Chapter 42

Dalia Al-Khouri leaned against the polished mahogany desk, her eyes tracing Tariq's worn attire with a mixture of boredom and disdain. "How could such a useless person like him afford to buy literally any car in this Al-Buraq City?" she muttered under her breath, loud enough for the air to carry the sting. To her, every stitch of his clothing screamed of a man who belonged in a bargain basement, not a high-end showroom where the air-conditioning alone cost more than his monthly rent. She straightened...