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38Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKiS09qYZph
The cold night air slapped her in the face when she stepped outside. It was a relief after the suffocating heat of the club. The street buzzed with life — people talking, car horns blaring, neon signs flickering in the distance.
She leaned against the wall for a moment, her head spinning. Her heart still felt too fast, like her body hadn't caught up with her mind yet.
Adam's voice echoed in her memory — his laugh, his easygoing smile, the way he'd ruffled her hair when they were kids and called her "kiddo" even though she wasn't that much younger than him.
He wasn't just her Friend. He was her best friend. He was family.
And she wasn't going to lose him.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, jolting her out of her thoughts.
She fumbled for it, her fingers cold and stiff. The screen lit up with a message from Zayd's number.
Her heart stopped.
For a second, she couldn't breathe.
She stared at the screen, her pulse roaring in her ears.
The message wasn't long. Just two words.
"Help me."
Her blood turned to ice.
Her hands shook as she typed back, her thumbs moving too fast.
"Adam? Where are you?"
No reply.
Her throat tightened painfully. She called him.
It rang once.
Twice.
Straight to voicemail.
Aaliya felt the world tilt beneath her feet. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to think. This wasn't over. Not yet.
Faris knew something. He wasn't her friend, and he definitely wasn't a hero — but he wasn't heartless, either. He could've thrown her out of that club. He could've ignored her. But he didn't.
And that meant he was her only lead.
Whether he liked it or not, she wasn't done with him.
Somewhere across the city, Faris sat in the back seat of his car, watching the streets blur past. The neon lights painted streaks of color across the tinted windows — blue, red, gold — all blending together.
His phone buzzed once, but he didn't look at it.
He stared out the window, his expression unreadable.
Aaliya's face lingered in his mind longer than he wanted it to. There was something in her eyes that bothered him — something too stubborn, too familiar.
He sighed, leaning back against the leather seat. He wasn't heartless. Not completely. But he knew better than to get involved.
People like her didn't belong in his world.
And if she didn't walk away soon, this city would swallow her whole.
Just like it did to him.
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38Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPh8QUpSIbY
The air between them was thick with something unspoken. Aaliya wasn't sure if it was tension, distrust, or just the weight of what she'd agreed to. But as she stood in the dim alley, facing Faris Al-Fayez, she knew one thing for sure—she had just crossed a line she couldn't go back from.
Faris leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching her with the same unreadable expression. His presence was unnerving, not because he was loud or aggressive, but because he wasn't. He was too calm, too controlled. Like he was sizing her up, deciding if she was worth the trouble.
"You really don't get it, do you?" he said after a long silence. His voice wasn't mocking, but it wasn't exactly kind either.
"Get what?" Aaliya asked, standing her ground.
Faris let out a slow breath, tilting his head slightly. "You're in way over your head."
Aaliya knew that. She had known it from the moment she set foot in that club, from the moment she saw the shadows lurking behind Faris's smirk. But fear wasn't an option anymore. Adam was still missing.
"I don't care," she said, lifting her chin. "You said you'd help me. So help me."
Faris watched her for another long moment before shaking his head. "You're lucky I don't believe in letting people walk into their own graves." He pushed off the wall and took a step closer. "Fine. You want to know where your friend is? You follow my rules. No exceptions."
Aaliya swallowed, but nodded.
"One," he started, holding up a finger. "You don't ask questions unless I say you can."
Her lips parted in protest, but he gave her a look that silenced her before she could even speak.
"Two," he continued, "You do not—under any circumstances—wander off. You stay where I tell you to stay. You move when I tell you to move."
Aaliya clenched her fists, biting her tongue.
"Three," Faris stepped even closer, lowering his voice. "If you think for a second that this is some game, walk away now. Because if you make one mistake—one wrong move—there won't be a second chance."
The way he said it sent a chill down her spine.
She could see it now, more clearly than before. Faris wasn't just playing a part in this world—he belonged to it. The way he spoke, the way he carried himself—it wasn't just confidence. It was certainty. He knew how dangerous things could get because he had seen it before.
"Still want in?" he asked, watching her reaction.
Aaliya didn't hesitate. "Yes."
Faris held her gaze for a beat longer, then sighed. "Then let's go."
Faris led her to a sleek black car parked a block away. He unlocked it with a tap of his key fob and slid into the driver's seat without another word. Aaliya hesitated for a second before climbing in beside him.
The second the door shut, she realized how quiet it was inside. The world outside seemed to disappear, leaving only the soft hum of the car's engine and the faint scent of leather.
She had a million questions. She wanted to ask where they were going, what he knew, how he had gotten involved in all of this in the first place. But she held them back. His rules.
Instead, she watched him as he drove.
Faris was completely focused on the road, his hands steady on the wheel. He didn't fidget. He didn't glance at his phone. He didn't even seem to notice her watching.
After a few minutes of silence, she couldn't take it anymore.
"Where are we going?" she asked quietly.
Faris didn't answer immediately. He just kept driving, the streetlights casting fleeting shadows across his face.
Finally, he said, "To find someone who might know where Adam is."
Aaliya exhaled, relief and nerves mixing inside her. "And who is that?"
Faris's grip on the wheel tightened slightly. "A man who deals in information. But he doesn't talk for free."
Her stomach twisted. "And how do we get him to talk?"
Faris smirked, but it wasn't his usual playful kind. It was colder. Sharper.
"We give him something worth more than his silence."
Aaliya didn't like the sound of that.
She clutched the fabric of her coat, trying to steady herself. "And what exactly does that mean?"
Faris glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "You'll see soon enough."
Aaliya had a sinking feeling that whatever "soon enough" meant, she wasn't going to like it.
Twenty minutes later, they pulled into a quiet street on the outskirts of the city. The buildings here weren't flashy or well-lit like the ones in the main districts. They were older, worn-down, the kind of places people didn't ask too many questions about.
Faris parked near a dimly lit shop with a sign written in faded Hangul. The windows were tinted so dark that Aaliya couldn't see inside.
"Stay close," he instructed before stepping out.
Aaliya followed, her heartbeat loud in her ears. She wasn't sure if it was from fear or anticipation.
Faris knocked on the door, a sharp, deliberate pattern. Three knocks, a pause, then two more.
A few seconds passed before the door creaked open. A man peered out, his face partially hidden by shadows.
Faris didn't wait for an invitation—he stepped inside, motioning for Aaliya to follow.
The room they entered was dimly lit, cluttered with papers, cigarette smoke hanging in the air. The man who had answered the door—middle-aged, thin, with a sharp, calculating gaze—leaned against a desk.
"Didn't think I'd be seeing you again so soon, Al-Fayez," the man said, smirking. His voice was casual, but there was something behind it—something cautious.
Faris didn't return the smirk. "Cut the small talk, Kwan. We need information."
Kwan's gaze flickered to Aaliya. "And who's this?"
"Not your concern," Faris said smoothly.
Kwan chuckled. "If you say so. What do you want to know?"
"Adam Ameen," Faris said, his voice even. "Where is he?"
Kwan rubbed his chin, pretending to think. "That depends."
"On what?" Aaliya asked before she could stop herself.
Kwan's eyes flicked to her again, and this time, his smile widened. "On what you're willing to trade for it."
Faris didn't hesitate. "Name your price."
Aaliya glanced at him, startled. Whatever this was, Faris already knew what it would cost.
Kwan leaned forward, his eyes gleaming. "I want a favor, Al-Fayez."
Faris's jaw tightened, but he nodded once. "Done."
Aaliya wasn't sure what unsettled her more—Kwan's satisfied expression or the fact that Faris had agreed so quickly.
One thing was clear.
This was just the beginning.
Aaliya's heart thudded loudly in her chest. The room felt colder now, the weight of Kwan's smirk hanging in the air.
Faris didn't flinch, though. He stayed exactly where he was, his expression unreadable. Aaliya didn't know what she expected from him — maybe a protest, a negotiation — but he gave neither. He only stared at Kwan, waiting.
"Smart boy," Kwan muttered, his voice low and amused. He leaned back against the desk, one arm draped lazily over the edge. "You always knew when to keep your mouth shut. That's probably why you're still alive."
Faris's jaw tightened, but his voice remained level. "What do you want?"
Kwan tapped his fingers against the desk, pretending to think it over. "There's a man," he began slowly, drawing the words out like he was savoring the moment. "Park Sung-hoon. He owes me something. Something important."
Faris didn't react, but Aaliya noticed the flicker in his eyes. He knew the name.
"You want me to collect," Faris said flatly. It wasn't a question.
Kwan grinned. "Not quite. I want you to take something from him — something he won't give up willingly. A ledger. He keeps it in his office downtown. Get it for me, and I'll tell you where Adam is."
Faris didn't answer right away. Aaliya could see his mind working, calculating. She wanted to ask what the ledger was, why it mattered so much, but she bit her tongue.
"And if I refuse?" Faris finally asked, though his voice held no real curiosity. He already knew the answer.
Kwan shrugged, his grin never faltering. "Then I guess the boy stays missing. Maybe forever."
Aaliya's stomach twisted.
Faris stared at Kwan for a second longer, then gave a slow, reluctant nod. "Fine. I'll get it."
Kwan's smirk widened. "That's what I like about you, Al-Fayez. Always so cooperative."
Faris didn't dignify that with a response. He turned on his heel and walked toward the door. Aaliya hurried to follow, but Kwan's voice stopped her in her tracks.
"Careful, sweetheart," he drawled. "Stick too close to him, and you might not like what you find."
Aaliya froze, her throat tightening. Faris didn't stop walking. He didn't even glance back.
She forced herself to move, catching up with him outside. The cold night air hit her like a slap, but it felt better than the stifling tension inside the room.
Faris didn't speak until they reached the car.
"Get in," he said quietly.
She obeyed without question, her mind racing.
The drive back was silent, but it wasn't the same comfortable quiet as before. This time, the silence felt heavy, like neither of them wanted to be the first to break it.
Aaliya stared out the window, the neon signs blurring past in streaks of red and blue. She couldn't stop thinking about Kwan's parting words.
"Stick too close to him, and you might not like what you find."
What did that even mean?
Her eyes drifted to Faris. His hands were tight on the wheel, knuckles white. His jaw was clenched, his eyes fixed on the road. He looked different now — harder, colder.
"Who's Park Sung-hoon?" she asked, her voice quieter than she intended.
Faris didn't answer right away. His grip on the steering wheel tightened.
"Someone I should've killed a long time ago," he said finally, voice low.
Aaliya stared at him. He didn't sound angry. He sounded... tired.
"Why does Kwan want his ledger?"
Faris's lips twitched into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Kwan doesn't care about the ledger. He cares about making sure I owe him."
Aaliya blinked. "You mean this isn't about Adam?"
Faris laughed softly, but it wasn't amused. "It was never about Adam."
The words hit her harder than she expected.
"Then why are you helping me?" she asked, unable to stop the question from spilling out.
For the first time, Faris looked at her — really looked at her. His dark eyes held something she couldn't quite place.
"Because I know what it feels like to lose someone," he said quietly.
Aaliya swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling in her chest.
She wanted to ask more — about him, about his past, about the things he wasn't saying. But before she could, Faris spoke again.
"We're going tomorrow night," he said, his voice returning to its usual detached calm. "Be ready."
Aaliya nodded, even though the knot in her stomach told her she wasn't ready for any of this.
The next evening came faster than Aaliya wanted it to.
Faris picked her up right after Maghrib prayer. He didn't ask if she was sure, and she didn't tell him she was scared.
They drove in silence again, but this time, it wasn't uncomfortable. It was almost... steadying. Like they both knew what they were walking into, and neither of them wanted to say it out loud.
The building was tall and sleek, with mirrored windows that reflected the city lights. It looked like any other office building, but Aaliya knew better now. Nothing about this world was ever what it seemed.
Faris parked a block away, turning off the engine.
"You stay here," he said firmly.
"No," Aaliya said, surprising even herself. "I'm coming with you."
Faris stared at her for a second, then shook his head. "You're going to get yourself killed."
"I don't care," she said, her voice steady. "Adam's my friend. I'm not staying behind."
For a moment, she thought he might argue. But then, to her surprise, he smirked — that same half-smirk he always gave her when he was amused and irritated at the same time.
"You're a stubborn one, aren't you?" he muttered.
Aaliya crossed her arms. "Yeah. I am."
Faris let out a short laugh. "Fine. Let's go."
He opened the car door, and Aaliya followed without hesitation.
As they approached the building, Faris's expression shifted. His smirk disappeared, replaced by the cold, unreadable mask he always wore when things got serious.
"Stay close," he murmured.
Aaliya nodded, her heart hammering in her chest.
They stepped into the shadows together — and for the first time, Aaliya wondered if they'd both make it back out.
TO BE CONTINUED
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