find out. They were not famous like those American movie stars, but the Nazar family had more power in one small finger than all of the celebrities combined.

Being led to a table in the corner, backed up to a large piece of glass, Adira attempted to ignore all the eyes that stared toward their direction. She repeated a long time habit performed every time she walked into the room. With a soft smile on her face portraying all was well, she focused on the same large shark that swam amongst his prey. His grey-white skin was scarred from battles lost. His cold eyes and expressionless face mimicked that of an assassin. This shark exuded danger, yet not a single creature in the large tank of water feared him. Adira always found it fascinating that he never ate all the fish in one quick swoop. Why did he allow the fish to brush up against him? Why did he let the fish mingle within inches of his sharp teeth and do nothing about it? But at the same time, she also never understood the fish. How could they all swim with their enemy? Did they not fear for their lives? Did they not recognize that all he had to do was open his mouth and strike, and they would have no chance at all? Instant death. So why did the shark and the fish coexist as one? Adira could never figure out that answer no matter how often she tried.

These contemplations always helped ease the arrival and those first awkward introductions of each business dinner. By the time they sat and ordered their food, Adira would stop focusing on the shark and be able to play the part of the daughter of Fadil Nazar. Her calming routine always worked like a charm.

“So is it true what we hear?” the man sitting across from her asked in a thick Russian accent, “that you recently became a doctor?”

Adira didn’t need to say a word because her proud father answered for her. “She is. She just graduated with her doctorate and we are very proud of her. Dr. Nazar!”

“Well then, you should be out celebrating,” the Russian man said, “rather than sitting with all of us. Surely a woman of your age and beauty has much better things to do than dine with old men.”

Adira smiled warmly and dabbed a napkin at the corners of her mouth. “It is my pleasure to enjoy dinner with you. We are celebrating with my entire family tomorrow.” The thought of seeing everyone she cared for all at once made her smile even more. She could barely conceal her excitement. Other than her father and grandfather, she rarely had a chance to see the rest of her family as of late. Everyone was always so busy with their own lives and businesses.

The Russians gave a quick glance at each other and then gave smiles that almost oozed sincerity but didn’t quite manage to succeed. “That sounds wonderful. It is always nice to spend time with family. We were looking forward to meeting your grandfather. We were hoping that he would be at dinner tonight.”

Her father gave his own smile. “He sends his regrets. Some last minute business came up that needed his personal attention.”

The evening continued as every other business meeting did. Casual talk with hidden words hinting at the true purpose of the gathering. Adira had realized long ago that her attending these functions as her father’s guest was simply to disguise the meeting as a casual dinner between friends. It was never the case, however, and the conversation always became hushed in tones, blanketed in code words, and at times, laced with warning and threats. And just like every other time, Adira would focus on her surroundings and take in the marine life innocently swimming by. She’d watch schools of large angel fish swim within inches of the shark and again wonder at the dichotomy of their coexistence. Sometimes she would watch the diners and make up stories in her head about their lives and what brought them to Dubai. Regardless of what she would do, she had performed this dance more times than she could count, and had mastered every step, every dip, every twirl in order to pass the time.

Tonight did seem a bit different, however. The Russians appeared more stressed than other business guests her father had entertained, even awkward. The security detail also seemed to be more on edge, as if they sensed something. The air in the room almost sizzled with tension. From where, she couldn’t exactly pin point. But her gut screamed at her to listen, and although she tried to obey, everything on the surface appeared to be the status quo. Her father was his normal calm and charming self, but something did seem unusual in the way he watched these men. Despite his words, his smiles, she realized he didn’t care for them at all. She could see it in his eyes.

Even glancing around the room, it seemed like more people watched than just the odd curious tourist. Her skin felt tingly, as if an electric eel had touched the glass behind her, sending a faint current through the pane to caress her skin. It felt as if her every move was being studied. Taking the time to look at each and every table in the restaurant, her eyes eventually locked on a man who sat in the shadows with another, and instead of heat from an imagined source, chills ran down her spine. Where had she seen that man before? She couldn’t quite make out all of his features due to how the dim lighting of the room obscured her view, but something… there was something about him that she recognized. The Atlantis Palm Resort rarely had regulars—unless you counted the Nazars—so the fact that Adira felt she recognized a man, any man, scared her. She looked at her father, hoping he would pick up on her discomfort, but his attention was directed fully on the men at the table. Still alarmed, Adira looked over at the man in the shadows again and was surprised to find him and his table mate no longer there.

“Adira? Adira?”

When she felt her father’s hand on her arm, she snapped out of her deep thoughts and found the entire table looking at her. “Oh, I’m sorry. I was watching… the shark over there. He seems to always pull my attention toward his direction,” she tried to explain.

“I was just telling them that the yacht was the perfect place for your party tomorrow as the very name honors you,” her father said, leaning back in his chair and taking another sip of his wine.

She nodded as she wiped her sweaty palms on her lap. “Yes, my father named the yacht Adira.”

“Lovely name,” one man complimented.

“Yes, Adira is a beautiful name,” her father boasted. “It means mighty and strong. Just like my daughter.”

Swallowing back the lump in the back of her throat, Adira didn’t feel particularly mighty or strong at the moment. Forcing a smile in appreciation of her father’s praise, she decided her fear was all over nothing. Surely security would have noticed if something was wrong, or if they were being watched or followed. Many attempts had been made on their lives before, and never once had security failed them. She had to maintain her faith that they would always keep her and her family safe.