Chapter 49

Tariq Al-Farsi stood over the trembling woman, his shadow stretching across the floor like a shroud. The air in the room felt heavy, charged with a decade of suppressed slaughter. He looked down at Nour Sharif, his eyes devoid of the apathy he usually showed the world. In its place was a localized storm of pure, unadulterated hatred. "You're asking me what I want, Nour?" Tariq's voice rose, a roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of the villa. "You're the reason my grandfather was...