Chapter 43

The Malik Al-Gharb paced the length of the room, his boots striking the floor with rhythmic, heavy thuds. He stopped abruptly, his eyes narrowing as he glared at the man standing before him. "Zayd was my subordinate," he barked, the veins in his neck bulging. "He followed my orders for years. You killed him, and you think you can just stand there with that look on your face?" Tariq Al-Farsi didn't flinch. He leaned against the doorframe, his posture radiating a cold, effortless apathy. "So...