Dubai Sheikh’s 12 Mistresses Forced to Play Russian Roulette – Survivor Becomes 5th Wife

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The problem was that he couldn’t decide who to choose.

They were all young, beautiful, and obedient.

Each had her own merits.

Oksana was the youngest and most naive, easily manipulated.

Isabella was experienced and knew how to please a man.

Rosa was quiet and submissive, the ideal image of a traditional wife.

Anastasia was passionate and temperamental which attracted Rashid.

Rashid spent several weeks trying to choose.

He met with each of them separately, spent time with them, and evaluated them.

But he couldn’t make a decision.

His character was such that he couldn’t stand uncertainty, but at the same time, he didn’t want to make a choice that might turn out to be wrong.

He was a gambler, loved to take risks in business and investments, and played poker with friends for large sums of money.

And it was this trait that led to what happened next.

In early June, Rashid gathered his closest friends for a private dinner at one of his hotels.

Eight men, all from wealthy families in Dubai and other Emirates, >> >> businessmen, investors, one member of the ruling family, the emir’s cousin.

They drank expensive cognac, smoked cigars, and discussed business.

At some point, the conversation turned to women and Rashid mentioned his problem with choosing a fifth wife.

One of his friends, Khalid, 46, owner of a construction company, joked that Rashid should hold a contest like in ancient times when women competed for the right to become the sultan’s wife.

Another, Saeed, 39, an investor, suggested making it a game where the winner takes all.

Rashid listened, smiled, and drank cognac.

Then suddenly he said it was a good idea that he would do just that.

At first, his friends thought he was joking, but Rashid was serious.

He said he would arrange a special evening, invite all 12 mistresses, and hold a game where the winner would become his wife.

When asked what kind of game, Rashid thought for a moment.

Then he suggested Russian roulette.

He had seen it in American films and read about similar cases where people risked their lives for money or thrills.

He liked the idea.

A pure game of chance where no one could cheat, where only luck would decide who would survive.

His friends were silent at first, then began to laugh thinking it was just another drunken fantasy.

But Rashid continued to develop the idea.

He said it would be the perfect solution.

The women would know that the stakes were high, that victory meant wealth and status, >> >> that the risk was justified.

He suggested that every participant who agreed to play would be guaranteed a $50 million contract in the event of divorce if she became a wife.

It was a huge sum that could provide for three generations to come.

Khalid asked what would happen if someone died.

Rashid shrugged and said it was part of the game.

The women signed the contracts knowing they were living on his terms.

If they refused to play, he would simply deport them without compensation.

The choice was theirs.

Saeed said it was crazy that there could be problems with the police.

Rashid laughed and replied that the police would not know.

Everything would take place in a private villa.

There would be no witnesses except themselves and any bodies would disappear in the desert.

The conversation continued until 3:00 in the morning.

By the end of the evening, Rashid’s friends had agreed to attend the event.

Not everyone was enthusiastic about the idea, but no one dared to refuse.

Rashid was an influential man on whom their businesses and connections depended.

Refusing would mean insulting him and that could have consequences.

Besides, some of them were intrigued.

The idea of seeing something so extreme, so far beyond the ordinary lives of rich people, appealed to them.

Rashid began to prepare.

He bought a revolver through his bodyguard who had connections with gun dealers.

It was a Smith & Wesson Model 629, a classic six-shot revolver, heavy and reliable.

Rashid practiced with it several times at a private shooting range, learning how to load it, spin the cylinder, and check the safety.

He also hired a doctor who agreed to attend the party for $200,000 and complete silence.

The doctor was supposed to provide assistance if anyone survived the shooting, although Rashid understood that a shot to the head at such close range was almost always fatal.

The evening was set for Saturday, June 23rd, 2018.

Rashid invited all 12 women to dinner at the villa.

He said it was a special evening, that there would be an important announcement.

The women took it as a normal event, thinking that perhaps Rashid would announce new gifts or a trip.

They dressed in evening gowns, did their makeup and hair.

The atmosphere was almost festive.

Dinner began at 8:00 in the evening.

A long table in the main hall of the villa was decorated with flowers and candles, and waiters brought dishes, wine, and champagne.

Rashid sat at the head of the table, smiling, joking, and being charming.

The women relaxed, talked among themselves, and laughed.

Some thought that tonight Rashid would announce which of them would become his next wife, and each hoped it would be her.

After dessert, around 10:00, Rashid stood up, raised his glass, and asked for everyone’s attention.

The women fell silent and looked at him.

He began to talk about how much he appreciated each of them, how difficult it was to choose just one for the role of wife.

He said that they all deserved this status, that they were all beautiful and worthy.

The women listened, some smiling, waiting for the announcement.

Then Rashid signaled to his guards.

Two men in black suits entered the room and blocked the doors.

The women exchanged glances, and the atmosphere changed.

Someone asked what was happening.

Rashid smiled, took a revolver out of his jacket pocket, and placed it on the table.

The silence became absolute.

Rashid explained.

He said that he couldn’t choose between them in the usual way, that he had decided to leave it up to fate.

That today they would play a game, and the winner would become his fifth wife, receive a $50 million contract in the divorce, status, wealth, everything they had dreamed of.

The women listened, not understanding.

One of them, Elena, a Romanian, asked what kind of game it was.

Rashid picked up the revolver, showed it to them, and said, “Russian roulette.

” The reaction was instantaneous.

Several women screamed.

One began to cry.

Others sat, unable to move, in shock.

Oksana, the youngest, asked if it was a joke.

Rashid shook his head and said it was serious.

The rules were simple.

Each woman would spin the cylinder, put the revolver to her temple, and shoot.

If she survived, she would move on to the next round.

The game would continue until there was one or more winners left.

Anastasia, the Russian, stood up and said she refused.

That it was madness, that she was leaving.

Rashid gestured to the guards who were moving toward her to stop.

He said calmly, “You can refuse, but then you will be deported tonight, without money, without compensation, without recommendations.

Your contract will be canceled, and you will return home with what you came with.

Nothing.

” Anastasia stood there, trembling, tears streaming down her face.

She looked at the other women, at Rashid, at the guards at the door.

She sat back down.

Rashid asked who else wanted to refuse.

Two women raised their hands, Sophie, a French woman, and Leila, a Lebanese woman.

Both were older than the others, in their late 20s, more experienced, and understood what was happening.

Rashid nodded and told the guards to take them to a separate room, where they would wait until morning, and then be taken to the airport.

Both women left without looking back.

10 remained.

Rashid looked at the remaining women.

He said he respected their decision, that they had shown courage, that the winner would receive not only money and status, but also his respect.

That this test would show who was truly worthy of being with him.

He opened the revolver, showed that the cylinder was empty, then took out a single bullet, inserted it into one of the six chambers, closed the cylinder, and spun it.

The metallic sound of the spinning cylinder echoed in the silence of the hall.

At that moment, eight of Rashid’s friends entered the room.

They sat down in chairs along the walls, like spectators in a theater.

Each had a glass of alcohol and a cigar.

They looked at the women at the table with expressions that ranged from curiosity to obvious excitement about the upcoming spectacle.

Oksana later recalled that at that moment she realized they would not stop this.

No one would come to her aid.

This was really happening.

Rashid placed the revolver on the table in front of Oksana.

He said, “You’re first.

” Oksana stared at the weapon, unable to move.

Her hands were shaking so badly that she couldn’t lift her glass of water.

Rashid repeated, “Take it.

This is your chance.

” Oksana slowly reached out and took the revolver.

It was heavy and cold.

She had never held a gun before.

Rashid explained what to do.

Spin the cylinder to mix up the position of the bullets.

Put the barrel to her temple.

Pull the trigger.

Oksana spun the cylinder with trembling hands, the metal clicking as it turned.

She raised the revolver to her head.

The metal was cold against her skin.

She closed her eyes and pulled the trigger.

Click.

Empty.

The cylinder spun, but there was no shot.

Oksana opened her eyes, lowered her hand, and began to sob with relief.

Rashid took the revolver and handed it to the next woman, Isabella, a Brazilian.

Isabella was calmer.

She worked in the fitness industry and was used to pressure and competition.

She took the revolver confidently, spun the cylinder, put it to her temple, and looked straight at Rashid.

She pulled the trigger.

Click.

Empty.

Isabella put the revolver on the table, leaned back in her chair, and exhaled.

Next was Rosa, a Filipina, small, fragile, with long black hair.

She prayed quietly before taking the weapon.

A Catholic, she crossed herself, whispered a prayer, spun the cylinder.

She put it to her temple.

She pulled the trigger.

Click.

Empty.

Rosa burst into tears, put down the revolver, and covered her face with her hands.

The fourth was Karina, the second Ukrainian, 25 years old, a blonde with blue eyes, a former medical student who had dropped out to live in Dubai.

She took the revolver, looked at it, studying it.

She spun the cylinder methodically.

She put it to her temple.

Everyone watched.

She pulled the trigger.

A shot rang out.

The sound was deafening in the enclosed space.

Karina’s head jerked to the side.

Blood spattered on the wall behind her, on the women sitting nearby.

Her body slumped onto her chair, then slid to the floor.

The revolver fell from her hand, landing on the table with a metallic clang.

Blood spread across the floor, a dark red puddle expanding.

Screams.

The women at the table jumped up, trying to move away, but the guards at the doors did not move.

Several women were sobbing hysterically.

Anastasia stood up and shouted at Rashid that he was a murderer, and that she would call the police.

Rashid gestured to a guard who grabbed Anastasia, pinned her against the wall, and covered her mouth with his hand.

Rashid approached her and said quietly, “One more word, and you’re next.

Not in the game.

Just a bullet in the head, right here, right now.

” Anastasia fell silent and nodded.

The guard let her go.

Rashid returned to the table and looked at the remaining women.

Nine now, after Karina’s death.

He picked up the revolver from the floor, wiped the blood with a handkerchief, opened the cylinder, removed the spent cartridge, and inserted a new one.

He closed the cylinder and spun it.

He put it back on the table.

He said, “Let’s continue.

” The doctor, who was standing in the corner of the room, approached Karina’s body, checked her pulse, and shook his head.

Rashid ordered the guards to carry the body out.

Two men lifted the dead girl and carried her out through the side door.

The blood remained on the floor, a dark stain on the light marble.

The fifth in line was Amina, a Moroccan woman, 32 years old, the oldest of those remaining.

She had two children at home in Morocco, to whom she sent money every month.

She came to Dubai 4 years ago, worked as a maid, then met Rashid.

Amina took the revolver, her face calm.

She had lived a difficult life, seen death before, lost her husband in a car accident when she was 23.

She spun the cylinder, put it to her temple without closing her eyes.

She pulled the trigger.

There was a shot.

The second death in 5 minutes.

Amina fell forward, face down on the table, blood flowing from the wound on her temple, flooding the plates with the remains of dessert.

Her hand twitched for a few seconds, then froze.

The women at the table screamed again, but more quietly, in shock, unable to fully comprehend what was happening.

Oksana sat with her head in her hands, rocking back and forth.

Isabella stared into space, her face pale, her lips moving in silent prayer.

Rashid again gave the order to remove the body.

The guards complied.

The doctor didn’t even approach this time.

It was obvious that Amina was dead.

Rashid reloaded the revolver, repeating the ritual.

One bullet, the spinning of the cylinder, the metallic sound that now sounded like a death sentence.

The sixth was Elena, a Romanian woman, 27 years old.

She was a hairdresser in Bucharest and had come to Dubai on a tourist visa.

She met Rashid at his hotel, where she was doing the hair of one of his official wives.

Elena was practical, rational, and always planned ahead.

She took the revolver, looked at Rashid, and asked, “If I refuse now, will you kill me?” Rashid replied, “No.

I’ll just deport you.

” Elena nodded, put the revolver on the table, and stood up.

She said, “I refuse.

” Rashid looked at her for a long time, then nodded to the guard.

Elena was led out of the room.

Eight women remained.

Rashid handed the revolver to the next one.

Valeria, a 26-year-old Colombian, was a former economics student in Bogota.

She came to Dubai for an internship at a bank, met Rashid at a business dinner.

He asked her out on a date, and a month later, she moved into a villa.

Valeria was smart, ambitious, and dreamed of starting her own business.

$50 million could make her independent for life.

She took the revolver, spun the cylinder methodically, as if she had done it before.

She put it to her temple and looked at the ceiling.

She pulled the trigger.

There was no shot.

The cylinder stopped on an empty chamber.

Valeria exhaled and passed the gun on.

The seventh was Nina, a 22-year-old Thai woman, the smallest and quietest of them all.

She spoke almost no English, communicating with gestures and simple phrases.

She had come to Dubai to work as a masseuse in a spa, and Rashid was one of her clients.

Nina took the revolver with both hands.

It seemed huge in her small palms.

She spun the cylinder, closed her eyes, and put it to her temple.

She couldn’t pull the trigger for a long time.

Her finger was shaking.

Rashid said, “Go ahead, or I’ll do it for you.

” Nina pulled the trigger.

A shot rang out.

The third death.

Nina fell from her chair, her small body hitting the floor, blood flowing from the wound, mixing with Karina’s already dried blood on the marble.

Her eyes were open, staring into nothingness.

The women at the table were no longer screaming.

They sat in a state of numbness, a state that went beyond fear.

It was something else, a shutdown of emotions as a defense mechanism of the psyche.

Seven women remained.

Rashid continued his reloading ritual.

His friends watched in silence, no one else drinking or smoking.

The atmosphere had changed, even for them.

Some looked pale.

One left the room, and he could be heard vomiting in the hallway.

But no one stopped Rashid.

No one said it was enough.

The eighth was Anastasia, a Russian woman, 26 years old, the one who had tried to protest after the first death.

She worked as a dancer in a club, was strong, independent, not used to obeying.

But now her face was blank, as if she had gone inside herself to get through this.

She took the revolver without looking at it, spun the cylinder mechanically.

She put it to her temple and pulled the trigger without hesitation.

There was no shot.

She passed the gun on without changing her expression.

Oksana was ninth again.

It was her second round.

She had already done this once and survived, but that didn’t make the process any easier.

She took the revolver, which was now warm from being handled by many hands, >> >> and spun the cylinder, listening to the familiar metallic sound.

She put it to her temple.

Thoughts of her family in Ukraine flashed through her mind, of her mother, who didn’t know what her daughter was doing in Dubai, thinking she was working as a model.

Oksana pulled the trigger.

There was no shot.

She put the revolver on the table, her hands shaking so badly she couldn’t control them.

Isabella was 10th, her second time.

The Brazilian seemed calmer than the others.

Her experience in fitness, where she was used to pain and pushing her body to its limits, helping her to stay in control.

She took the revolver, spun the cylinder, put it to her temple, and pulled the trigger.

The cylinder spun to an empty chamber.

She handed it to Rosa.

Rosa, a Filipina, second round.

She was still praying, whispering words into Tagalog, her native language.

She took the gun, spun the cylinder, and put it to her temple.

Her face was wet with tears.

She pulled the trigger.

The gun did not fire.

Rosa lowered the revolver >> >> and thanked God aloud.

The 12th was Valeria, a Colombian woman, second round.

She took the revolver confidently, just like the first time.

She spun the cylinder, put it to her temple, and pulled the trigger without hesitation.

The cartridge did not fire.

The cylinder stopped at an empty chamber.

She put the gun on the table.

The 13th was Anastasia, second round.

The Russian woman took the revolver, her movements automatic, like a robot.

She spun the cylinder, put it to her temple, and pulled the trigger.

A shot rang out.

The fourth death.

Anastasia fell backward, her chair tipped over, her body hit the floor.

Blood gushed from the wound, flooding her light hair.

Her eyes were open, staring at the ceiling.

The guards approached, lifted the body, and carried it away.

Rashid reloaded the revolver.

Six women remained.

Oksana, Isabella, Rosa, Valeria, and two others who had not made it through the second round.

Natalia, the second Russian, 29 years old, was next.

She worked as a manager at a travel agency in Moscow, came to Dubai on a business trip, met Rashid, and he asked her to stay.

Natalia was pragmatic, cynical, and said that love was a myth, and only money mattered.

She took the revolver, spun the cylinder, and put it to her temple.

She said aloud, “50 million.

” She pulled the trigger.

A shot rang out.

The fifth death.

Natalia fell forward onto the table, her blood mixing with the remains of food and broken glasses.

Her body convulsed for a few seconds, then went still.

The guards removed the body.

Rashid reloaded his weapon.

Five women remained.

But one of them had not yet gone through the second round.

She was the last, the 15th overall.

Her name was Larisa, a Ukrainian woman, 28 years old, who worked as a translator and spoke four languages.

She came to Dubai for a conference, met Rashid.

He hired her as his personal translator, and a month later, she moved into the villa.

Larisa was educated, read books, and was interested in philosophy.

She took the revolver, looked at it, then at Rashid.

She asked, “Do you understand what you’re doing? That this will change you forever?” Rashid smiled and replied, “I’ve already changed.

” Larisa nodded, spun the cylinder, put it to her temple, and pulled the trigger.

There was no shot.

Now all five remaining women had gone through at least two rounds.

Oksana, Isabella, Rosa, Valeria, Larisa.

Rashid looked at them and said, “Third round.

” He handed the revolver to Oksana.

Oksana took the weapon for the third time.

Her hands were no longer shaking.

She was in a state of shock, beyond fear.

She spun the cylinder, put it to her temple, and pulled the trigger.

The bullet did not fire.

She handed it to Isabella.

Isabella, third round.

She spun the cylinder, put it to her temple, and pulled the trigger.

The gun didn’t work.

She passed it to Rosa.

Rosa, third round.

She prayed, spun the cylinder, put it to her temple, and pulled the trigger.

The cylinder stopped on an empty chamber.

Passed it to Valeria.

Valeria, third round.

She spun the cylinder confidently, put it to her temple, and pulled the trigger.

The revolver did not fire.

Passed it to Larisa.

Larisa, second round for her, third in the overall sequence.

She spun the cylinder, put it to her temple, and pulled the trigger.

A shot rang out.

The sixth death.

Larisa fell forward, her face hitting the table, blood spattering everywhere, covering the remaining women.

Her body slid off the chair and fell to the floor in a position resembling prayer.

Her head pressed to her chest, her arms outstretched.

The guards removed the body.

Rashid reloaded the revolver.

Four women remained.

Oxana, Isabella, Rosa, Valeria.

All had gone through three rounds.

All had survived.

Rashid looked at his watch.

It was almost midnight.

The game had lasted two hours.

Six women were dead, four were alive.

He said, “The last round.

Whoever survives will become my wife.

All four, if they are lucky.

” But he changed the rules.

He took a new revolver out of the box that the guard had brought.

He opened the cylinder and showed that it was empty.

He inserted two bullets instead of one.

He closed the cylinder and spun it.

He said, “Now the odds are one in three instead of one in six.

Let’s raise the stakes.

” The women looked at him unable to protest.

They were beyond words, beyond emotions.

Oxana took the new revolver.

It was heavier than the previous one.

She spun the cylinder, put it to her temple.

Her mind was empty.

No thoughts, just mechanical action.

She pulled the trigger.

There was no shot.

She survived for the fourth time.

Isabella took the revolver, spun the cylinder, put it to her temple, and pulled the trigger.

The cartridge did not fire.

Fourth survival.

Rosa took the revolver and prayed more intensely, her lips moving quickly, the words merging into a continuous stream.

She spun the cylinder, put it to her temple, and pulled the trigger.

The revolver did not fire.

Fourth survival.

Valeria took the revolver, the last of the four.

She looked at Rashid, then at the remaining women.

She spun the cylinder slowly, as if stretching out the moment.

She put it to her temple.

Her finger froze on the trigger.

She stared straight ahead, into the void.

She pulled the trigger.

The gun did not fire.

All four women survived.

Rashid looked at them, then smiled.

He said, “Fate has chosen.

All four of you are worthy.

But I only need three wives, so as not to completely violate Sharia law.

So, we’ll do another round.

Just one shot between the four of you.

” The women looked at him in horror.

Oxana screamed, “No! Enough! We survived! You promised!” Rashid replied calmly, “I promised that the winners would become my wives, but I didn’t say how many winners there would be.

Three or four, I’ll decide now.

” He reloaded the revolver, >> >> this time inserting a single bullet.

He spun the cylinder.

He handed it to Oxana.

Oxana refused to take it, shaking her head and crying.

Rashid ordered a guard to come forward, and he held a knife to Oxana’s throat.

Rashid said, “Either you play, or I’ll kill you right now.

Choose.

” Oxana took the revolver with trembling hands.

She spun the cylinder, put it to her temple, and pulled the trigger.

There was no shot.

She handed it to Isabella, sobbing.

Isabella took the weapon, her composure finally cracking, tears streaming down her face.

She spun the cylinder, put it to her temple, and pulled the trigger.

The cartridge did not fire.

She passed it to Rosa.

Rosa took the revolver, prayed aloud, shouting prayers.

She spun the cylinder, put it to her temple, and pulled the trigger.

The revolver did not fire.

She passed it to Valeria.

Valeria was last.

She took the revolver and looked at it for a long time.

Then she looked at Rashid.

She said quietly, “If I die, you will regret it.

” Rashid laughed and replied, “I never regret anything.

” Valeria spun the cylinder, put it to her temple, closed her eyes, and pulled the trigger.

The gun didn’t work.

All four women survived again.

Rashid looked at them, then at the revolver.

Then he laughed, a long, loud laugh.

He said, “Fate is clear.

All four of you will be my wives.

I will take four instead of three.

Rules are made by people.

I can change them.

” The women sat there, unable to react.

Shock, exhaustion, trauma.

They were alive, but something inside them had died that night.

Rashid ordered the guards to take them to separate rooms, give them water and sedatives.

A doctor examined each of them and gave them sedatives.

The bodies of the six dead women were taken away that same night.

Rashid’s guards took them to the desert, to a place only they knew.

There the bodies were burned in specially prepared pits, and the ashes were scattered on the sand.

No traces, no graves, nothing that could be found.

Four women spent the rest of the night in separate rooms of the villa under the supervision of guards.

The doctor gave each of them sedatives strong enough to help them sleep despite the horror they had experienced.

On the morning of June 24th, Rashid gathered them in the living room.

They sat on the sofas, pale with empty eyes, in the robes they had been given.

The floor of the dining room, where the game had taken place, had been washed, leaving no trace of blood or broken dishes.

Everything looked as if nothing had happened.

Rashid explained his plans.

He would marry all four of them within the next two months.

The official ceremonies would be held separately for each one in accordance with Islamic traditions and legal formalities.

Each would receive a marriage contract guaranteeing $50 million in the event of divorce.

They would live in a villa, each in her own part of the house with separate staff.

Rashid would visit them in turn, as required by Sharia law in cases of polygamy.

But there was a condition.

They had to sign a non-disclosure agreement prohibiting them from telling anyone about the events of the night of June 23rd.

If even one of them broke their silence, the contract for all four would be nullified.

They would be immediately deported without compensation, and Rashid would use all his connections to prosecute them for defamation and breach of contract.

In addition, he hinted that the women’s families could suffer if the information became public.

The women signed the documents.

They had no choice.

They were in a foreign country without money or connections, under the control of a man with enormous power and influence.

Refusing meant returning home empty-handed after everything they had been through.

Signing meant gaining wealth, but living with the memories of six dead women.

The weddings took place between August and October 2018.

Oxana was the first to marry.

The ceremony was held in a private residence with the participation of a religious figure who received a generous reward for keeping quiet about the fact that this was the fifth wife, not the fourth.

Isabella got married in September.

Rosa and Valeria in October.

Each ceremony was registered separately in different Emirates to avoid questions from the authorities about the number of wives.

Officially, four women became the wives of Rashid Al Maktoum.

The contracts were drawn up by lawyers, each document guaranteeing $50 million in the event of divorce, plus monthly maintenance, housing, cars, and servants.

On paper, it looked like a fairy tale about poor girls who became princesses.

In reality, it was a cage built of trauma and fear.

In the first few months after the weddings, the women hardly communicated with each other.

Each lived in her own part of the villa, met with Rashid on schedule, and fulfilled the role of a wife.

But at night, >> >> they were haunted by nightmares.

Oxana woke up from dreams where she saw Karina falling with a bullet in her head, blood flooding the table.

Isabella couldn’t look at metal objects without panicking.

Any glint of metal reminded her of the revolver.

Rosa prayed for hours every day, trying to atone for the guilt of being the survivor.

Valeria began taking large doses of sleeping pills so she wouldn’t see the faces of the dead women.

Rashid behaved as if nothing had happened.

He was attentive, generous, bought gifts, organized trips.

For him, the game was over.

He got what he wanted and moved on.

His friends, the eight men who were present that night, were also silent.

They were bound by a shared secret that could destroy their lives if it became public.

But Oxana couldn’t live with it.

She was the youngest, 23 years old, and the trauma was destroying her from within.

Six months after the wedding, in February 2019, she began looking for a way out of the situation.

She couldn’t just tell the police.

She had no evidence.

The bodies were gone.

There were no video recordings, and the other participants would deny everything.

It would be her word against that of one of the most influential people in Dubai.

Oxana began to explore her options.

She understood that she needed evidence, something tangible that could not be denied.

She remembered seeing one of Rashid’s friends, Sa’id, filming something on his phone during the game.

She wasn’t sure if it was a video or just photos, but it was her only chance.

In March 2019, Oksana contacted a hacker she found through a friend from Ukraine via an encrypted app.

The hacker, who went by the pseudonym Sa’id, agreed to hack Sa’id’s phone for $50,000.

Oksana paid from her monthly allowance, which Rashid transferred to her account.

The process took 2 months.

The hacker used a phishing attack, sending Sa’id a fake message from the bank that contained malware.

When Sa’id opened the link on his phone, the program gained access to the files.

The hacker copied all the contents of the phone, including photos and videos from the past year.

In May 2019, Oksana received the files.

Among thousands of photos and videos, she found what she was looking for.

A video file 2 hours and 17 minutes long, filmed on June 23rd, 2018, starting at 9:00 pm The quality was average.

The phone was held in someone’s hand, and the image sometimes shook, but everything was visible and audible.

The video showed the entire game from start to finish.

Rashid explains the rules.

The women take turns with the revolver.

Shots are fired.

Karina, Amina, Nina, Anastasia, Natalia, and Larisa are killed.

Screams, crying, blood on the table.

Rashid and his friends sitting in chairs watching.

Comments, laughter, bets among themselves on who would survive.

Everything was recorded.

Oksana copied the video onto several flash drives and hid them in different places.

Then she started thinking about what to do with it.

Going to the Dubai police was risky.

Rashid had connections in the police.

The story could be buried, and Oksana would disappear.

She decided she needed to make it public, so public that the authorities couldn’t ignore it.

In June 2019, Oksana created an anonymous email address through a service that protects confidentiality.

She sent the video to several international media outlets at once.

The Guardian in the UK, Al Jazeera in Qatar, The New York Times in the US, Der Spiegel in Germany, and Le Monde in France.

In the letter, she briefly described the situation, gave the names of those involved, the date of the event, and the location.

She did not reveal her identity, signing as a witness.

Al Jazeera was the first to respond.

Journalists checked the video for authenticity, making sure it had not been edited or altered.

They identified Rashid Al Maktoum by his face and confirmed that it was indeed him.

On June 23rd, 2019, exactly 1 year after the event, Al Jazeera published an article on its website with the headline, “Dubai billionaire forced women to play Russian roulette for the right to become his wife.

” The video was posted online with the victims’ faces blurred to protect their identities, but the faces of Rashid and his friends were clearly visible.

The article was accompanied by an investigation in which journalists identified some of the deceased women by comparing them with missing persons reports.

The families of Karina, Amina, Nina, Anastasia, Natalia, and Larisa were found and interviewed.

All confirmed that their daughters had been working in Dubai and had disappeared in the summer of 2018.

The reaction was immediate and global.

The video went viral, garnering 50 million views in the first 48 hours.

The hashtag with Rashida’s name became a trend on social media around the world.

Human rights organizations demanded an investigation.

The governments of several countries where the deceased women came from sent official requests to the UAE authorities.

The Dubai authorities came under enormous pressure.

It was an international scandal that threatened the emirate’s reputation as a safe place for tourists and expatriates.

On June 25th, police arrested Rashid Al Maktoum at his home.

At the same time, eight of his friends who had been present at the villa that night were also arrested.

The investigation was conducted behind closed doors.

The UAE authorities tried to minimize publicity, but information continued to leak out.

It became known that the bodies of six women had indeed been destroyed in the desert.

The location was found based on the testimony of one of Rashid’s security guards, who agreed to cooperate with the investigation in exchange for a reduced sentence.

The remains of bones and teeth were found at the site, which were identified through dental records as belonging to the missing women.

Rashid’s four surviving wives were questioned by the police.

Oksana, Isabella, Rosa, and Valeria gave detailed testimony, confirming everything that was on the video.

Their testimonies matched in every detail.

The doctor who was present at the villa was also arrested and gave testimony, admitting his role.

The trial of Rashid Al Maktoum began in October 2019 in a special criminal court in Dubai.

The trial was closed to the public, but information leaked through lawyers and journalists who had sources in the judicial system.

The prosecution brought six counts of first-degree murder, coercion to participate in a dangerous game, illegal possession of weapons, destruction of evidence, and other crimes.

Rashid’s defense attempted to challenge the video, claiming that it had been edited, that the women had participated voluntarily, and that it was a game that everyone had agreed to.

But expert analysis confirmed the authenticity of the video, and the testimony of the surviving women refuted the claim that it was voluntary.

They described threats of deportation, knives to their throats, and an atmosphere of terror.

The trial lasted 4 months.

On February 27th, 2020, the verdict was handed down.

Rashid Al Maktoum was found guilty on all counts.

The judge sentenced him to life imprisonment without the right to early release.

It was not the death penalty that the victims’ families and international organizations had demanded, but in the UAE, death sentences for people from influential families are extremely rare.

Eight of Rashid’s friends received various sentences ranging from 10 to 25 years for complicity in the crime, failure to assist the victims, and concealment of evidence.

The doctor received 15 years.

The guards who were directly involved in disposing of the bodies received sentences ranging from 7 to 12 years.

After the verdict was handed down, the four surviving women left the UAE.

Their marriage contracts were annulled by the court, and the promised $50 million each was not paid, as the contracts were concluded under duress and were part of a criminal scheme.

Rashid’s assets were frozen, and most of them went to pay compensation to the victims’ families.

Oksana was granted asylum in Norway, where she had a distant relative.

The Norwegian government awarded her $1 million in compensation for the trauma she had suffered, and also paid for psychological help.

Isabella returned to Brazil, where she received similar compensation from the Brazilian government and protection from possible persecution.

Rosa left for Canada, where the Filipino community helped her settle in and find a job.

Valeria settled in Spain, where the Colombian government provided her with security and financial support.

All four women gave interviews to various media outlets, telling their stories.

They talked about how they fell into a trap of greed and naivety, how dreams of wealth led them into a nightmare, how they survived thanks to luck rather than personal qualities.

They talked about the six women who died and how no amount of money is worth a human life.

The families of the deceased women filed a class action lawsuit against Rashid Al Maktoum’s estate.

In July 2020, the court ruled to pay each family $20 million in compensation for a total of $120 million.

The money was taken from Rashid’s frozen assets, including the sale of his hotels, villas on Palm Jumeirah, and investment portfolios.

The story has been widely covered in documentaries and books.

Netflix released a documentary series in 2021 called The Sheikh’s Bet, which featured interviews with survivors, victims’ families, investigators, and women’s rights experts.

The series sparked discussions about the status of migrant women in the Gulf countries, the kafala system, which gives employers enormous power over foreign workers, and the culture of impunity for wealthy people.

Under pressure from the international community, the UAE government amended its legislation.

Rules were tightened to control private homes and villas where people could be held against their will.

The police created a special unit to investigate cases of human trafficking and forced labor.

Stricter penalties were introduced for crimes against foreign workers.

But for the four women who survived, no laws could bring back what they had lost.

In an interview with The Guardian in 2022, Oksana said that every night she wakes up from nightmares in which she is holding a revolver to her temple again.

Here’s the metallic sound of the spinning cylinder and sees the faces of dead women.

No amount of money, no amount of justice can erase the memories of that night.

Isabella returned to work as a fitness instructor in Rio de Janeiro, but admitted that she cannot stay in closed spaces for long without starting to panic.

That sometimes she sees men on the street who resemble Rashid or his friends and she is overcome with fear.

Rosa has dedicated her life to working with victims of domestic violence and human trafficking in Toronto saying that helping others helps her cope with her own trauma.

Valeria wrote a book about her experience, which became a best-seller in Spain and has been translated into 12 languages.

The families of the six women who died used the compensation they received in different ways.

Karina’s parents in Ukraine set up a charitable foundation to help young women who want to go abroad to work providing them with information about the risks and legal support.

Amina’s family in Morocco built a school for girls in their village, naming it after their deceased daughter.

Nina’s parents in Thailand used the money to educate their younger children and help the local community.

Rashid Al Maktoum is serving a life sentence in a maximum security prison in the Emirate of Abu Dhabi.

He is reportedly being held in a separate cell for security reasons as other prisoners have threatened to kill him.

His family has publicly disowned him saying that his actions are a disgrace to the family and contrary to Islamic values.

His former official wives have divorced him and received compensation under their marriage contracts.

The story of 12 women gathered for dinner, half of whom died in a game invented by a wealthy man, has become a symbol of the extremes to which power and wealth can go when they are not restrained by morality or law.

It showed the dark side of a world of luxury and privilege where human life becomes a stake in a game where fates are decided by the spin of a revolver cylinder.

For the surviving women, the story did not end with the verdict or compensation.

They continue to live with the consequences of what they have experienced.

But they also became voices speaking on behalf of those who cannot speak for themselves, reminding the world of the six women whose lives were cut short for the sake of one man’s twisted whim.

And that justice, even if belated, >> >> is still possible when there is the courage to speak the truth despite fear and threats.

Two gunshots echoed through level three of Mercy Point Hospital’s parking garage on November 14th, 2024 at exactly 11:02 pm By the time security reached the Honda Accord idling in section B.

Two people were dead, and a 5-year lie had finally caught up with them.

What they found inside wasn’t just a murder suicide.

It was the devastating end of a relationship that had survived in shadows for 1,825 days, hidden behind hospital scrubs and police badges, built on promises that evaporated like morning fog.

The killer was a decorated police officer with two daughters and a wife at home.

The victim was a Filipino nurse who’d come to America chasing dreams, but found herself trapped in someone else’s nightmare.

This isn’t just another crime story.

This is a deep dive into what happens when love becomes possession.

When goodbye becomes impossible, and when the person you can’t live without becomes the person you can’t let leave.

Tonight, we’re taking you inside one of the most heartbreaking cases of forbidden love turned fatal, where a single word, no, became a death sentence.

Her name was Elise Marie Ramos.

And if you had passed her in the hallways of Mercy Point Hospital 7 months before that November night, you would have seen exactly what she wanted you to see.

A competent, composed nurse who arrived early, stayed late, and never complained about the worst shifts.

You would have noticed her quiet efficiency during codes.

The way she mentored younger nurses without making them feel stupid, and how she always had rosary beads in her scrub pocket, even though she hadn’t been to mass in 3 years.

What you wouldn’t have seen was the burner phone hidden in her locker.

the second life she’d been living since 2019, or the suffocating weight of shame she carried every time she video called her father in Manila and lied about why she still wasn’t married at 32.

Elise had been born in a small neighborhood outside Manila to Ralpho Ramos, a retired school teacher, and Carmen Ramos, a seamstress who died of breast cancer in 2018.

She’d moved to the United States at 24 on a nursing visa, carrying her mother’s rosary, her father’s expectations, and a dream that America would give her the life the Philippines couldn’t.

7 years later, she was an emergency department nurse at Mercy Point, sending $800 home every month without fail and living a double life that would have destroyed her family if they’d known the truth.

In Filipino culture, family honor wasn’t just important, it was oxygen.

Being the other woman, the mistress, the cabbitt, that was the kind of shame that followed you across oceans and into graves.

So Elise perfected the art of compartmentalization.

The devoted daughter on Sunday morning video calls, the respected nurse during 12-hour ER shifts, and the secret lover on Tuesday and Thursday nights when the man she’d been waiting for finally had time for her.

Her co-workers called her the steady one.

They had no idea she’d been drowning for half a decade.

Mark Anthony Delaney was 38 years old and had been wearing a Riverside Metro Police Department badge for 14 years.

If you’d met him at his daughter’s soccer game or seen him at the annual police charity fundraiser, you would have thought he was exactly what a good cop should be.

Decorated for bravery, known for deescalating tense situations, the kind of officer who remembered victims names years after their cases closed.

His colleagues respected him.

His daughters adored him.

His wife, Jennifer, had loved him once before the marriage became a performance they both pretended to believe in.

Mark had grown up in Riverside’s working-class neighborhood.

The son of a firefighter father who taught him that real men don’t quit.

Real men don’t cry, and real men finish what they start, no matter the cost.

His father had died 3 years ago from a heart attack, and Mark had cried once at the funeral where it was acceptable, and never again.

His mother now lived in an assisted living facility with earlystage dementia, calling him by his father’s name half the time.

He’d married Jennifer Morrison 12 years ago in a church ceremony his father had insisted on, and they’d built what looked like the perfect life.

A house in Asheford Heights with a backyard big enough for the girls to play.

Soccer practice on Saturdays, church on Sundays, Christmas cards with everyone smiling.

From the outside, they were flawless.

From the inside, they were strangers sharing a mortgage and a last name.

Mark couldn’t remember the last time Jennifer had looked at him with anything other than exhaustion or obligation.

Couldn’t remember the last time they talked about anything that mattered.

Couldn’t remember feeling seen by anyone until a Tuesday night in October 2019 when nurse Elise Ramos touched his injured shoulder and asked, “Does it hurt here?” And he’d felt something he hadn’t felt in years.

Noticed.

But before we reveal how a shoulder injury became a 5-year affair that ended in murder, you need to understand what November 14th, 2024 looked like before the bullets.

Because this wasn’t a spontaneous act of rage.

This was the inevitable conclusion of a relationship built on lies sustained by secrecy and destroyed by one person’s desperate need for control.

On November 14th, Mark Delaney was living in a $45 a night motel room because his wife had changed the locks 3 weeks earlier after finding phone records that revealed what she’d suspected for years.

He was drinking bottom shelf whiskey for breakfast and facing an internal affairs investigation that could cost him his badge, his pension, and possibly his freedom.

His patrol partner had started asking questions he couldn’t answer, and his daughters hadn’t returned his calls in days.

In Mark’s fractured mind, Elise wasn’t just the woman he loved.

She was the only witness to his double life, the only person who could destroy him completely and the only thing he still believed he could control.

On November 14th, Elise Ramos was exactly 47 minutes away from freedom.

She’d finally made the decision she should have made 5 years earlier to end the affair, return Mark’s belongings, and start building a life that didn’t require lies.

She had a date planned for Friday with David Chun, a physical therapist who’d asked her to dinner three times before she’d finally said yes.

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