𝐂𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐲 𝐕𝐨𝐰𝐬

Chapter 58

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The world bent in that moment, time shattered like glass, and all that remained was the collision of two broken souls.

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Wattpad was glitching earlier, so if your comment didn’t go through, feel free to try again — I’d love to hear your thoughts!

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The black tinted car glided through the narrow roads like a predator in silence, its engine’s low hum the only sound cutting through the suffocating quiet. Inside, the air was heavier than smoke. Osman sat rigid, his tall frame consuming the leather seat, one elbow pressed against the window as his cold eyes fixed outside. His jaw was locked so tightly it seemed carved from stone, a muscle ticking under the beard that had grown wild over the weeks. He no longer resembled the carefully groomed aristocrat that once commanded respect—this was a man stripped of patience, stripped of warmth, carved into something far more unapproachable.

Fahd sat on the other side, his nose still taped from the punch he had received earlier, his body stiff but his demeanor oddly casual. He glanced at his brother, then quickly away—Osman’s gaze had a way of burning through flesh even when it wasn’t directed at him.

Salem sat in the passenger seat, hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were pale. He hadn’t said a word in the last twenty minutes, not after Osman’s warning glare had silenced him.

The silence wasn’t just silence—it was a battlefield.

Two hours earlier.

The air in the penthouse had smelled of disinfectant and gun oil, Fahd blinking against the harsh light as consciousness returned to him. He turned his head and the first thing he saw was his half-brother—seated across the room, staring at him with eyes that felt like accusations.

Those weren’t the eyes of gratitude. They were the eyes of a man ready to put a bullet through his skull.

Fahd cleared his throat and attempted a shaky smile. “Hello…”

Salem had quickly stepped forward, trying to ease the sharpness in the room. “Sir,” he greeted warmly, forcing some humanity into the tension. “This is—”

“I know who he is.” Osman’s voice cut through like a knife, low, flat, dangerous.

And then he stood.

His movements were deliberate, his steps heavy as he closed the distance to the bed. Fahd instinctively leaned back, but forced a nervous chuckle, trying not to show the fear creeping up his spine. Osman pulled out his gun with a calmness that was far worse than rage, sliding the safety off.

“I want answers,” Osman said, voice quiet but laced with steel. “And you will give me the truth. Or I swear I will empty this into your chest without blinking.”

The threat wasn’t shouted—it was promised.

Fahd blinked, forcing a laugh that cracked. “Bro—listen. There’s no need for violence. Obviously, I’ll answer. But first…” His stomach growled at the worst possible time. “I need something to eat.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Fahd felt Osman’s gaze crawl all over him, assessing whether he was mocking him or truly starving. Osman finally tilted his head toward Salem in a single sharp command. Salem exhaled in relief, quickly ordering food.

Minutes later, Fahd ate like a man who hadn’t seen food in days. Osman stood nearby, watching him like a hawk, the gun still in his hand, finger brushing the trigger every so often.