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Maram groaned. “Those expressions reek of Amjad.”
Laylah giggled. “Discipline him for me, will you?”
“It’ll be my pleasure.” Maram chuckled. “Though I suspect it will be his, too. I think he misbehaves on purpose.”
Amjad pulled his wife deeper into his embrace. “Like any love-slave worth his salt, I live to provoke my next punishment.”
As Maram laughed her pleasure, Laylah prodded him. “Well? Any need for drastic action on my side?”
Before Rashid got his constricted throat to work, Amjad produced the phone his kabeer al yaweran—his head of royal guard—had handed him as they’d exited the hall.
He gave it to Laylah. “I thought you should have an audio memento of me kicking our family’s ass as I acquired for you the groom who’s going to save you from a fate worse than death.”
“You recorded the meeting?” Laylah exclaimed as she pounced on the phone and a chill assailed Rashid when she let him go. Then he once again heard the medley of abuse Amjad had exposed his family to. Amjad hadn’t even introduced Rashid’s proposal, had only pulverized everyone to their true size before announcing the upcoming marriage as a fact, and announcing that he’d be passing the royal decree documents for everyone to stamp with their house seal.
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