An Eid With The Prince [Editing]

BONUS CHAPTER: LOVE BIRDS

~ Safeenah Abubakar ~

The sun had already set when we arrived at the palace. My father's soon-to-be aboard was still unclear.

As we approached the magnificent Palace, a feeling of awe washed over me. Its opulent design merged seamlessly with the modern skyscrapers that surrounded it. The intricate Arabian-inspired architecture was a sight to behold, with its domed roofs, ornate archways, and intricate mosaics that adorned the exterior. The Palace stood as a testament to the grandeur and luxury that defined Dubai. Lush gardens and water features led the way to the entrance, providing a serene oasis amidst the bustling city.

Stepping inside, we were greeted by the grandeur of the lobby, where the fusion of Middle Eastern elegance and contemporary luxury was at its peak. Chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, casting a warm glow over the marble floors and richly decorated furnishings.

My grandfather had done a great job furnishing the palace like this. I still remembered when I was ten in the palace, those were the memories that made me who I am, the memories that baptized me into becoming a strong person for my mother.

"Wow." Rayhan will forever be a baby; he always exclaims in surprise every time we visit Grandpa and Grandma. But today I also was on the verge of being impressed.

From the long hallway of the palace, I noticed many black cars were being parked outside the castle's lot. The Fazza is having guests.

"Abi, why are there so many cars? Did something happen?" My granddaughter instinct kicked in, as my skin crawled despite me knowing nothing was wrong with my father's old man.

My father's eyes squinted as he gave the car's proper assessment. "Hmm, nothing is wrong. With the way the cars are parked, I think Fazza has some guests from Seoul over."

Seoul was what I had to hear for me to know my mother's DNA was replicated in mine; all her characteristics were wound around my histones, creating a sentimental nucleosome inside my nucleus.

Years ago, I had to experience my mother fighting for the love of her life, even when she knew and believed it was all make-believe. Sometimes I wonder why my mother does crazy things for love, and I vowed never to be as gullible as my mother. My father is a great man, but he wasn't as great as he seemed from the start; my biological father, that is. But now that I had fallen in love, I know what my mother was feeling back in those days.

Who wouldn't feel that for Dawood Al-Kim? The Arab-Korean billionaire heir.

Dawood Al-Kim is a visual masterpiece. His handsomeness is a symphony of contrasting heritages, a fusion of Arab and Korean beauty. His chiseled jawline could cut through glass, and his dark, expressive eyes could capture the secrets of the universe. His skin, kissed by the sun, bore the perfect blend of olive tones and a radiant, Korean glow. Every time he smiled, it was as if the heavens had conspired to create the most enchanting dimples.

Dawood's handsomeness didn't stop at his face; it extended down to his long, elegant fingers. They were a testament to his aristocratic lineage, each digit a masterpiece of symmetry and grace. When his hands moved, it was as though they orchestrated a silent, mesmerizing ballet. His nails were impeccably groomed, a testament to his meticulous attention to detail.

His handsomeness was more than just skin deep; it was a captivating aura that left an indelible mark on everyone fortunate enough to catch a glimpse of him. Whether he was dressed in a tailored suit or casual attire, his allure was undeniable, a testament to his unique blend of Arab and Korean allure.

And I was fortunate enough to be his maybe-friend.

"Safeenah and Dawood sitting on a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g." Rayhan's voice broke me from the heavenly trance I had entered.