I had a simple plan. Work as a flight attendant for an Arabian airline, make a small fortune in five years, then live off my laurels by buying a small hotel on the French Côte d’Azur. But everything went wrong in the very first month after I started.
First, a first-class passenger became the assistant of Sheikh Rashid bin Mohammed al-Maktoum, who offered me a “very high-paying, dignified position.” Then my trip for an interview to their main office. And after that—somehow, I still don’t know how—I ended up as one of the rich man’s harem concubines. I should have refused all the “happiness” that fell on me… but who asked me?