Call Me Sir- KONSTA

Anisa

There was a soft knock on the door. I looked up from the book I was reading to the open doorway of our library. Fahima, my ladies maid, stood in her simple black skirt suit, her hands weaved together, head bowed slightly respectfully.

“Pardon me miss, your brother has requested that you meet him in his office.” she said.

Her voice was always soft, and carried a melodic tone to it, the remnants of an accent she’d tried to leave behind. Fahima was the same age as my mother but had never married and had taken the job with my family twenty years ago to support her parents in India. Just like our other English staff, she’d been taught to speak the native language to blend into our new country.

We’d brought a few of our house staff to London with us from the small town in Kerala where we had lived for most of my childhood before my father, the Maharaja, had died. Then my mother moved with me to London where I’d attended school while my eldest brother Amir took my father’s place back home. My other brothers Aryan and Advik owned a few hotels scattered around Asia and were focused on running those. They had no interest in ruling over the province our Family oversaw and left those matters in our eldest brother’s more than capable hands.

At twenty-five, I was the youngest and the only girl, but neither my brothers nor my mother ever gave me any special treatment. In fact, every day my mother made it clear that as a young woman, my role in this family was whatever Amir, as head of our Family- and our King- deemed it to be. It was the part of our culture, part of our traditions that they would not give up no matter what country we lived in even if the people here might think it was archaic.

My brother comes to London to visit and attend a few meetings as he does every month or so. But the rest of the time I barely saw him, just how I liked it. It was those times I was free to do the charity work I did with my mother and attend brunches and host galas. I loved organizing events and raising awareness for issues like child poverty and abuse. Living in India, I saw first hand how bringing awareness to these issues could help improve them. It was something I was extremely passionate about and hoped to continue even after I was married. If my husband allowed me to, of course. I was going to do everything in my power to make sure the man I’d spend the rest of my life with, would understand my goals and dreams and support them- support me. That’s one of the reasons I gave into my brother’s summons. To get him on my side.

I snapped my book closed and stood, smoothing my bun, ensuring not a strand was out of place. Amir hated untidiness, and in that way, he was much like our father before him. He never held his tongue in letting me know whenever I looked anything other than perfect. I was a representation of our Family and was not to be anything less than perfect. According to him, this country already judged us on the colour of our skin, we didn’t need to give them more to look down their noses on.

I tugged the black pencil skirt down, and Fahima stepped towards me, pretending to adjust the sleeves of my lily white silk blouse, her head bent towards mine.

“He’s not alone, miss.” she said softly, so the cameras in the room wouldn’t pick up her voice. Yes my brothers insisted on cameras throughout the entire house, the bedrooms and bathrooms excluded. He must have seen me in the library and sent Fahima to fetch me.

My heart hammered in my chest at her words.

If my brother was summoning me to his office and had someone with him, that could only mean one thing. He’d mentioned more than once since I’d turned twenty-one, that I would be eligible for marriage and he’d ensure it would be one to benefit the family. Since then I’d gotten any notion of marrying for love, out of my head.

In fact, Amir had told me that one man had seen me accompany him to an event and asked about me. But my brother was of the view that his social standing wasn’t good enough for him and so he’d never made an introduction. We were royalty, he’d said, and would accept nothing less, even if most people didn’t understand that.

Now for him to ask me to meet someone meant he’d already vetted him. That made fear grip my heart with icy fingers because it meant that was one step closer to losing my freedom.

“You look beautiful.” Fahima said before stepping back so I could walk past her to the stairs. I was so happy my mother was out for the afternoon and wouldn’t be back for a few hours. I was sure she would never approve of my outfit to meet my brother’s guest. She would think the blouse was too sheer or that it was scandalous to wear a skirt without stockings.

The walk to my brother’s office was short. Just down the stairs and a few steps down a hallway. He’d made sure he had a private space in the townhouse I lived in with my mother since we could rarely do anything without his permission. I’d gotten used to his controlling ways.

The door was slightly ajar but I still gave a delicate knock, before it swung open revealing a pair of of hazel eyes.

My hand lowered slowly, my eyes drifted across the classically handsome face, down a broad chest before he cleared his throat and my eyes darted to his again.

I didn’t miss the amused look curving his lips and had to blink to focus.

“Nisa, this is Sheik Reshad Salem,” my brother’s heavy drawl introduced us, “Reshad this is my sister, Anisa.”

I lifted my hand and it was immediately swallowed into a larger one. His skin was the color of honey and only a shade darker than my own. He lifted my hand towards him, and I felt the soft press of his lips against my skin and my heart tripped even as my cheeks flushed.

I’d met many handsome men in the company of my brothers before, but something in the eyes of this one, was extremely unsettling. My brothers were always around to ward off any male attention that lingered too long and when they weren’t around, my mother took that job seriously. It was imperative to them that my reputation- and virginity- remain intact until marriage.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Anisa,” Reshad’s voice was smooth, “Your brother speaks very highly of you. Two degrees in History and Politics and a Master’s degree all from the University of Cambridge and still you manage to chair not one but two charities.”

My blush deepened as I took the seat he offered, all the while noting my brother’s eyes observing our interaction.

“Our family values hard work and she is very disciplined ,”Amir’s voice boomed from my side as Reshad took a seat next to me, “I have no doubt Anisa would make an excellent partner.”

Reshad’s eyes scanned my body, lingering on my chest and the wide flare of my hips. I wasn’t a skinny girl, much to my mother’s disappointment. There was no helping genetics save for going under the knife which I was adamant I would not do. I would not change my body to please my mother. My bi-weekly pilates classes was enough to keep my body toned. My mother would just have to be satisfied with that.

“I enjoyed studying, Mr. Salem,” I said, answering for myself. I caught the way my brother’s lips turned down in disapproval and ignored him, “As my brother said, I am extremely focused when I enjoy something and see its value, like my charity work.”

Reshad’s grin widened as if he found me delightful.

He stood abruptly and Amir followed suit. Reshad lifted his hand and Amir took it.

“She’ll do nicely.” he said, as if I wasn’t there. As if some bargain had been struck.

I’d never felt more like cattle than I did at that moment.

My smile faltered at the way I was so easily ignored.

Amir beamed and shook his hand in hard pumps.

“Fantastic. We’ll discuss terms at the Club?”

Reshad nodded before looking down at me.

“We shall meet soon, love.” he drawled, his eyes drinking me in one last time before he left the room.

As soon as we heard the front door shut, Amir rubbed his palms together.

“What’s happening?” I asked, even though by the sinking feeling in my stomach, my subconscious already knew.

Amir looked down at me, his eyes didn’t show an ounce of pity.

“Reshad has chosen you to be his wife!” he moved quickly around his desk, tapping out something on his computer, “We have to get you ready. As soon as mother arrives, I’ll need to speak with her on what has to be done.”

I stood and leaned over the desk.

“Wait, don’t we have a courtship first? Get to know each other?” I couldn’t help the panic in my voice. I always knew one day my brother would choose my husband for me, but I always thought I’d have time to prepare myself for it. Mentally and physically.

Amir just laughed.

“You’re going to marry one of the richest men in Dubai and you want to delay that for a courtship?”

My eyes widened, stunned at his words.

I didn’t care about the Sheikh’s money or how handsome he was. What I wanted- what I needed- was to have a relationship with the man I was going to marry. To get to know him. For him to understand me.

But by the look on Amir’s face, it looked like that wasn’t going to happen. He leaned his forearms on his desk and pinned me with a hard stare so I knew how serious he was.

“Listen to me Anisa, this is what you need to do for the family,” he said, “This union benefits all of us, but only if you do your part.”

I fell back into the chair and looked at him in a daze.

“My part? You mean marry him.”

Amir shook his head.

“Marrying a man like Reshad is just the first step,” he explained, “His religion allows him to have multiple wives.”

My eyes widened even more. I hadn’t even thought about that.

“Lucky for us, you’ll be his first and you better as fuck be his only.” he ground out, “You have to keep him happy Anisa. Make sure he doesn’t marry anyone else and you’ll have everything you could ever want. Our family will.”

His eyes took on that faraway look as if he could see into the future.

“How am I supposed to do that?” I asked softly even though a part of me already knew what he was asking- no telling me what I had to do.

Amir grimaced and there were bright red spots on his cheeks.

“I’m sure you can figure it out.” he muttered before turning back to his computer and waving his hand at me in dismissal.

“You can go now.”

I stood on shaky feet and then when I felt steady again, I flew from the room, not bothering to wipe the tears that slid down my cheeks.