Chapter 35 · Untitled Chapter

The silence that followed was absolute. Abu Tariq looked toward the threshold, then back to the desk, his hands resting uncertainly on the calfskin folder he had carried into the house. Whatever rebuttal had been drafted in the corporate offices across northern Riyadh withered beneath Mansour’s steady gaze.

Mansour did not offer coffee. The brass Dallah on the low side table remained untouched, its cardamom steam long faded, a clear sign that hospitality had reached its formal end. He brought his right hand down upon the thick, leather-bound master ledger of the Al-Enezi estate, the heavy brass clasps snapping shut with a dry, final crack that echoed against the limestone arches.

"The ledger does not reopen," Mansour said, his voice level, carrying the quiet weight of authority that left no room for appeal. "Every deed, every allocation, and every title contested since the winter settlement now rests where the law placed them. You have your copies stamped by the commercial court. There is nothing left on this table for your committee."

"Mansour," the older man ventured, attempting a gentler tone, stepping back toward the gallery doors. "The partners only wished to ensure there was no confusion regarding the eastern parcels.