In the Heart of Darkness

Chapter 58: Are you leaving me?

The large iron gates of the mansion creaked open as the car came to a halt. Zara, pale and weary, stepped out with the help of Sophia and the maids. Her sharp gaze scanned the sprawling estate, but it wasn't the grandeur that unsettled her-it was the absence of him. Ibrahim.

Sophia noticed her hesitance and spoke softly, "Zara, are you sure about staying in your old room? It's too far from the main wing, and you-"

"I'll be fine," Zara interrupted, her tone firm but hollow. "I don't belong in the master bedroom anymore."

Sophia opened her mouth to argue, but the sadness in Zara's eyes stopped her. She exchanged a glance with the maids, silently instructing them to follow Zara's wishes. Zara pretended to be unaffected, but deep down, a pang of disappointment gnawed at her. Not seeing Ibrahim since yesterday-neither at the hospital nor at home-was a wound she couldn't admit even to herself.

But her pride held her back. She wouldn't ask about him. She couldn't.

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In Ibrahim's office,

Ibrahim stood at the edge of a long oak table, his figure cloaked in a commanding aura. The room was stark, devoid of unnecessary decor, with maps, photographs, and documents strewn across the table. Across from him, James Kennedy, his private detective, sat with a file in hand.

"I need answers, James," Ibrahim growled, his voice sharp and low. "I don't have the luxury of patience anymore."

James swallowed, trying to maintain composure under Ibrahim's piercing gaze. "I've traced the leads back to a network in Eastern Europe, but it's not confirmed. There's a high possibility Vincent Knight is involved-his name keeps popping up in these circles. But I need more time to be certain."

"Time?" Ibrahim's voice rose slightly, a dangerous edge slicing through the air. "Time is the one thing I don't have, James. My son's life is hanging by a thread, and every second we waste could mean..." He stopped, his fists clenching. The thought of losing his son was unbearable.

James nodded quickly, flipping through his notes. "I understand, sir. Knight has been under the radar for years. His operations are layered-shell companies, offshore accounts, and middlemen. It's like chasing a shadow."

Ibrahim leaned forward, his dark eyes burning with a mix of fury and desperation. "Then bring the shadow into the light. Tear apart every company he owns, interrogate his men, bribe, threaten-do whatever it takes. I don't care about his layers. I care about results."

James hesitated. "Sir, Vincent Knight isn't just anyone. He's powerful. Dangerous. He has connections-"

Ibrahim slammed his hand on the table, the sound echoing in the room. "Do I look like I care about his connections?" His voice was thunderous now, his authority undeniable. "Do you think I built my empire by cowering before men like him? If Knight thinks he can touch what's mine, he'll learn what it means to provoke me."

James flinched but nodded resolutely. "I'll have definitive information by tonight."

"You'd better," Ibrahim said coldly. "And James-"

"Yes, sir?"

"If Vincent Knight is involved, he won't see tomorrow's sunrise."

The detective nodded and hurried out, leaving Ibrahim alone.

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Later that evening, back at the mansion...

Zara sat by the window of her old room, the golden hues of the setting sun painting her face. She gazed out blankly, her mind a whirlpool of emotions. Where was Ibrahim? Did he even care about her anymore? She tried to shake off the thoughts, convincing herself it didn't matter.