Tainted Souls

Chapter 13

Leonardo

I stared at Alia's picture on the screen with a blank mind listening to the details of her death from the private investigator-Google's search engine was filled with Alia's images with her husband and sons.

Alia Al Jahaan.

A-l-i-a-A-l-J-a-h-a-a-n.

Alia fucking Al Jahaan.

An Al-Jahaan.

One of the most influential last names in the world. The name that holds immense power in the middle east. The name that anyone in the world would think of ten times before going against.

The wife of Taimur Al Jahaan, the king of Azmaayir. The mother of the heirs to the throne of Azmaayir. Alia would have been the Queen of Azmaayir if she didn't fake her death and left her husband and sons behind.

Jesus Christ.

How could I miss all the signs? How couldn't I connect the dots? Why didn't I try to find out who she was earlier? Why did I want her to tell me about it?

Thousands of questions went through my mind at that instance, but I didn't have the answer to even a single one of them. I couldn't believe Alia vanished without a trace.

If I hadn't found the anesthetic syringe in her living room, and her neighbor, the old lady, didn't spot armed men outside her cottage. I would have thought Alia got cold feet and ran away. The presence of the syringe was evidence that someone had abducted Alia. Who else other than her husband or her husband's enemies?

Taimur Al Jahaan's enemies tried to kill her once they might try to use her to get to him again. Or it could be that Taimur Al Jahaan found out Alia was alive, and he came for her.

I felt like my head would explode. How was I supposed to find Alia when I had no clue who took her? What if it's too late before I find her? What if they hurt Alia before I get to her?

No!!!

I needed to find her. I had to find her no matter the cost. I couldn't afford to lose Alia after I had lost everything that mattered to me.

How would I live without Alia? Could I even think of my life without her? Only in a few weeks, she had become so vital to my existence that the thought of losing her forever was enough to stop my breath.

When I went to her cottage that night and didn't find her there, I felt like my world had ended, and I had no reason to live. The realization that Alia was out there all alone facing God knows what was the only reason I gathered myself and came to Italy to find Alia, and I wouldn't stop until I found out where she was and who had abducted her.

The first thing I did was forward her picture to my PI to get information about her. When my PI called and asked to meet me, I figured it was something big, but I never imagined that Alia, my Alia, the simple Arabian girl I found in a small town in the Alps, would turn out to be the assumed dead wife of one of the most influential men to walk on Earth.

Twenty-four hours had passed since she disappeared, and I had no clue where to start looking for her. I squeezed my eyes, then massaged my temples. My restlessness increased with each passing second. The only time I felt that helpless was when Eleonora died along with our daughter, and I couldn't save either of them.

Where are you, Alia? And in what condition?

"Mr. Bianchi?"

The PI's questioning voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I opened my eyes and stared at him.

"Why are you interested in a dead woman?" He inquired in a hesitant voice.

If it were some other situation, I would have laughed at his question. Fiore was the same investigator who gathered information about Rameen, and I was sure he doubted my sanity because I made him dig up information about a dead woman. Did he assume I was necrophilic?