Kidnapped by the Arab

Ahmed felt desperate; the hours passed, and he feared that Carlo, feeling cornered, would harm Aisha. The doctor told him he would need to stay in the hospital for a few days; not doing so might reopen the wound.

Basima was by his side, crying at the thought of her son dying. She also feared for Arkham’s life, knowing that she was partly responsible for his actions; she had encouraged him to behave that way for a long time, and now she regretted it, realizing that her actions had destroyed their family.

Vinizzio, reluctantly, had to return to Italy. He wanted to hand over his territory and leave that life behind. Caroline refused to accompany him; she stayed by Amira’s side, hoping that Aisha would be rescued soon, wanting to be there to welcome her.

The front pages of the newspapers announced the arrest of Assim and his son, causing a stir as their family was considered one of the most prominent in the Emirates, with a considerable fortune. Now that they learned where it came from, they felt repulsed by them. Ahmed was reading the newspaper Zafir brought him.

“Zafir, have you managed to find any clues about my wife’s whereabouts?”

“Yes, sir. We reviewed the area’s cameras; they were pursued and entered the sea. That’s why they weren’t found. They stayed there until we left the area, and later, a truck picked them up. From the images, we noticed that the lady is not in good condition; Carlo Román was carrying her.”

“Do you know who picked them up?”

“No, sir, the truck had no license plates. We assume it was one of Román’s men.”

Ahmed got up; he couldn’t wait any longer.

“We’ll keep searching. They must be within the country; airports and roads are under surveillance. We need to closely monitor the boats, in case they try to escape that way.”

“Sir, it’s not advisable for you to get up yet.”

“It will be even less advisable if that man takes my wife far away, or worse, if he finds her dead.”

Zafir remained silent; the Sheikh was right, those were the two possibilities facing Aisha.

Ahmed took off the hospital gown and put on the clothes Zafir brought him. He left the hospital, ignoring the doctor’s attempts to stop him.

“Get out of my way. I appreciate your concern, but I can’t stay.”

“At least let us bandage you; it will reduce the chances of the wound reopening. The current dressings only prevent infection.”

“Fine, do it quickly.”

A few minutes later, Ahmed left the hospital and gathered his men. They combed the entire area, deploying a large operation by air and land. His wife and child’s lives were at risk.

“Allah! You must help me,” he exclaimed desperately.

“We’re doing everything we can, sir.”

“Do what you can isn’t enough; you must do the impossible to locate them.”© NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

They headed to the dock; several boats were anchored there. They searched one by one until they reached the last one, where Carlo was covering Aisha’s mouth, and she trembled in great pain. Arkham hoped she would die alongside her child.

When they saw Ahmed approaching, Arkham and Carlo climbed onto the deck, taking Aisha with them.

“We’ll have to jump; there are too many of them,” Arkham shouted in desperation.

“He won’t hurt you; he’s your brother.”

“Hahaha, believe me, he will. He hates me.”

Carlo lifted Aisha to throw her overboard.

“Please don’t do it; I’ll drown. I can’t swim, and it hurts too much.”

Carlo felt her trembling in his arms. He had to escape; he decided to leave her there and come back for her later. He gently placed her on the floor.

“I’ll come back for you, I promise.” He kissed her before jumping overboard.

Arkham glared at Aisha with contempt before jumping and laughing hysterically.

“Aisha, my love, hold on, please hold on.”

She turned to look at him, caressed his face, and lost consciousness. Ahmed, terrified, shouted for an ambulance, and Zafir rushed to call for one. The Sheikh carried Aisha to get her off the boat, and his shirt was soaked with blood instantly; the wound had reopened. Due to the adrenaline, he couldn’t feel the pain.

The ambulance arrived minutes later; they immediately attended to Aisha and also asked to attend to the Sheikh, Ahmed. He received a new suture but quickly got up to be by his wife’s side. The doctors stopped him; Aisha’s condition was critical.

Caroline and Amira arrived with Mahib and Basima.

“If she dies, I’ll die with her. I can’t go through this again. I refuse,” Ahmed cried.

“Son, I’m so sorry for all of this. Please forgive me, and allow me to be by your side.”

Basima hugged her son, and he allowed himself to be embraced, crying like a child in his mother’s arms. He didn’t care about showing weakness; it wasn’t well seen, but it didn’t matter at that moment.

Minutes later, more doctors rushed out; Aisha had suffered a cardiac arrest. Ahmed forcibly entered the operating room only to see two very small babies in a crib, connected to oxygen. Aisha was on a gurney, receiving electric shocks on her body.

He tried to run towards her, shouting her name, but the doctors stopped him and pulled him out.

Everyone watched him as they cried, unable to believe what was happening.

“There are two, Mother. I have two children, a boy and a girl,” Ahmed said in astonishment. He felt like destiny was giving back what it had taken from him.

“I heard it, son. What joy! Now I will go to the mosque to pray. We must pray for their health and Aisha’s,” Basima said.

Amira and Caroline offered to accompany her; they couldn’t see Aisha while she was in the intensive care unit. They left for the mosque after briefly looking at the babies from afar in the incubator.

“They are beautiful. Look how small they are,” Caroline exclaimed.

“I am a proud grandmother. I will pamper them and maybe spoil them a little too,” Basima said.

“They are beautiful. I’m an aunt again, and this time, I’ll watch them grow up by our side,” Amira said, referring to the fact that she had only known Ahmed’s other children through photographs.

Basima prayed for them in the mosque and secretly prayed for Arkham, her son. It hurt her to think about what would happen to him if he was caught by the police.

Days later, Aisha’s condition improved, and she was moved to a room. Ahmed could see her and be by her side, but he worried that she didn’t move; she remained so still.

“It all depends on her willpower. She might wake up now, in a few days, or maybe she will stay like this forever,” said a doctor who entered the room.

Ahmed looked at him in terror. What on earth did that mean?

“What are you saying?”

“She has fallen into a coma; we hope it’s only temporary, and she will wake up soon.”

“Damn it! How could you let this happen?” He grabbed the doctor’s shirt.

“Sir, it’s not up to us. We did everything possible to save her life.”

“I’m sorry; you’re right. The important thing is that she’s alive.”

The doctor administered some medication and then left the room. Ahmed approached Aisha, kissed her forehead, and said, “We have two beautiful children. You know, I get to spend a few minutes with them, I can put my hand inside the incubator and feel their little hearts beating. It’s wonderful to see how they move their little bodies. They are together in the same incubator; the doctor says they are calmer that way. They are twins because they formed in the same amniotic sac. If they are separated, they cry and get restless. You should see them; they are so tiny but eager to live. So, you have to be as strong as them and wake up soon. If you don’t, I’ll give them names myself. So, get up from there, so you can choose our children’s names.”

Aisha still didn’t move, and her stillness was scary. Ahmed lay beside her, embracing her, and fell asleep. He had faith that she would wake up soon, for they needed her to be well to be happy with their children. Ahmed had no idea that Carlo was watching his every move, hiding in a country like that was easy, with just an abaya; it was challenging to be recognized, so he avoided being bothered.