Aaliya couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this tired. It wasn't the kind of exhaustion that sleep could fix — it settled in her chest, heavy and unmoving, like a weight she couldn't shake off.
Her tea had gone cold on the table, untouched. She stared at the phone screen again, the same notification staring back at her. No messages. No calls. Nothing.
Her fingers hovered over Adam's contact. She'd already called him five times. Each one went straight to voicemail.
"Hey, this is Adam. Can't pick up right now — leave a message or... don't. I'll find you anyway."
The voice that once made her smile now felt like a punch to the stomach.
Aaliya pressed the phone to her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut. Where was he?
She tried to think rationally. Maybe his phone died. Maybe he got caught up helping someone. He was always doing that — running off without warning to help a friend or a stranger like it was his life's purpose.
But he wouldn't leave her waiting. Not without a word.
Her mind wandered back to the alley, to the sound of that man's voice — Faris. The way he spoke, calm and cold, like he wasn't worried about consequences. Like he didn't believe consequences applied to him.
Her stomach tightened. She didn't want to think about him anymore. He wasn't important. Adam was.
Aaliya forced herself to stand. She couldn't sit around waiting for a miracle.
The city was waking up now, sunlight spilling between the high buildings and casting long shadows on the streets. The early morning hum of life was louder than usual — vendors setting up stalls, shopkeepers unlocking their doors, taxis weaving through narrow roads.
It all felt too normal, too oblivious to the fact that her world felt like it was tilting off balance.
She knew where to start.
Adam had his usual haunts — places he went when he didn't want to be found. Aaliya knew them all.
She moved quickly, weaving through the streets. First, the masjid near his apartment. The imam gave her a sympathetic shake of the head.
"He wasn't here this morning, beta."
Her heart sank. She murmured a polite thanks and left, her steps faster now.
The next stop: the bookstore tucked between a laundromat and a bakery. Adam liked to hang out there, talking to the elderly owner, Mr. Hamid, about everything from poetry to football.
"He didn't come by yesterday either," the old man said with a frown. "That's not like him."
Aaliya nodded numbly, her throat tight. She didn't stay to chat.
By the time she reached the last spot — the rooftop garden they used to sneak into as kids — her legs felt like lead. She climbed the familiar rusted ladder, her breath coming out in shallow bursts.
The rooftop was empty.
Aaliya blinked hard against the sting in her eyes.
"Adam," she whispered, voice trembling. The wind answered her, soft and indifferent.
Her mind started spiraling into the worst places. What if he wasn't avoiding her? What if he couldn't reach her? What if —
No. She couldn't think like that.
But the alley came back to her again, unbidden. The look in Faris's eyes, the way the man he confronted had looked so small in front of him.
She shook her head, pushing the thought away. It didn't matter. Adam wasn't involved with someone like that. He wouldn't be.
Would he?
Her stomach twisted painfully.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, jolting her back to reality.
She nearly dropped it in her rush to pull it out. For one dizzying second, she thought it was Zayd — but it wasn't.
It was an unknown number.
Her heart pounded.
She hesitated, her thumb hovering over the screen. Every instinct screamed not to answer. But she swallowed the fear and pressed the call button.
"Hello?" Her voice came out smaller than she wanted.
There was a pause. Then a voice — low, smooth, and unfamiliar.
"Looking for someone?"
Aaliya froze.
Her throat went dry. "Who is this?"
The voice didn't answer right away. There was a pause that stretched too long, winding her nerves tighter.
"Adam's lucky," the voice said finally, slow and deliberate. "You're not."
The line went dead.
Aaliya stared at the phone, her hands shaking.
Her lungs felt too tight, her chest too heavy. She couldn't move. Couldn't think.
Adam wasn't just missing. He was in trouble.
And now... so was she.
Aaliya's heart slammed against her ribs as she stared at the dead phone screen. Her throat felt tight, like someone was squeezing it from the inside.
The voice still echoed in her ears — low, smooth, and wrong.
"Adam's lucky. You're not."
Her hand shook as she redialed the unknown number.
It didn't ring. It didn't even go to voicemail. Just an abrupt, sterile, "This number is unavailable."
Her mind raced, piecing together fragments that didn't quite fit. Adam wasn't the type to get involved in anything dangerous — he was the gentle one, the one who calmed her down when life got too loud. He wasn't reckless. He wasn't like...
Her mind flashed back to the alley again — to Faris. To the way he looked at people, like they were beneath him. Like hurting them wouldn't cost him a second of sleep.
No. Adam wouldn't be mixed up with someone like that. He couldn't be.
But the voice on the phone said otherwise.
Aaliya stuffed her phone into her bag, her hands clammy. She needed answers. She needed someone who could help, someone who knew the city's dark corners better than she did.
Only one name came to mind.
She didn't want to think about it, but desperation shoved her forward.
She needed to find Faris Al-Fayez.
Aaliya stood frozen outside the club's entrance, gripping the small piece of paper in her hand. The inked address stared back at her, confirming what she already knew but struggled to accept. This was it. The place where she'd find Faris.
She tilted her head back, letting her gaze trace over the neon-lit sign flashing above the doors—a name she never thought she'd read in real life, let alone stand beneath. The air smelled thick with cigarette smoke, perfume, and something else—something reckless and wild.
Aaliya swallowed, suddenly aware of the sharp contrast between herself and the people slipping inside. Women in glimmering dresses, men laughing loudly, the rhythmic pulse of music seeping through the walls, shaking her bones. This was a world far from her own. A place she had never entered before.
Her fingers trembled as she adjusted her hijab, tugging it closer around her face. Doubt clawed at her resolve. What if she wasn't ready for this? What if stepping inside meant losing a piece of herself?
But Faris was in there.
And she had no choice but to go after him.
With one last breath, she tightened her grip on the paper, squared her shoulders, and stepped forward—crossing a line she never imagined she would.
She hesitated near the entrance, her hands gripping the strap of her bag as she scanned the crowd. Men and women swayed to the music. The tables were lined with half-empty glasses, the scent of smoke curling in the air.
Aaliya's stomach twisted. This was chaos—so far from the quiet, familiar world she belonged to. She felt out of place.
But she didn't have the luxury of turning back. Not when Faris was somewhere in here.
She moved cautiously through the crowd, keeping her head low but her eyes sharp, searching. The flashing lights made it difficult to focus, the constant movement dizzying. She pushed past a group of people near the bar, her heart hammering.
Where is he?
Her gaze darted across the room—over the leather booths, the neon-lit bar, the raised platform where a few people were dancing. And then, finally—
Faris.
He sat in a dim corner, his elbow resting on the table, fingers loosely gripping a glass. His usual sharp demeanor seemed dulled, his expression unreadable beneath the low lighting.
Aaliya exhaled shakily.
She had found him.
Now, she just had to face him.
Aaliya swallowed hard. Her legs felt rooted to the floor, but she forced herself to move.
One step. Then another.
Halfway there, one of the men looked up and spotted her. He leaned toward Faris, murmuring something low.
Faris didn't look up right away. He took his time, sipping from the glass he was holding before slowly lifting his head.
His eyes met hers.
Aaliya stopped breathing.
For a second — just a second — something flickered in his expression. Recognition? Amusement? She couldn't tell.
Then it was gone. His face settled into that same unreadable mask.
He tilted his head slightly, his voice low and smooth when he spoke.
"You lost, sweetheart?"
Her stomach twisted. She hated how calm he sounded, like this was all a joke to him.
"I need to talk to you," she said, surprised at how steady her voice came out.
Faris raised a brow, putting the glass over the table leaning back in his chair like he had all the time in the world, he lit a cigarette. "You don't look like someone who should be talking to me."
She swallowed hard, forcing down the fear rising in her throat. "It's about Adam."
Faris didn't look at her right away. He took a slow drag from his cigarettes, exhaling smoke in a lazy stream before finally glancing at her. His eyes were sharp despite the slight glaze of alcohol behind them.
"Adam, huh?" He rolled the name around like it was some vague memory. "Should I know him?"
Aaliya's brows furrowed. "Don't play dumb. You do."
"Cute." Faris let out a dry chuckle, tapping ash off the end of his cigarette. "But let's get one thing straight, sweetheart—I don't owe you answers."
Aaliya didn't waver. "I just need to know if he's in trouble."
Faris smirked, leaning back against the couch like this was just another night, just another pointless conversation he was humoring. "Oh, he's in trouble, alright. The kind you don't crawl out of."
Her stomach twisted. "What does that mean?"
He shrugged, dragging a hand through his hair, ruffling it carelessly. "Dunno. Just a feeling." His words were lazy, but there was a sharp glint in his eyes. "Guys like him? They piss off the wrong people. That's how it always goes."
She studied him, trying to read between the lines. "You don't actually know anything, do you?"
Faris laughed, a little too loud. "Now you're catching on."
Aaliya clenched her fists. "So, you're just wasting my time?"
"No, sweetheart." He took another slow drag, letting the smoke curl between them. "I'm making sure you don't waste mine."
Her patience snapped. "If you don't know anything, just say it!"
"And where's the fun in that?" His grin widened, teeth flashing under the dim alley light. "But hey, if you're so desperate—why don't you ask the guys who were looking for him last week?"
Aaliya's breath caught. "Who?"
Faris shrugged again, like it was all just another meaningless detail. Getting up he moved towards her. "Didn't catch their names. Didn't need to. Guys like that? They don't ask questions. They make problems disappear."
Her blood ran cold. "You're lying."
He tilted his head, studying her for a long moment. Taking two steps back he leaned against the wall.
"Maybe." He flashed her a smirk before stepping past her, his voice dropping to a murmur. "Or maybe your friend's already gone, and you're just too late to realize it."
Faris exhaled another stream of smoke, watching her through the haze, his expression unreadable. His grip on the cigarette was loose, fingers lazy, but his eyes—half-lidded, slightly unfocused from the alcohol—were sharp.
"Alright, let's switch it up, sweetheart." He flicked the cigarette with his thumb, sending ash scattering onto the pavement. "Who's Adam to you?"
Aaliya straightened. "He's a friend."
Faris let out a low hum, his smirk stretching lazily across his face. "Just a friend?"
She stiffened at the way he said it, his tone almost teasing.
"You sure about that?" He dragged his gaze over her, the weight of it enough to make her jaw tighten. "Because, no offense, but you don't look like someone who'd crash a place like this for 'just a friend.'"
Aaliya's throat went dry. "I'm not here for anything else."
Faris chuckled, shaking his head. "Right. And I drink for the taste."
Her frustration flared. "Are you going to help me or not?"
He studied her for a second, something unreadable flickering behind his smirk. Then, with a sigh, he pushed himself off the wall, rolling his shoulders like he was already done with the conversation.
"Look, sweetheart, take my advice and leave." His voice was still teasing, but there was something different about it now, something just a little more serious. "This place? Not for you."
Aaliya bristled. "You don't even know me."
Faris let out a soft laugh. "Yeah, but I know the type that walks in here and doesn't walk out the same." He tilted his head, smirk still in place but not quite as sharp as before. "You don't belong in a place like this, and trust me, that's a good thing."
She hesitated.
He took one last drag from his cigarette, then flicked it aside, watching the ember die on the pavement.
"Go home, sweetheart. Before someone decides your 'just a friend' is worth making you disappear too."
Aaliya felt her knees weaken, but she didn't let herself fall.
She wasn't giving up.
Adam was in trouble. And no matter what Faris or anyone else said — she wasn't going to stop until she found him.18Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPQG1Z3VKl9
___________________________________________
The streets felt colder than it should. The sun was still shining, but the shadows clung to the brick walls like they didn't want to let go. Aaliya stood there, her heart pounding so loud it felt like it echoed.
Her head swam with everything he'd said.
"Your friend's already gone, and you're just too late to realize it."
The words kept circling in her mind, looping over and over, clashing with everything she thought she knew.
Adam wasn't reckless. He was the good one — the one who always looked out for her, who always showed up when no one else did. He wasn't like Faris.
Aaliya exhaled shakily, her throat tightening. She couldn't let this stop her. If Adam was in trouble, then walking away wasn't an option.
Her phone buzzed in her bag, jolting her back to reality. She scrambled for it, hoping — praying — that it was Adam.
Unknown Number.
Her stomach twisted. For a second, she hesitated. Then she swiped to answer.
She didn't get a chance to speak.
"You should've listened to Al-Fayez."
The voice was the same one from before — low, smooth, and dangerous. Her blood ran cold.
"You're sticking your nose where it doesn't belong," the voice continued. "Walk away, little girl. Or we'll make sure you regret it."
The call ended with a click.
Aaliya stared at the phone, her fingers trembling.
Whoever they were — they weren't bluffing.
The bus ride home felt longer than usual. The city moved around her, bustling and loud, but it all felt distant, like she was watching it from behind glass.
Her mind wouldn't stop spinning.
Adam was missing. Someone dangerous was involved. And Faris Al-Fayez — with his cold eyes and cruel smile — knew more than he was letting on.
She didn't know which part scared her more.
When she finally reached home, the apartment felt too quiet. She locked the door behind her, the sound echoing through the empty space.
Her mom wouldn't be home until later. It was just her and her thoughts now — and they weren't comforting company.
Aaliya sank onto the couch, her head in her hands.
What was she supposed to do?
She couldn't go to the police — not when she didn't have anything solid. "My friend's missing and a scary guy said he owes money" wasn't going to get anyone moving.
And Faris? He made it clear he wasn't interested in helping.
She was alone in this.
Her eyes burned, but she blinked hard. Crying wouldn't fix anything.
She had to think.
Adam's friends. Maybe one of them knew something. He didn't talk about his life much — not the personal parts — but he wasn't a loner either. If he was in trouble, someone had to know.
She grabbed her phone and started scrolling through her contacts. She wasn't even sure who she was looking for — anyone who might have seen him recently.
Her thumb hovered over one name: Omar.
Adam's old friend from school. They hadn't talked in a while, but maybe...
She hit call.
It rang twice before a voice picked up. "Hello?"
Aaliya sat up straighter. "Omar? It's Aaliya."
There was a pause. "...Hey. Been a while."
"Yeah, I know. Sorry to call out of nowhere." She swallowed. "Have you seen Adam? He's been gone for a couple of days. I'm worried."
The line went quiet for a second too long.
"Omar?"
"...Look, Aaliya, I don't know what's going on with him," Omar said finally. "But the last time I saw him, he was with some guys I didn't recognize. They didn't look like friends. More like trouble."
Her stomach tightened. "What kind of trouble?"
Omar sighed. "I don't know. But they were bad news."
Aaliya froze.
"Did you hear anything? Anything they said?" she asked, her voice quick and breathless.
"Something about a debt. And Al-Fayez ."
Aaliya's heart stopped.
Faris's name. Again.
Omar sighed. "Listen, Aaliya... whatever Adam's caught up in? You shouldn't get involved. These people... they're dangerous."
"I don't care," she said before she could stop herself. "He's my friend."
Omar sighed again, quieter this time. "Just... be careful, okay? I gotta go."
The call ended.
Aaliya sat there, the phone still in her hand. Her chest felt tight.
Adam was connected to Faris somehow. More than she realized.
She didn't know what scared her more — the thought of Adam being tangled up with people like that... or the fact that the only person who seemed to know what was really happening was Faris Al-Fayez.
And she was going to have to face him again.
Whether he liked it or not.
TO BE CONTINUED-
18Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHFnGTvOfkT
