# The House Bag Author: Nadia Vale Site: ReadNovelHub Canonical: https://readnovelhub.com/novel/the-house-bag Genre: Contemporary novels ## World He saves her reputation in public—then locks the door and demands the truth in private. ## Tropes - Billionaire Romance - Contemporary novels ## FAQ ### What is The House Bag about? He saves her reputation in public—then locks the door and demands the truth in private. ### Who is the author of The House Bag? The House Bag is written by Nadia Vale. Read Chapter 1 free on ReadNovelHub. ### Is The House Bag a Billionaire Romance story? Yes. The House Bag is tagged for Billionaire Romance readers looking for North American romance-fantasy tropes. ### Can I read The House Bag Chapter 1 for free? Yes. Chapter 1-5 Free. Weekly VIP trial from Chapter 6. Start The House Bag on ReadNovelHub. ### What happens at the start of The House Bag? The bag is on the table before anyone asks me for it. The clasp is open. Whoever opened it did it while the Gahwa was going round, and the Finjan is still in my hand, half full, because no one takes a cup back from a wom ## Chapter 1 teaser ### Chapter 1 The bag is on the table before anyone asks me for it. The clasp is open. Whoever opened it did it while the Gahwa was going round, and the Finjan is still in my hand, half full, because no one takes a cup back from a woman to accuse her. "Lip salve," the woman on the left says, and holds it up. "A pen. A key. A card with no name on it." The key opens nothing anymore. I let them have it. The hall smells of Oud and of Abayas that have been sitting in cars. My Tarha is pinned where I put it this morning. I do not touch it. To touch it would be to answer. At the bottom, flat against the lining, a folded slip. A number, in a hand that would be mine if I were better at lying. The woman reads it out the way she reads a receipt. "Whose?" Nobody says my name. That is how a room says it. Across the majlis, at the Sadr, Marzouq Al-Falih is sitting with a Misbaha in his fingers, and he has not moved it once since the clasp came open. His Thobe is white to the collar. He does not look at the woman holding the slip. He looks at me, and the look is not warm and not kind, and it is not a thing I can refuse in front of these people. "Mine," he says. The Gahwa in my Finjan has gone cold against my palm. My cuff has come loose at the button, and I press it flat to my wrist so no one sees my fingers. For a while the room only breathes. Two families, one long wall of men on the right, the women behind a screen of Abayas on the left, and the marble table between us holding a lip salve, a pen, a key, a card, and a slip of paper with nine digits on it. Then Ammi sits forward. He is the eldest of the Al-Sulaim in this hall tonight, and he has been holding his own cup without drinking from it. "A number is not a name," he says. "It is now," Marzouq says. "Ya ustadh," one of the younger men from Read free: https://readnovelhub.com/novel/the-house-bag/chapter/1