(SM) Owns twilight.
(CozItRunsInMyBlood) Owns the plot.
(RobzBeanie) Is a lifesaver and beta this.
(GrandeDame) Is my soul-mate and per-reader.
Chapter 1
Isabella Marie
Working late again, the whole building was almost empty. I think it
was only me and the security guys there – it was after nine PM after all.
"Look who's here!"
The voice I'd longed to hear for what seemed like forever called
out, forcing me to stop my rapid tapping on the keyboard of my laptop and to
look up and away from the screen to where it was coming from.
"Jasper!"
I jumped up from my seat and ran into his arms, hugging him tightly
and squealing in delight when he picked me up off the floor and spun me around,
forcing my legs to fly in the air as I lifted them up, an act that was caused
by my excitement to finally be able to see him face to face and not through a stupid
webcam.
"Princess." He put me down and kissed my hair, hugging me
once more before pulling back a few inches to look at me. "I've missed you
so much," he smiled.
"Loser!" I said, punching him playfully in the chest.
"If that was true you wouldn't have stayed away this long without seeing
your little sister." I scowled at him, lips in a tight line, hands on my
hips and all.
"Ah, I know, I know. And I'm so sorry about it, Sweetie. But
you know it was out of my hands," he sighed.
I did know it was out of his hands. It had been like that since my
parents passed away last year when our private jet crashed with them onboard,
almost crashing Jasper's and my world along with it.
It wasn't easy for us to go on. Our parents were unlike any other
parents in the world; they were the best mom and dad anyone could ask for, even
better. There was nothing –absolutely nothing – we asked for and couldn't have.
Well, there was nothing that we didn't already have anyway; we had everything
and a bit more. And in just one minute they were gone. It took us a long time to
accept it and move on with our lives, with Jasper and I having to take care of
everything they’d left behind, a heavy weight that was formed in the shape of
one of the biggest exporting and transporting companies in the United States of
America.
I was barely twenty-one and Jasper was only twenty-four when we
took over managing our company, having to get everything back on track since it
had almost fallen apart when we neglected it for the two months we spent unable
to get to the stage of mentioning their names without crying our souls out.
It wasn't easy. It was a really hard job to take care of all of
that with my English major and Jasper's in history, which we weren't even able
to finish since managing the company took all of our time.
"I know." It was my turn to sigh. "Come and sit
down, I want details about everything." I dragged him by the hand to sit
on the black leather sofa that was across from my desk.
He let out a long breath when he was comfortable on the couch, unbuttoning
his suit jacket and putting his arm over the back of the couch, moving slightly
to face me as I sat with my legs underneath me, already barefoot and
jacket-less since the moment all of the other employees went home. "What
do you want to know?" he asked.
"Hello! Everything, Dude!" I told him. "And please,
I don't want to hear anything about work."
"It was good, Bella. Really good, actually. A little hot, but
the people were very nice, and very kind," he said with a nod and a smile.
It was only when he spoke those words that I noticed the slight tan
covering his features. It was really a strange sight, since I was so used to
seeing him with the very pale skin that we’d both inherited from our mother
along with the bright blue eyes and blond locks.
I couldn't help but think Jasper was lying to me about the people
part. He knew I wasn't very comfortable with him going to the Middle East. I'd
heard all of my life that Arabs weren't very easy to deal with, let alone
Arabian Muslims. I couldn't remember one time that Islam was mentioned in front
of me and the word 'Terrorism' didn't flash in my mind.
Jasper must've felt my discomfort so he changed the subject
immediately. ''The food alone was great, my God! I can't even begin to tell you."
When he saw the smile of excitement that decorated my face, he went on and on
about the safe subject that starred so many kinds of food and drinks along with
the beauty of the country itself.
I'd missed it so much, to have him sitting with me and talking for
hours like we were doing now. My heart was dancing in joy because I was finally
feeling his presence after a long six months of absence.
"And, I, uh – I met someone," he said almost shyly.
That was another subject I wasn't very fond of: Jasper's lifestyle.
My brother wasn't a player, per se, but he’d known a lot of women over the
years. Our parents had tried their best to tell us how wrong it was and to wait
for The One – that it would pay off in the end when we met our God and would be
rewarded for our good deeds. Jasper didn't listen, not so much anyway.
However, the look in his eyes told me that it was different this
time, that it might really be that thing our parents told us we’d find at some
point: The One.
"I'm pretty sure you met lots of ones," I teased, which made
him chuckle and shake his head.
"Okay then, I met a girl."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, she must be really special for you to mention her,"
I pointed out.
"She is," he smiled. "Marie, I–I fell in love."
My eyes almost bulged out of my skull. "Get out!" I said
loudly, and he chuckled.
"It's for real."
"Oh, my God!" I gushed. "Jasper, this is wonderful.
So wonderful."
"And, uh- …"
"What?"
"I–I'm getting married."
"Shut up!" I screamed in disbelief and delight at the
same time.
"I am."
"Oh, my God! Oh, my God!" I squealed, throwing myself in
his arms, hugging him and kissing his cheeks like crazy. The happiness I felt
for him was beyond words, I couldn't even begin to explain.
"That is the best news. Ever," I told him; my mouth
almost hurt from too much smiling.
"I knew you'd be happy for me."
"Of course I am," I replied. "Wow! I can't believe
you met the girl of your dreams on that trip. Is she one of the staff?"
"Uh, no. She's, uh – she's a princess."
"Oooh! So you fell in love and suddenly I'm not your princess
anymore but your fiancée is, huh?" I pouted playfully.
"No, you'll always be my princess, Sweetie. But, uh, she's a
real princess, you know, royal one, the daughter of the king."
I frowned. For a moment I thought Jasper had somehow gone to the
United Kingdom at some point in the past few months, but immediately remembered
that they had a queen and not a king. Then suddenly realization hit me.
"What?"
It couldn't be.
"Marie, she's a very sweet girl, so nice and tender. You'll
fall in love with her in seconds."
"An Arab?"
"If you'd just meet her and get to know h-"
"An Arab, Jasper? Are you frigging kidding me?! You're
marrying an Arab?"
"Marie, listen to me." He took the both of my hands in
his. "Love knows no boundaries; it hits you when it feels right, and being
with her just feels right."
My bottom lip was trapped between my teeth and my frown deepened as
I looked down and away from his face, trying to let his words sink in, but it
was just so hard to take.
I shook my head in a failed attempt to shake my disapproving
thoughts away. It was his life after all, not mine, but his safety and
happiness meant too much for me not to care about their presence in said life,
and I wasn't sure if a weak Arabian woman could do that for him.
"She makes you happy?" I whispered the question.
"Very."
I nodded my head and offered him a small smile.
"Tell me she's Catholic at least," I pleaded, looking
into his eyes, eyes that failed to hide the truth from me when they were
lowered to look away from mine.
"You've got to be kidding me, Jasper!" I said a bit
loudly.
"She – She's not Christian, Marie."
What on earth?!
"Excuse me? What do you mean she's not Christian?"
That's just not right.
He kept staring at the floor.
"Oh, my God! She can't be what I think she is, can she?"
I asked in shock. I shouted another 'Oh, my God' when he kept his head
lowered and avoided eye contact.
I was mad. Really, really mad.
"A Muslim, Jasper? Seriously? A terrorist?"
"She's not a terrorist. Don't speak of her that way, you don't
even know her," he snapped.
"Wow! Really? Because as far as I know Arabs do nothing but
kill others – and each other as well!"
"How did you even come to believe that, huh?"
"I've heard about it all of my life!" I defended.
"Are you being serious right now, Marie? Heard about it? Can
you even hear yourself? You've never met one, not a single one. Yet you're so
okay with judging them, even accusing them of being things they are not."
"How wonderful! They’ve brainwashed you!"
"Stop it!" he yelled, shocking me with the unfamiliar tone
in his voice that he never spoke to me with. "I'm sick of your shallow
thoughts. You've always believed that without any clue if it was true or not,
and absolutely nothing to put your hands on in those thoughts."
"I can go on for years with proof that Arabs are nothing but
anima-"
"Watch your mouth, Marie, I won't be taking any of this, not
anymore.''
"For her?"
"Not only for her, for the months I spent there and saw
nothing from them but pure kindness and generosity. It's only fair to speak about
them based on the facts I witnessed with my own eyes, not just gossip I’ve
heard."
I think it was the very first time I knew what it meant to be
shocked into silence, because the words wouldn't form on my tongue no matter
how much I wanted to let them out and free. I kept opening my mouth and closing
it, not able to utter one word.
I didn't know if his words were true or not. I was well educated
and a smart person; I had an open mind. I refused to think that I was racist or
anything like that, because I really wasn't, but when it came to Arabs and
Islam, I just had to stop thinking of any good thought. I'd always understood
they weren't the nice and kind people Jasper was trying to make me believe they
were. It didn't mean I was shallow. I always thought deeply about everything, and
my theories were based on the crimes and cruelty I'd seen the media talking
about all my life. It was just impossible for it not to be true.
But the look in my brother's eyes when he talked about her – he
really loved her, but was love really that blind that he couldn't even sense
rubbish when it hit him in the face? I wasn't sure.
I got up from the sofa and paced the room back and forth a few
times, moving my hands through my hair in frustration every once in a while. I
was still not able to believe that my brother fell for a Muslim – an Arabian
one at that. What would our parents think of it?
I stopped in front of him and looked down to his sitting form, then
asked again, "She makes you happy?" It was the only thing that really
mattered, I’d come to realize. My brother's happiness was more important than
anything else. It was his life, so it was his decision. It was the right thing
to support him in whatever he wanted as long as he thought it would make him
happy. His happiness was truly the only thing that really mattered. Supporting
him was my duty, even if I didn't approve.
He looked up at me, a pleading look in his eyes as if he was
silently begging me for something I didn't even know. "She does. Like no
other," he whispered.
I paused for a few moments before I nodded. "When is the
wedding?" I had to ask.
"In four days."
"Four days? Really?"
"I–I came here only to get you."
"Wow!" I said for what felt like the hundredth time in
less than an hour. "Aren't you rushing it?"
"It can't be delayed." He looked down again.
"You're head over heels about her, Big Bro, aren't you?"
I smiled the best I could even if I still wanted to go somewhere alone and
scream my head off.
"Completely," he replied almost instantly.
I nodded again, then shook my head less than a moment later.
"What's her name?"
"Alice."
"Alice? I didn't know that was an Arabian name."
"It's not. Her name is Alica, but the first time she told me
her name I thought I’d misheard her and asked her if it was Alice. She tried to
tell me how to pronounce Alica the right way but she said I made it sound funny
when I said it. She lets me call her Alice, saying she likes it as much as her
real name." He shrugged, his eyes smiling as he told me the little story
about his princess.
A real princess.
The delight was back in his eyes with that spark that showed how much
he actually loved her as he spoke those few words about her. I was completely
sure by then that he really loved her and it wasn't just a thing that would
soon be over like most of his hookups.
She truly did make him happy.
And it was all that mattered.
"Then let's start getting ready to meet your Alice."
~BK~
I really enjoyed this. :)
ReplyDeleteGetting ready for more, but for the prologue how come Bella get to that place? Where was Jasper while his little sister is forced to a man...
ReplyDeleteI can see that this ride with your story will become an interesting rollercoaster full of ups and downs. I liked how you brought out the stereotypes connected to Arabs and the hortibly prejudiced thoughts your Marie has. What I need to know is how Jasper met his princess because I presume that royals in the Middle East live a very protected life and therefore they are hard to meet. Off to read another chapter!
ReplyDeleteLOVE LOVE LOVE THIS!!!
ReplyDeleteCan't wait for more!!!
Bella, I wanna strangle ya but I know you'll see the light.. I hope soon!! :D
Xoxo
M <3
wow....love it already!!!!!
ReplyDeletecan't wait to read more :)
Really a very enjoyable story....I am as a Muslim very happy with how u have wrote it...can't wait for more
ReplyDeleteWow! Newbie here ;) I'm liking so far what I read. Thanks for share it!
ReplyDelete