Page 66 of The Billionaire's Timed Wife

Unless he’d gone after the wrong woman.

And what would a jealous husband do to avenge himself?

I know I’d stop at nothing if someone hurt Adeela.

“Rapes, beatings, abuse of underage girls,” he continues, while I fight to keep my face expressionless. “Parties on his yacht where some women were drugged and shared among his friends. With just that much, you can imagine there’s no shortage of people who would’ve hated him.”

I stand and walk to the window, turning my back while mentally cataloging the information, more ashamed than I’ve ever been in my life.

I never doubted Naim’sflexiblemorals, to say the least, but what I’m hearing now is something else entirely. My brother was a criminal who not only shouldn’t have ruled a country but for society’s sake, should’ve been behind bars.

Rapes? Drugging women and sharing them? Getting involved with minors?

Any one of those accusations would be enough to send my father straight to the hospital. Or the grave.

I have to tell him before the press does.

“Are these facts or rumors?” I ask.

“Facts buried by money, which eventually turned into rumors. Most of the men who attended your brother’s parties were as powerful as he was, so silencing the victims with hefty checks wasn’t hard. I’m not trying to sound insensitive, just realistic.”

“Go on.”

“As far as I could determine, your brother’s actions were random, targeting unprotected women. But that’s not the case with Mrs. Elina Lykaios, who, as the entire world knows, is married, and as far as we can tell, completely devoted to her husband.”

“So Elina Lykaios is the starting point of this whole mess?”

“As I said, we’ll never be sure, not considering the sheikh’s lifestyle. Who can tell where an enemy might come from? A man like your brother, with so many crimes behind him, would have to sleep with one eye open for the rest of his life. In his place, I’d have stayed well-protected inside my own country.”

But then he wouldn’t have been able to indulge his vile habits. Even as a sheikh, he could never have gotten away with committing a fraction of what I’ve just been told within Rheadur’s borders.

“He used to limit his travels to Europe,” I say.

“Yes, I noticed that in my investigation. He stayed mostly in port cities, where it was easier to host yacht parties. That’s why I say the reason he went to the United States was because of Lykaios’s wife. From what I gathered, your brother developeda kind of obsession with her, even after she was clearly living with the Greek man in America.”

“Do you have proof that once in the U.S., Naim had any contact with the Lykaios family?”

“Before I answer that, I want you to think aboutwhowe’re talking about.”

“Yes, I understand your point. Odin Lykaios is a billionaire and has as much power and money as my family.”

“Exactly, but he’s not just any billionaire. The man is considered a genius in security technology. Now think about this: how do you erase someone’s trail in New York City in the twenty-first century?”

“Impossible. There are cameras everywhere,” I say.

“Exactly. And yet, that’s what happened. We only know your brother was in the U.S., specifically in Manhattan, because of that one image of him leaving a hotel on the last night he was seen. After that, nothing. I couldn’t find out what happened to him or to any of his bodyguards. Not even phones connected to him or his staff were found.”

I’m not the kind of man who wastes time with insinuations, so I ask what he seems afraid to say aloud. “You’re telling me Odin Lykaios killed my brother?”

He rests his elbows on his knees. “I can’t state that for certain. But I am saying that Lykaios erased your brother from existence, as if he never lived. If there’s anyone capable of pulling that off, it’s him. There’s no trace, no phone logs, no email data, nothing linking the Greek to any action against your brother. But the complete lack of footage, from street or building cameras, tells me whoever made the sheikh disappear knew exactly what he was doing.”

“And what’s the next step?”

He hesitates, and I can already guess what he’s about to say.

“I could spend years taking your money, and the investigation still wouldn’t move forward. I don’t believe we’ll ever find him. But that’s not what’s making me hand over the case right now.”

“What, then?” I ask, though I already know the answer.