Chapter 7 - The Fury of the Sheikh
The thunderstorm over the Capitol City marina raged with apocalyptic fury. Lightning ripped through the dark clouds, illuminating the churning ocean waves crashing against the concrete docks.
Inside a secluded, three-story glass villa overlooking the water, Lord Rashid and Sora were pouring crystal glasses of aged scotch.
"It was so easy," Sora laughed, swirling the amber liquid in her glass. "A simple cloning of her laptop’s IP address while she was at her pathetic clinic, a servant bribed to drop the necklace into her bag, and Tariq’s precious little angel becomes a disgraced criminal!"
"By midnight, the council will vote to strip Tariq of his CEO position," Rashid gloated, pulling a leather cigar case from his pocket. "He was so blinded by his pathetic feelings for that girl that he turned on her the second the evidence appeared. He is weak!"
BOOM!
The reinforced glass doors of the seaside villa didn't open—they exploded inward into ten thousand shining shards.
A flashbang grenade bounced across the marble floor, detonating with a blinding white light and a deafening roar.
Before Rashid or his five armed bodyguards could even draw their weapons, a black-clad tactical unit swept into the room like shadows.
Suppressor shots popped softly through the thunder: Phut! Phut! Phut!
The bodyguards collapsed onto the marble floor one by one, their weapons clattering uselessly against the tiles.
Through the settling smoke and rain, a solitary figure walked into the room.
Tariq Al-Mansoor wore no coat, no tie. His white dress shirt was soaked with rainwater, clinging to his broad chest. In his right hand, he held a black tactical pistol, his eyes burning with an ancient, terrifying fury that made Rashid drop his scotch glass in absolute horror.
"T-Tariq!" Rashid shrieked, backing into the glass wall, his hands raised in panic. "What is the meaning of this? This is illegal! I am a council member!"
Tariq didn't speak. He stepped forward, grabbed Rashid by his throat with his left hand, and lifted the sixty-year-old man off his feet, slamming him back against the floor-to-ceiling glass window overlooking the crashing ocean below.
The glass cracked under the impact.
"Did you really think," Tariq growled, his voice vibrating with pure, unadulterated venom, "that I wouldn't know my own wife's heart?"
Rashid choked, his feet kicking wildly in the air, his face turning dark red. "She... she stole... the files—"
"I planted those files on her laptop myself three weeks ago, you old fool," Tariq sneered softly, leaning in until his dark eyes consumed Rashid's terrified vision. "They were embedded with a tracker virus. The moment your daughter cloned her drive, my intelligence team recorded every keystroke, every IP address, and every bribe paid to my household butler."
Sora let out a blood-curdling shriek from the corner, sinking to her knees in panic.
"You tried to ruin the only pure thing that has ever entered my life," Tariq whispered, his grip tightening on Rashid's throat until the glass behind him creaked loudly under the pressure. "You made her weep. You made her think I didn't trust her."
"P-please!" Rashid whimpered, tears of sheer terror spilling down his wrinkled face. "Don't kill me! I'll surrender my board seat! I'll leave the country!"
Tariq stared at him for three long, agonizing seconds. The lethal dark rage in his chest demanded blood. But then, in his mind's eye, he saw Chloe’s soft, beautiful face—her brown eyes filled with compassion, her hands that spent every day healing sick children.
He knew that if he murdered this man in cold blood, he would become the monster the world claimed he was. And he could never hold Chloe with blood on his hands again.
Tariq shoved Rashid away. The old man collapsed onto the glass shards, coughing violently, dragging air back into his lungs.
Malik stepped into the room, flanked by two federal prosecutors and four city police detectives carrying arrest warrants.
"Lord Rashid, Sora Rashid," the lead prosecutor announced calmly, presenting a thick digital tablet. "You are under arrest for high-level corporate fraud, attempted bribery, framing an innocent citizen, and treason against the Al-Mansoor Global Trust."
As the federal agents slapped steel handcuffs onto Rashid and Sora, dragging them away screaming into the stormy night, Tariq stood by the shattered window, wiping the rain from his face.
He turned to Malik, his dark eyes filled with a desperate, frantic urgency.
"Where is she?" Tariq demanded.
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"She’s still at the estate, Boss," Malik replied softly. "In the safe suite."
"Get the car," Tariq commanded, running toward the entrance. "I have to go to her."
