MELODY (Book 1) ✓

Chapter 47 (Conclusion)

My face heated up with shame.

And I thought she worked with Vivian! God, I acted so stupid and now she's being too kind to me... I'm such an idiot!

Suddenly, I was aware that the well-built man next to her with a lopsided smile knew everything too. The history of my humiliation was up for grabs. I pinned my lips together, trying not to dwell on this fact. It was over now. No more shelter. No more bullying. And as far as I could tell, I wasn't under arrest. I still needed to find a place to live, but that was something I would've done sooner or later. I should be relieved, right? But I couldn't help the nagging feeling that crawled in the back of my head and made me shudder.

"Hiya, brothah." A deep manly voice boomed out from Akmal's mouth as he slapped Akram on his back. He tilted his head toward me, holding out a large hand, a striking smile stretched out across his lips. "And good to meet you, almost - sistah."

My eyes widened to hear his distinct British accent, although it suited him so well, but I definitely didn't see it coming. Akram didn't have a foreign accent, neither did Sophie, or even Laila.

The 'sister' part went right over my head though. It could've been his way of showing courtesy, or even making fun of me. I couldn't tell. The funny thing was, I half-expected him to introduce himself as "Thor Odinson, The God Of Thunder," with that abysmal tone of his and the excessive amount of muscle. The gladiator physique was pretty much the same.

"Erm! Nice to meet you." My cheeks warmed at my ridiculous thoughts as I awkwardly shook his firm hand.

"I see my brother's been a jammy little chap." Akmal smirked, reaching a hand to tousle Akram's hair, who didn't look too happy, considering the color of his ears.

"Um!" My eyes narrowed in confusion. The accent was absolutely easy on the ear, but it didn't make his words any easier to grasp.

I blinked when Laila poked Akmal in the ribs, whispering in his ear while she clung to his bicep. They seemed well-acquainted from the way they gravitated toward each other.

Akmal rumbled a chuckle and blurted out a few words in Arabic - which reminded me that I needed to learn Arabic so badly.

With the corner of my eye, I saw Akram shaking his head and raising an eyebrow at his brother. Curiosity nudged me to ask for translation, but I hated to sound like a Nosy Parker in my first meeting with Akram's family. I had hoped they would like me, although nothing ensured that.

There was no denying the truth. I thought Akram was the most handsome guy I'd ever met, but Akmal was... Well, something else- An entirely different level of handsome. His intense eyes and sleek brown hair, complimenting a bronze tan and a superhero jawline, were all packed up into, at least, 6.5 feet of muscle. He looked offensively flawless that I caught myself comparing him to his brother.

Akram was tall and lean, but not as muscular as Akmal, who hulked up over him by a few inches.

Akram was the heartthrob kind of good-looking, not the overwhelming kind that blinds your eyes and makes you uncomfortable.

Akram was shy and sensitive with a sensitive, artistic soul, while Akmal seemed bold, overconfident, and more inclined to physical expression.

The difference between Akram and Akmal was like the difference between basking in the sunshine, and having a sunburn. I hardly tolerated sunburns, so Akram still won in my book.

"I assume you already know. I'm Akmal Sadiq. His big brother." He swung his arm around Akram's shoulder and grinned, pulling him under his arm. "I capture bad blokes and apparently a bunch of them put a price on your head, so you're in luck."