The trio got into the elevator. Sonya looked at herself in the mirror as they ascended to the top floor. She had raccoon eyes and her hair was disheveled.
She hardly recognized herself. Maybe she’d put on too much makeup, or maybe it was something else. Her pupils looked so huge and black.
“Ding ding.”
They reached the penthouse.
Sonya stood still in the middle of the elevator, so al Hamar gave her a soft tap on the ass. A chill ran up her spine and nausea churned in her stomach as she moved forward and nearly stumbled in her high heels.
They walked across the patio. Once Halim opened the door of the suite, Sonya scurried toward her room. As she was shutting the bedroom door behind her, it stopped short.
She looked through the cracked open door and saw two beady black eyes peering back at her. The door began to open again, though she pushed against it.
“Let me see your room, just for a minute,” the sheikh said in a low, greasy voice as he slipped his hand through the door and placed it atop Sonya’s, which was gripping the doorknob.
“Sir, please. She’s tired,” Halim said from several feet away.
Al Hamar slid his slimy fingers off Sonya’s hand, leered at her, smiled the evilest smile she’d ever seen, nodded, and let her close the door.
She locked it, staggered to the bed, flopped face down into a mountain of pillows, and began to sob.
Meanwhile, the two men sat down at the coffee table and spoke.
“Halim, you have never refused me a girl. Why now? You know I had my eye on her at Sultan’s, and you never introduced me. Yet you let her sit and drink and giggle with that young Russian punk and that greaseball Italian. Now you brought her all the way here, for what? Is she yours? Are you getting romantic?”
“No, no. She’s a good assistant, smart. I know she’s pretty, but I couldn’t sell her. She’s a virgin.”
“A virgin…? You dirty dog. You’re just driving up the price. You think I’m a fool? She works in a damn strip club. And we both know there are no virgins left in America.”
“Ha ha. I don’t blame you for not believing me. But I sent her to our friend, Dr. Karim. He’s proven it scientifically. She’s intact. Ask him yourself. You know he’s not too strict about patient confidentiality…”
Halim laughed at his own words. But the sheikh did not. He was too busy lusting, now more than ever, after the girl in the next room.
“Okay, I will call him tomorrow. But I believe you. She does have that certain quality, a hint of innocence. Is she a minor? You know I can’t resist those.”
“No, not this time. She’s twenty. I think it almost makes a virgin more special when they’ve waited that long, instead of just being young, don’t you agree?”
Again, al Hamar was silent for a moment instead of answering the question. He licked his lips like a hungry dog.
“Okay, how much?” he said, reaching into the inner pocket of his tailored jacket and pulling out a check book.
“You know I prefer cash, my friend. But like I said, she’s not for sale. I think she’ll make an excellent assistant - and she would make a fine wife, too - so I’ll …”
The sheikh raised his finger to his lips. His eyes were bloodshot and his eyelids hung heavy, yet he stared at Halim unblinkingly.
“One million dollars, cash, as soon as I break her hymen. And you know, I don’t rent girls. I buy them, and do with them as I like until I’m bored.”
“Now that’s an offer I can’t refuse. We have a deal.”
The two men shook hands.
The sheikh knew he'd been suckered, but he had inherited a billion dollar oil fortune, so the money didn’t matter, and when he had his heart (or better said, his dick) set on something, he would do anything to get it.
Halim showed al Hamar to the door, then went into his room. He looked in the bathroom mirror.
“Works every time,” he said to himself with a smirk.