Chapter 19 · Untitled Chapter

The quiet after Abu Tariq’s departure did not last until sunrise. Beyond the courtyard, the low rumble of idling engines vibrated through the perimeter wall, a persistent reminder of the black SUVs lined up along the asphalt outside. The watchers had not moved. Their presence hung like a dead weight against the heavy iron gate.

A sharp, hesitant rap sounded against the cedar door at the end of the corridor leading from the private wing into the foyer.

Bandar did not rise immediately from the low divan where he had set his finjan. His white thobe was immaculate, the stiff collar unfastened by a single notch, his posture rooted in that cold, immobile stillness that always made lesser men lower their voices. When he looked at me, there was no panic in his gaze—only the silent calculation of a man who measured every threat against the ledger of his own name.

"Stay behind me, Noura," he said evenly, his voice dropping into that quiet, gravelly cadence.

I drew the black tarha firmly over my dark hair, smoothing the fold of my silk abaya as I stepped into the foyer behind him.