Chapter 16

Lina Quinn's eyes narrowed as Huda Al-Amri's voice shrilled through the lobby of Al-Badr Gallery. The manager's gaze flicked between the disheveled man standing by the entrance and the head receptionist, whose face was flushed with a mixture of arrogance and indignation. Tariq Murad remained motionless, his features an unreadable mask, while he slowly reached into his pocket and withdrew a smartphone. He didn't utter a word, his thumb swiping across the screen with a deliberate, rhythmic precision that seemed to ignore the chaos swirling around him. Huda took his silence as a sign of weakness, her chest heaving as she turned back to Lina. "Manager Quinn, look at this! This lowlife stands there playing with his phone while I'm trying to maintain the prestige of this establishment. He has no respect for the gallery, no respect for you, and certainly no business being here. He's a stain on our reputation just by breathing the same air as our elite clients!" Lina Quinn didn't immediately respond. She watched Tariq's hands, noting the steady grip on the device. There was a strange disconnect between his cheap attire and the cold, focused energy radiating from him. However, the schedule was pressing. The ownership transfer was finalized, and the mysterious individual who now held the keys to her future was expected at any moment. "Call security then," Huda bellowed, her finger pointing aggressively at Tariq's chest. "Throw him out onto the sidewalk where he belongs. We can't have the new owner arriving to see a delivery man loitering in the foyer. It would be a disaster for your career, Manager!" Lina adjusted her suit jacket, her expression hardening into a mask of professional efficiency. "Enough, Huda. I will handle the security protocols. You, get the rest of the staff in line. We need to be ready to welcome the guest. The new owner is not someone we can afford to keep waiting even for a second. Clear the entrance and ensure the gold-leaf doors are polished." Huda smirked at Tariq, a triumphant glint in her eyes. "You heard her. Your time is up." At that exact moment, the phone in Lina Quinn's hand vibrated. The screen displayed a private, encrypted number associated with the new acquisition. Her heart skipped a beat. She signaled for Huda to be silent and answered the call with a voice that transformed instantly into a sugary, melodic hum of submission. "Good afternoon, Sir," Lina said, her posture softening into a slight, instinctive tilt. "This is Lina Quinn, the manager of Al-Badr Gallery. I have been waiting anxiously for your arrival. Everything is prepared for your reception. Please, tell me where you are so I may come out and personally escort you inside. It would be my greatest honor to receive you." The voice that came through the speaker was not the booming, elderly tone of a seasoned tycoon she had expected. It was calm, low, and laced with a biting edge of displeasure. "Look behind you," Tariq said. The phone line remained open, the static hum of the connection mirroring the sudden, icy silence that gripped the lobby. Lina Quinn froze. The voice on the phone hadn't just come from the speaker; she had heard the physical echo of it vibrating in the air directly in front of her. Slowly, her neck stiffening with a sense of impending dread, Lina lowered the phone. She looked past Huda's confused expression and locked eyes with the man in the worn jacket. Tariq Murad was still holding his phone to his ear, his gaze boring into hers with the weight of a mountain. The realization hit her like a physical blow. The blood drained from Lina's face, leaving her ghostly pale. This was the man who had purchased Al-Badr Gallery with a single directive. This was the man who held the contract to her life and career. "You..." Lina stammered, the phone nearly slipping from her trembling fingers. "You are... the new owner?" She didn't wait for a verbal confirmation. The authority in his eyes was more binding than any legal document. In an instant, the poised, cold manager of the city's most prestigious gallery collapsed into a deep, ninety-degree bow. Her forehead was almost parallel to the floor, her hands shaking at her sides. "I am sorry! Please, Sir, forgive my blindness!" Lina's voice was no longer sweet; it was thick with terror, cracking as she spoke to the floorboards. "I did not recognize you. I have failed in my duties. I am a fool, a complete and utter fool. Please, Master Murad, I beg for your mercy!" Tariq lowered his phone, his expression darkening. "I arrive at my own property and I am greeted with threats of security and insults about my status. Is this how you manage my assets, Lina Quinn?" "No, Sir! Never!" she cried out, her body shivering. Lina Quinn was twenty years old, a woman who had spent two decades guarding her reputation and her chastity with fierce ambition, hoping to one day climb the social ladder of Madinat Al-Waha. She had clawed her way to this position, serving under Mazen Al-Ghamdi, a man whose underground influence was backed by a net worth of three hundred million. She had seen power before, but she knew the hierarchy. Mazen Al-Ghamdi, the man she once feared, was nothing more than a subordinate to the city's wealthiest titan, Fahd Abbas. And here, standing before her in clothes that wouldn't buy a meal at a high-end restaurant, was the man whom Fahd Abbas served with terrifying devotion. She was looking at the apex. Tariq Murad wasn't just a wealthy buyer; he was the hidden master of the forces that ran the city. The sheer scale of her mistake felt like a death sentence. If he whispered a single word of dissatisfaction to Fahd Abbas, she wouldn't just lose her job; she would vanish from the professional world entirely. Tariq took a step forward, the sound of his shoes echoing like thunder in the silent room. Huda Al-Amri stood paralyzed, her mouth hanging open as she watched the most powerful woman she knew groveling at the feet of a man she had just called a lowlife. "Your receptionists have very loud voices," Tariq remarked, his tone devoid of warmth. "They seem to think they decide who is worthy of entering these doors." Lina remained in her bow, her eyes shut tight, terrified of the judgment that was about to fall. The power dynamic in the room had shifted so violently that the air itself felt heavy, pressured by the presence of the young master who had finally decided to step out of the shadows. Huda's face went from pale to a sickly shade of grey. Her knees buckled, but she forced herself to stay upright, her mind racing to find a way to undo the last ten minutes. She looked at Tariq, then at the trembling Lina Quinn, and realized the magnitude of the cliff she had just walked off. ════════════════════════════════════════