Chapter 2. Penrith

Penrith was a revelation.

Of course, in a million years, it would never compare to the industrialized New York, but Riyadh was pleasantly surprised by its urbanization. The private airplane had taxied into an airport, and now as the chauffeur drove them in a limo, Riyadh found herself admiring the nicely tarred roads, the small stately homes bordered by flowers in varying blossoms, the mountains that rose protectively around the city in the distance, and the overall metropolitan feel of the area. Yet, she was determined to hate it because she had been brought here by coercion. And she was going to miss Paris Fashion Week thanks to this drab place.

Her father was here on business alright, just not his money-making business alone.

He was here on some paranormal business too.

Back in New York City, Casildo Nazir was one of America’s most prominent and powerful entrepreneurs. Her father had been born into an affluent old-money family in the Middle East. Nazir Enterprises was now three generations old. In the last one hundred years, the company had spread its tentacles all over the middle east, but her father had been the first to pioneer it in the US. He had built the company to a large preeminent status, with an annual gross of over five billion dollars in domestic profits, and America couldn’t help but notice him.

Casildo was invited to the most exclusive parties; he had met and dined with cardinals, kings, presidents, prime ministers, fellow billionaires, motion picture stars, sports stars, famous musicians, and even the pope. He was on every Forbes list, and last year he snagged the number one spot on the list of 500 most flourishing business executives. His net worth alone had already soared above 150 billion dollars.

An outstanding remarkable feat for a man who was, well… not exactly a man, but an actual wolf who had a human form.

Riyadh recalled the first time she’d watched him transform. She had not been more than six years old. They had been away on vacation at the mansion in the Hamptons. She had not been able to sleep that night, and so she had come downstairs clutching her teddy, looking for some water, when she saw a strange figure huddling out in the garden. Naturally, being a precocious child, she had gone to investigate. Turning on the lock and opening the door, she had first noticed the incandescent full moon before seeing the ferocious black wolf that locked eyes with her. In a second, the wolf shapeshifted into her father. Riyadh had felt the buildup of a petrified scream, but her mother’s long and sultry fingers had covered her mouth before it could tumble out.

“Hush now, little one, let’s get you back inside. It’s a cold night.”

She looked at her father now as he diligently studied some papers, knowing that as long as she lived, she could never truly eviscerate that memory. He never discussed his paranormal life. The other mystery side of him that the world was unaware of. All she knew was that he belonged to a pack, and as with any werewolf pack, there was an Alpha, an omega, and a Luna.

***

The limousine honked in front of a tan colonnaded house in a secluded estate. Within seconds the gates opened, and as the limousine taxied into the long driveway, Riyadh couldn’t help but be reminded about the playboy mansion. The lush green grass, the fountain gushing out clean spring water in the center, and the bougainvillea trees and chrysanthemum flowers all gave the atmosphere a lovely heady scent. There was something regal and imposing about the house. It looked to Riyadh like something out of a nineteenth-century storybook.

The chauffeur opened up the door, and Riyadh took her time coming down. Her golden strappy heels were out first before she stood up and stood out. In her short skirt, a lovely silk blouse, a corduroy jacket, and the jewelry that adorned her, she looked slightly overdressed for the occasion. Riyadh knew this, but she didn’t care. Clothes, makeup, and jewels gave her the confidence to make others feel smaller. It also reminded anyone she interacted with that she wasn’t just anyone – she was Riyadh Nazir, one of the most famous billionaire heiresses in the world.

“Welcome to the Bennett mansion,” her father said unnecessarily as he stood beside her.

“Hmm,” Riyadh responded indifferently so that it wouldn’t seem as though she was ignoring him, even though that was precisely what she wanted to do. She wasn’t impressed with the house. Not one bit.

The mahogany front door opened, and a young woman stepped out. She hurried toward them, a delightful smile on her face. There was poise and grace around her. An intelligence too that radiated along with her positive energy. Her father beamed at her.

“Yasmin!” He outstretched his arms, and she pliantly went into them.

“Oh, Mr. Nazir, it is so good to see you again!”

“You know I have always told you to call me Casildo.”

She laughed. “Father wouldn’t let me. You know how he can get respect sometimes.”

“Trust me, I know. Come meet my daughter Riyadh.”

“Oh, this is Riyadh?! Oh, bless! The last time I saw her, she was just a kid. Now, look! How are you, Riyadh? My name is Yasmin Bennett. It’s so nice to meet you.”

“Wish I could say the same,” Riyadh said flatly.

Yasmin thought she didn’t hear properly, so she smiled and outstretched her hand in a greeting. Riyadh took one look at it and cackled in disbelief.

“Do I look like someone who shakes hands with the masses?”

Embarrassment crawled up the soles of Casildo’s toes, making its way up to the remaining part of his body. Yasmin was stunned at the rudeness.

“I’m truly sorry about this, Yasmin,” he said. Yasmin smiled a quiet smile that held its peace.

“It’s okay.” She turned around.

“Clinton! Castor!” Yasmin bellowed. Two men appeared immediately.

“Will you please help the chauffeur with the bags?”

Riyadh stared at her in ironic surprise; then she laughed scornfully for so long that both Casildo and Yasmin turned to stare at her, perplexed.

“So, I guess this is how things are done in Penrith?” Riyadh asked, directing her question to no one in particular. “When the bosses are away, the servants play boss?” she asked rhetorically, in a tone rich with mockery. Yasmin turned to Casildo.

“Riyadh!”

Riyadh pretended not to hear her father call her to order and instead began walking toward the house.

Casildo put his thumb and his index finger between his eyes and then at a spot on his temple where he usually got headaches.

“Once again, Yasmin, I’m truly sorry. She didn’t want to come here. That’s why she’s acting up.”

“Sounds like a drama queen,” Yasmin said knowingly.

Casildo chuckled. “You have no idea.”

Riyadh stopped midway, annoyed that she was walking alone. Was she supposed to be walking alone anyway? As though it wasn’t enough, she had been brought to this drab place. Okay, maybe it wasn’t so drab, but she didn’t like it anyway. She looked back at the car. Her father and the Yasmin maid were speaking in hushed tones, no doubt about her. Then Yasmin turned and started to walk back to the house, not saying a word to Riyadh. Barely just thirty minutes into the visit, and it was all going sour already.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” her father whispered scoldingly. It was low enough to pretend it was a whisper but still high enough for Yasmin to hear.

“Oh, now you’re going to give me a lecture?”

“Of course I am! That was low, Riyadh, taking jabs at her like that when she was simply being warm and welcoming.”

Riyadh shrugged indifferently and said nothing. Apologies weren’t her thing.

“Do you know who she is? She’s the Luna of the pack. Come what may, you don’t disrespect the Luna.”

“What’s a Luna, dad?”

Casildo held his patience, trying not to explode.

“Now you’re going to act ignorant?”

Riyadh shrugged. “I’m not acting. It’s not as if you ever told me about your paranormal existence. You effortlessly pretend that it is not a part of your reality when we are in New York, then suddenly you spring a trip on me and expect me to meet these strangers and embrace them like they’re my family. Everything I know about this part of your life was told to me by mom before she passed.”

Casildo was silent. “I’m sorry, Riyadh, I truly am, but don’t pretend that’s the reason why you disrespected Yasmin. I don’t understand why you always feel the need to be rude. Yasmin is the Luna, and you have to show her some respect, is that understood?”

“Luna? Dad? The Luna of your infamous pack dressed up like a scraggly maid? Even girls, who accept those pitiful-looking clothes from the salvation army, look better dressed than she does right now.”

Yasmin, who had been silently listening to the conversation, had heard enough. And she had had enough of this rude spoiled twat.