Chapter 7

Hala Al-Khoury gripped Layla Ghazi's arm, her fingers digging into the fabric of Layla's sleeve. Her voice was a sharp whisper, dripping with a false sense of sisterly concern. “Layla, look at yourself. You've recovered your beauty. Why waste it on a man who has nothing? Manager Saab is offering you a golden ladder. All you have to do is be smart for one night. Think about the Ghazi Group. Think about your future.” Layla pulled her arm back, her expression hardening. The nervousness that usually clouded her eyes cleared, replaced by a cold, steady resolve. “I am a married woman, Hala. I came here for a professional meeting, not to be brokered like a piece of meat. My husband is Tariq, and I don't need any other ladders.” Fahd Saab stood nearby, straightening his tie with an arrogant smirk, his eyes roaming over Layla's face with predatory intent. He didn't seem to hear the rejection, or perhaps he simply didn't care. Tariq Al-Farsi stepped forward, his massive frame casting a long shadow over the manager. He didn't raise his voice, but the weight of his presence made the air in the lobby feel heavy. “You've said enough,” Tariq directed at Fahd. “Both of you. Get out of our sight.” Fahd let out a harsh, disbelieving laugh. “You're telling me to leave? Do you know where you are? This is Najm Group. I am the manager here. You're just a piece of trash escorting a failure.” Tariq ignored the insult, turning to Layla with a calm, encouraging nod. He gestured toward the elevators. “Ignore the flies, Layla. Go up. The chairman is waiting to meet you personally.” “The chairman?” Hala scoffed, her face twisting into a mask of derision. “Sami Haddad doesn't even see CEOs of major firms without a month's notice. Who do you think you are, telling her to just walk in?” While they bickered in the lobby, Sami Haddad was pacing the floor of his executive office on the top floor. He checked his watch for the tenth time in five minutes. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He had been waiting since the early morning hours, his nerves frayed by the gravity of the person he was expecting. The Al Qaid Al-Azam had summoned him, and every second Layla Ghazi was not in his presence was a second he spent on the edge of a precipice. Unable to sit still any longer, Sami adjusted his suit jacket and hurried toward the private elevator. If she wasn't coming up, he would go down. He couldn't risk a single misunderstanding. The elevator doors slid open in the lobby just as Fahd Saab was leaning into Layla's space, his voice low and threatening. Sami Haddad stepped out, his eyes scanning the room with frantic intensity. He stopped dead when he saw the group. His gaze landed on Tariq Al-Farsi. Sami's knees momentarily weakened. He began to stride forward, his hand instinctively rising to a salute, his mouth opening to utter the title that commanded respect across all of Shams. “Gen—” Tariq's eyes met his. It was a cold, piercing look that acted like a physical barrier. Sami choked on the word, his face turning pale as he realized he had almost exposed the man's identity in a public lobby. He swallowed hard, shifting his posture instantly into a deep, subservient bow, though he kept his eyes lowered. “Chairman!” Fahd Saab cried out, misinterpreting Sami's sudden arrival as a sign of executive discipline. He pointed a finger at Tariq and Layla. “These people are causing a scene. This woman's classmate, Hala, brought her here to discuss a deal, but they've been nothing but disrespectful. I was just about to have security throw them out.” Tariq stepped closer to Sami, his voice level and cold. “Is this how Najm Group conducts its business, Chairman Haddad? By allowing its managers to solicit women in exchange for contracts?” Sami's head snapped up, his face turning a dark shade of red. He looked at Fahd, then at Hala, who was suddenly looking very small. “What did you say?” Sami's voice trembled with suppressed rage. “He told me that if I didn't go to a hotel with him, I would be permanently excluded from ever doing business with Najm Group,” Layla said, her voice shaking but clear. Fahd Saab's ugly expression returned. He didn't realize the danger he was in. “Chairman, she's lying! She's just a third-rate member of the Ghazi family trying to use her looks to confuse the situation. I was upholding the standards of the company!” “Standards?” Sami Haddad roared, the sound echoing through the marble lobby. He turned on Fahd like a cornered predator. “You use my company's name to threaten and harass guests? You use your position to extort women?” “Chairman, I—” Fahd began to sweat, the arrogance draining from his face as he saw the genuine fury in Sami's eyes. “You're fired,” Sami barked. “Effective immediately. I want your desk cleared, your access revoked, and a full audit of every contract you've touched in the last year. If I find one cent missing or one more person you've harassed, I'll ensure you spend the next decade in a cell.” Fahd staggered back as if he'd been struck. “But... Chairman, I've been with the firm for five years! You can't fire me over some nobody's accusation!” “Get out!” Sami pointed at the door. He then turned his gaze toward Hala Al-Khoury. “And you. You are a department head who facilitates this? You are fired as well. Leave this building before I have security drag you out in handcuffs.” Hala opened her mouth to plead, her eyes welling with tears of shock, but the look on Sami's face was final. She and Fahd were ushered toward the exit by two stone-faced security guards who had materialized at Sami's silent signal. Sami turned back to Layla, his demeanor shifting instantly from a roaring lion to a humble servant. He bowed again, lower this time. “Mrs. Ghazi, please accept my most sincere apologies for the conduct of these... these animals. It would be my greatest honor if you would accompany me to my office so we can discuss your business properly.” Layla looked at Sami, then at Tariq, her eyes wide with confusion. “To your office? But... I didn't even have a formal appointment with you. I was just hoping to see a manager.” Tariq gave her a gentle push toward the chairman. “He's offering, Layla. Don't be polite. Go and get what you came for.” Layla hesitated, her heart hammering against her ribs. “Tariq, are you sure? This is the chairman. I... I don't even have my full presentation ready.” “You don't need a presentation,” Tariq said, his voice a warm anchor in her sea of doubt. “He knows who you are. Go.” Sami Haddad remained in his bow until Layla took a step toward him. “Please, Mrs. Ghazi. This way.” As the elevator doors closed on Layla and the bowing chairman, Tariq turned and walked out of the building. Karim was waiting by the multi-purpose vehicle, leaning against the door. He didn't say a word as Tariq climbed into the passenger seat. Tariq pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lit one, and handed another to Karim. The smoke curled in the quiet interior of the car. “General,” Karim said, his voice low, “you could have just taken the Najm Group. Why the theater with the chairman? Why let her think she's winning a contract when you could give her the whole company?” Tariq exhaled a long cloud of smoke, staring out at the glass facade of the Najm building. “I don't want Najm Group, Karim. I want Layla to have her own pride. She's spent ten years being told she's nothing. If I just hand her a kingdom, she'll never believe she earned it. I support her endeavors; I don't replace them.” Karim nodded, a look of realization crossing his face. “I understand. My apologies for the title, sir. I'll keep it to Tariq in public.” Tariq gave a short, sharp nod. “See that you do.” Upstairs, the atmosphere was vastly different. Sami Haddad had ushered Layla into a sprawling office that overlooked the entire city of Al-Waha. He didn't sit behind his desk. Instead, he hurried to a side table where a premium tea set was laid out. “Please, sit, Mrs. Ghazi,” Sami said, his hands moving with practiced efficiency. “Oh, let me do that, Chairman,” Layla said, starting to rise. “I shouldn't let you serve me.” “No, no! I insist,” Sami said, his voice nearly cracking with urgency. He poured the tea with the care one might give to an ancient relic. “It is rare that we have a guest of your stature. Now, about the business. I understand your family was looking for an order. I've looked over the Ghazi Group's profile. We have a project opening up—a major infrastructure development. I would like to offer you an initial contract of one hundred million dollars.” Layla, who had just taken a sip of tea, nearly choked. She set the cup down with a clatter. “One hundred million? Chairman, my grandfather only asked for thirty million. We... we don't have the capacity for a hundred million right now.” Sami didn't blink. He leaned forward, his expression earnest. “If a hundred is too little, we can increase it. We can make it five hundred million. Najm Group will provide the upfront capital for the expansion of your facilities. We want a long-term partnership with you, Mrs. Ghazi. Not the Ghazis—with you.” Layla's head spun. Five hundred million? The commission on such a deal—at a standard twenty percent—would be a hundred million dollars alone. It was more money than the entire Ghazi family had seen in three generations. “I... I can't,” Layla stammered, her face pale. “One hundred million. Let's start with one hundred million. That is already more than I ever dreamed of.” “As you wish,” Sami said, sounding almost disappointed that he couldn't give her more. He pulled a pre-prepared contract from his desk—one that had been drafted the moment he received Tariq's instructions—and laid it before her. Layla's hand trembled as she signed the document. It felt surreal. She had walked into the building expecting to be insulted and rejected, and she was walking out with a hundred-million-dollar lifeline. Sami handed her a gold-embossed business card. “This is my private line. If anyone, inside or outside of Najm Group, gives you any trouble, you call me directly. We are partners now.” He never once mentioned Tariq. He didn't have to. When Layla finally walked back out to the car where Tariq was waiting, she looked like she was walking on air. She climbed into the seat and grabbed Tariq's arm, her eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and disbelief. “Honey, you won't believe it,” she breathed, the words tumbling out of her. “I think Sami Haddad is trying to get into my good books. I barely said two words before he gave me an order worth a hundred million dollars. Actually, he wanted to give me an order worth five hundred million! He was so polite, he even made the tea himself.” Tariq smiled, a small, knowing curve of his lips. “Maybe you've met him before? Or maybe he just recognizes talent when he sees it.” Layla rolled her eyes, leaning back into the leather seat as Karim pulled the car away from the curb. “Don't be silly. I've never met a man like that in my life. He's from the Al-Asimah families.” She paused, her gaze shifting to Tariq, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied his calm profile. “Tariq... he didn't even look at my presentation. He just kept looking at the door, like he was waiting for someone. And the way he acted when he saw us in the lobby...” She gripped his hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Is it you? Did you do something to make him this generous?” Tariq looked out the window, the city lights reflecting in his eyes. “I just told him a very important guest was coming. The rest was all you, Layla.” Layla looked at the contract in her lap, then back at her husband, the weight of the hundred-million-dollar deal suddenly feeling like the smallest part of the mystery sitting beside her. ════════════════════════════════════════