Chapter 30 · Chapter 30

The silence that settled over the desk was thick, broken only by the faint hum of the air conditioning against the heavy stone walls. Majed did not lift his fingers from mine immediately; the heat of his palm anchored me to the polished timber, steadying the tremor that had threatened to surface beneath my ribs.

When he finally drew back, his white cuffs fell neatly into place, his gaze resting upon my face with the quiet appraisal of an ally who knew the weight of every syllable spoken.

"He will ring the secondary line," I said, looking at the illuminated console beside the brass lamp. "He thinks if he hammers against the exterior cables long enough, someone inside will open the latch out of fatigue."

"Then take that illusion from him as well," Majed replied quietly. His voice held no anger, only the cold, impenetrable calm that governed this entire wing. "The house answers to the one who holds the key, Dalal. You are not a guest waiting on an uncle’s indulgence."

I reached out and pressed the master intercom switch that connected directly to the service vestibule at the far end of the corridor.