11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrrPTVG6SZK
The city looked different at night.
Istanbul's streets, usually buzzing with life, now felt emptier, colder. The neon lights reflected on the wet pavement, casting flickers of color that felt more haunting than lively. Aaliya walked with her hands stuffed into her sleeves, her breath fogging in the cold air.
Her heart hadn't stopped racing since Omar's call.
Adam. Faris. It was all tangled together now, and she had no choice but to keep going — even if she didn't know where this path was leading her.
Her feet carried her without thinking, retracing the last place she'd seen Zayd: the café where they usually met after Taraweeh prayers. It was quieter than usual tonight. The sign in the window flickered weakly, one bulb already dead.
She stepped inside.
The air smelled like stale coffee and old wood. The barista barely looked up from her phone. Aaliya scanned the room anyway, hoping, just hoping, she'd see him sitting in their usual booth by the window, grinning like he'd just been running late this whole time.
But the booth was empty.
Of course it was.
Her stomach knotted. She didn't know what she was expecting.
Aaliya sank into the seat anyway, wrapping her arms around herself. Her mind wouldn't stop spinning. She thought about Faris again — the way he looked at her like she was wasting his time, the way his voice dripped with arrogance.
Faris wasn't just some rich guy who played by his own rules. He was something more. Something dangerous.
The question was — was he dangerous for the right reasons or the wrong ones?
A loud clang from the back of the café snapped her out of her thoughts.
Her head shot up, her heart jumping to her throat.
The barista glanced up too, frowning toward the back door, but didn't say anything.
Aaliya stood slowly. Her pulse thudded in her ears. She didn't know why, but her gut told her something was off. The door to the alley behind the café was slightly ajar, swaying just a little with the breeze.
It was stupid — she knew it was stupid — but her legs moved anyway.
She pushed the door open.
The alley was dark, barely lit by a streetlamp on the far end. Garbage bags lined the walls, and the smell made her nose wrinkle.
And then she saw him.
Not Zayd.
Faris.
He was leaning against the wall near a black car, half-shrouded in shadow. His head was tilted down, a cigarette between his fingers. The ember glowed faintly as he took a slow drag.
He didn't look surprised to see her.
"Are you following me now, Aaliya?" His voice was low, bored, like he couldn't be bothered.
Her stomach twisted. How did he even know her name?
"I... I wasn't following you." Her voice came out shakier than she wanted. "I was looking for Adam."
Faris let out a dry chuckle, smoke curling from his lips. "You're still on that?" He shook his head like he felt sorry for her. "You really don't get it, do you?"
Her jaw tightened. "Then explain it to me."
Faris stared at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. The silence stretched between them, heavy and tense.
"I already told you," he said finally. "Your friend's in over his head. He owes the wrong people, and they don't forgive debts."
Her throat tightened. "Then help me find him."
Faris let out a short laugh, but there was no humor in it.
"Why would I do that?" he asked, tilting his head. His voice lowered, sharp and cutting. "You think I'm a hero? You think I care what happens to your little friend? People like him — they get what's coming to them."
Aaliya's hands curled into fists. "He's not like that."
Faris stepped away from the wall slowly, his eyes on her like he was sizing her up.
"You think you know him," he said softly, almost mockingly. "You don't. Not really."
Something about the way he said it made her chest tighten.
"What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded.
For a second, she swore something flickered in his eyes — something sharp and bitter — but it was gone before she could place it.
"It means," he said, voice low and steady, "you should stop looking for him. Before it's too late."
The words hung in the air between them.
Aaliya's throat burned. Her heart hammered against her ribs.
She didn't know what she expected from him — maybe a glimmer of empathy, some sign that he wasn't as heartless as he pretended to be. But there was nothing in his face now except cold indifference.
Her voice wavered, but she forced the words out anyway.
"I'm not giving up on him."
For a moment, Faris didn't say anything. He just stared at her. Then, slowly, that same crooked, cynical smirk tugged at his lips.
"Suit yourself," he murmured.
He flicked his cigarette to the ground, the ember dying as it hit the pavement. Without another word, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the shadows.
Aaliya stood there, the cold biting at her skin, her heart pounding in her ears.
She wasn't sure who scared her more — the people who took Adam...
Or Faris Al-Fayez.
Aaliya didn't move for a long moment.
The alley felt colder now, like the warmth of the café had been worlds away instead of a few feet behind her. Her mind replayed Faris's words over and over, his voice low and indifferent.
"You should stop looking for him. Before it's too late."
The warning sat heavy in her chest, but it only made her resolve burn hotter.
Faris wasn't a dead end — he was a clue. He knew something. He wasn't heartless, no matter how hard he tried to sound like it. There was something buried under that smirk and smoke, something he wasn't saying.
She wasn't leaving without answers.
Aaliya turned back toward the café, her heart still thudding in her ears. Adam was out there somewhere. And Faris Al-Fayez knew why.
The bus ride home was a blur.
The city moved past her, neon signs and streetlights blending together as she stared blankly out the window. Her reflection stared back — tired eyes, hijab a little askew, cheeks pale. She barely recognized herself.
Her mind wouldn't stop spinning.
Why did Faris seem so unbothered by all of this? Did he really not care what happened to Adam, or was there more to it? He didn't strike her as the type to get involved for no reason — yet he'd intervened at the market. He hadn't needed to.
So why did he?
The bus jolted to a stop, snapping her from her thoughts. She blinked, realizing they'd reached her street. She climbed off, the air biting at her skin again.
The sky had darkened even more, and the streets were quieter than before. Ramadan nights were usually filled with warmth — families walking home from the masjid, kids laughing, the smell of food lingering in the air.
But tonight felt hollow.
Her building loomed ahead, the dim light above the entrance flickering. She climbed the stairs slowly, each step feeling heavier than the last.
When she reached her door, her heart sank.
It was slightly open.
She knew she'd locked it.
Her breath caught in her throat. She swallowed hard and pushed the door open the rest of the way, her pulse roaring in her ears.
The apartment was dark. Too dark.
Her hand trembled as she reached for the light switch. The moment the room lit up, her stomach twisted.
The living room was a mess. Her books were scattered across the floor, the small glass vase by the window shattered, water soaking into the carpet. The cushions were tossed haphazardly, and the drawer under the TV was pulled open, papers spilling out.
Someone had been here.
Her chest tightened, panic rising in her throat.
She forced herself to move, stepping carefully over the broken glass. Her room was the same — drawers yanked open, her bedside table knocked over.
She didn't realize she was shaking until she reached for her phone with unsteady hands.
Adam's number. Voicemail.
Her eyes burned.
Aaliya wasn't the type to cry easily. She hadn't even cried when she left home for university. But this felt different. The weight of it all pressed down on her, making her ribs ache.
The fear. The anger. The helplessness.
She sank onto the edge of her bed, her head in her hands. What was she supposed to do now? Go to the police? They barely listened when she reported Adam missing. They'd told her to "give it time" and asked if he might've run away.
She didn't believe that for a second.
Adam wouldn't run.
He wouldn't leave her like this.
Her phone buzzed in her hand, making her jump. She scrambled to check the screen — an unknown number.
For a second, she almost ignored it. Then something told her not to.
She answered.
There was silence on the other end.
"Hello?" Her voice came out shakier than she wanted.
The silence stretched. Then, finally, a voice — low, rough, and unfamiliar.
"He's alive. For now."
Her heart stopped.
"Who is this?" she breathed.
The line went dead.
Her hand shook so hard she nearly dropped the phone.
She stared at it for a moment, her pulse pounding, before a second message came through. This time, it wasn't a call. It was a text.
Stop looking. Or he won't stay that way.
Her stomach twisted painfully. Her throat burned.
Her first instinct was to call the number back — but she knew better. Whoever it was wouldn't pick up.
She didn't realize she was crying until the tears hit her hands.
She didn't sleep that night.
Her mind wouldn't let her. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Zayd's face. She saw Faris's smirk. She heard the voice on the phone.
By dawn, her heart felt hollow and raw. But the fear didn't numb her resolve. It sharpened it.
If they thought she'd back down now, they didn't know her at all.
Adam was more than her best friend — he was her family. She wasn't giving up on him.
Even if it meant going back to Faris Al-Fayez.
Because whether he liked it or not, she wasn't done with him yet.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyn8HRx9aKb
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The morning light felt wrong.
It wasn't soft or comforting like it should've been after a long night. It poured in through the window harshly, making the room look even more broken than before. Aaliya sat on the edge of her bed, staring at her phone.
The screen was black, but she didn't dare turn it off. What if they called again? What if Adam tried to reach her?
Her mind wouldn't stop spinning. The voice on the phone echoed in her head.
"He's alive. For now."
It wasn't a ransom call. They didn't ask for money. They didn't ask for anything. They only wanted her to stop looking.
But why?
What was she not supposed to find?
Her chest felt tight. She tried to think through the fear clouding her mind. If she stopped now, what would happen to Adam? He'd just disappear, swallowed by whatever mess he got tangled up in. He didn't deserve that.
Aaliya forced herself to move. She couldn't sit here, waiting for another call that might never come. She needed answers.
And she knew exactly where to start.
The café from yesterday felt different now.
It wasn't the cozy, warm place she remembered. The air felt colder, the usual chatter and clinking of cups distant. Aaliya sat by the window, her hands wrapped around a cup of tea she wasn't drinking. Her mind wasn't really here.
She was waiting.
For him.
Faris Al-Fayez.
He'd show up — she was sure of it. People like him didn't just disappear. They lingered. They watched from the shadows, waiting for people to make a mistake.
The door jingled, and Aaliya looked up instinctively. For a second, her heart kicked up — but it wasn't him. Just an older man with a newspaper.
She sighed, staring into her untouched tea.
What was she even expecting? That he'd walk in, sit down, and tell her everything she wanted to know? That he'd suddenly grow a conscience?
The rational part of her told her to leave. Faris wasn't someone she should get involved with. He wasn't a hero, and he definitely wasn't on her side. He made that clear enough.
But the desperate part of her — the part that refused to let go of Adam— wouldn't let her move.
The door jingled again.
This time, the café went quiet.
Aaliya didn't have to look up to know who it was. She felt it in the air, like the room had shifted around him. Conversations died, chairs scraped awkwardly, and the barista fumbled with a cup behind the counter.
Faris didn't walk in like a customer. He strolled in like he owned the place, shoulders relaxed, hands shoved into the pockets of his expensive coat. He wasn't wearing his sunglasses this time. His dark eyes swept the room lazily, barely interested — until they landed on her.
His gaze locked onto hers like a hook.
For a second, she couldn't breathe.
He tilted his head, slow and almost amused, before walking toward her table. Each step felt heavier than it should have, like the floorboards creaked under his weight alone.
She hated that her heart was racing.
Faris didn't sit. He stopped by her table, looking down at her like she was an inconvenience.
"You again," he said, voice low and indifferent. "Didn't I tell you to stop?"
Aaliya swallowed hard.
"I didn't ask for your permission," she said, her voice steadier than she felt.
Faris's lips twitched into something that wasn't quite a smirk.
"Brave," he murmured, tilting his head. "Stupid. But brave."
Her hands curled into fists under the table.
"You know where Adam is."
Faris exhaled through his nose, barely a laugh. He leaned on the back of the empty chair across from her, never taking his eyes off hers.
"You think this is a game, don't you?" he said, voice quieter now. "Running around Istanbul, asking questions, getting in people's way. You have no idea who you're messing with."
"Then tell me," she snapped. "If I'm so clueless, why don't you enlighten me?"
Faris studied her for a moment. Something flickered in his expression — gone too fast to catch.
"I tried," he said quietly. "But you didn't listen."
He straightened up again, and for a second, she thought he was about to walk away. But instead, he leaned down. His voice dropped lower, just for her.
"You should worry less about finding Adam," he murmured, "and more about who else might find you first."
Her throat tightened.
"Is that a threat?"
Faris didn't blink.
"It's a promise."
Then he was gone. He walked out like he'd never been there, leaving the café colder than before. Conversations started up again slowly, awkward and stilted, like the room was shaking off his presence.
Aaliya stared at the empty chair in front of her. Her heart hammered in her chest.
She didn't believe him.
Not for a second.
He knew something — and he wasn't telling her.
But Faris made one mistake. He thought a warning would scare her off.
It didn't.
It only made her more determined.
She wasn't going to stop. Not until she found Adam. Not until she found the truth — no matter what Faris Al-Fayez thought.
Even if it meant going through him.
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