Chapter 14

The lamps flanking the heavy oak doors of the Farsi Estate hall flickered to life, bathing the entrance in a warm, amber glow. A young man stepped through the threshold, his posture straight and his suit tailored to a sharp, modern edge. "Mr. Khalid Saab is here!" a young man from the Farsi clan shouted, his voice carrying a note of reverence that rippled through the gathering. Applause erupted instantly, a rhythmic thrumming of palms that echoed off the high ceilings. The Farsi family members, who had been huddled in tense pockets of conversation about the Mansour Corporation investment, now surged forward like a tide. They cleared a path for Khalid, their faces bright with the kind of genuine warmth they never afforded the man currently sitting in the corner. Khalid walked to the center of the hall, stopping directly before Kamal Al-Farsi. He didn't wait for an introduction. He stood with his chin tilted up, radiating the effortless confidence of a man who knew his value in a room full of social climbers. "Grandfather Kamal," Khalid said, his voice booming to ensure every ear in the hall caught his words. "I won't beat around the bush. I have come here tonight with a singular purpose. I want to marry Layla." The room fell into a sudden, expectant silence. Khalid didn't glance at Tariq; he spoke as if the marriage between Tariq and Layla was a mere clerical error currently being corrected. "I know she is legally bound to another right now," Khalid continued, his tone turning ambitious and loud. "But we all know that is a shadow of a marriage. I am here to offer her a future. I want to make Layla the happiest woman in this city, and I have the means to ensure she never wants for anything again." Lina Haddad leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with an intensity that bordered on hunger. Kamal Al-Farsi remained seated, but his grip on his cane tightened, his weathered face showing a rare flicker of profound interest. Khalid reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. He held it up between two fingers, waving it slightly so the light caught the watermark. "To prove my sincerity, I have brought a betrothal gift," Khalid announced. "This is a cash check for ten million dollars. It is a down payment on our life together." A collective gasp swept through the hall. Ten million dollars in liquid cash was a staggering sum, even for the Farsis. But Khalid wasn't finished. "Furthermore," he said, turning slightly to address the wider circle of family members, "I am prepared to transfer my entire real estate portfolio—tens of millions of dollars in property—directly into Layla's name the moment the divorce papers are signed. She will not just be a wife; she will be a woman of independent, massive wealth." "Ten million... in cash?" someone whispered. "And the properties," another added, shaking their head in disbelief. "That's more than the entire net worth of some of our subsidiaries." The atmosphere in the room shifted from mere approval to a feverish awe. The Farsi cousins looked at one another with wide eyes, already calculating how this infusion of wealth and Khalid's connection to the Mansour Corporation would elevate their own standing. Kamal Al-Farsi let out a slow, satisfied breath, his eyes fixed on the check. To him, this wasn't just a marriage proposal; it was a corporate merger that saved the family's flagging ambitions. Khalid turned his gaze toward Layla. She sat stiffly, her hands pressed together in her lap. Her expression was unreadable, a mask of cold hesitation, but Khalid took her silence as an invitation to press his advantage. He stepped closer, his eyes dropping to the delicate, shimmering ornament pinned to her dress. "I see you're wearing it, Layla," Khalid said, his voice dropping into a proud, intimate register that suggested a shared secret. "I was worried the delivery might be delayed, but the Al-Quds roses arrived on time, didn't they?" Layla's eyes widened slightly. She looked down at the 'Qalb Dubai' brooch, the centerpiece of the legendary floral arrangement she had received earlier. "You like the 'Qalb Dubai'?" Khalid asked, flashing a winning smile at the crowd. "It took a significant amount of effort and quite a few favors to secure that piece from Al-Quds. I felt only a gem of that caliber was fit for you." The mention of the 'Qalb Dubai' sent a fresh shockwave through the Farsi family. The brooch was more than jewelry; it was a masterpiece of Al-Quds craftsmanship, a symbol of extreme influence and elite status that money alone usually couldn't buy. "He got her the Qalb Dubai?" Yasmin whispered, her voice tinged with a rare note of genuine jealousy. "I thought those were only reserved for royalty or the highest-ranking officials." "Khalid is even more powerful than we thought," Lina Haddad murmured, her chest swelling with pride. She looked at the brooch on her daughter's chest as if it were a trophy she had won herself. "To have the reach to bring something from Al-Quds... it's incredible." Layla remained silent, her fingers hovering near the brooch. She looked at Khalid, her brow furrowing as she tried to reconcile the gift with the man standing before her. She hadn't expected him to be the sender, yet here he was, claiming every petal and every facet of the diamond. In the corner of the room, tucked away from the light and the laughter, Tariq Mansour sat perfectly still. He watched Khalid's smug performance, listening to the man weave a web of lies out of thin air. The 'Qalb Dubai' had been carved and sent under his own specific orders. He knew exactly which craftsman had touched it and exactly how much it had cost his own accounts. To see Khalid standing there, basking in the stolen glow of his gesture, felt like a cold blade sliding between his ribs. The audacity of the lie was a physical weight in the room. Tariq felt a heat rising in his chest, a sharp, focused anger that cut through his usual mask of submission. He looked at Layla, who was being pressured by the expectant stares of her entire family to thank the imposter. Tariq's chair scraped loudly against the floor as he stood up. The sound was jarring, a discordant note in the middle of Khalid's symphony. The laughter died down as heads turned toward the man they had spent the evening ignoring. Tariq didn't look at the family; his eyes were locked onto Khalid Saab. ════════════════════════════════════════