Chapter 59

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Let the world call me mad-I will worship this madness if it is you.

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Three weeks ago…

The screech of tires echoed through the dimly lit street as bullets ricocheted against the armored car. Ahmed, tried to get inside, shouted, “Stay down, Aamirah! Don’t move!”

But Aamirah’s trembling hands had already wrapped around the baby, clutching little Mohammed to her chest as though her heartbeat could shield him from the violence outside. The sound of bullets cracking against the bulletproof glass made her flinch, but she forced herself to stay still.

Her breath was ragged. I won’t let anything happen to this child. Even if it’s the last thing I do.

Then—suddenly—the shattering sound of glass. A small canister was hurled through the emergency window, spinning across the floor before releasing a strange white powder. A choking fog spread instantly, clawing its way into her lungs.

“No… no!” she coughed, tightening her grip on Mohammed. Her vision blurred, her knees growing weak. She recognized it instantly—chloroform powder.

Ahmed tried to reach for his gun, but a sharp shot pierced through his leg. Aamirah screamed as Ahmed slumped down on the road, his blood staining the clean path.

“A-Ahmed!” her voice broke.

The smoke stung her eyes, tears spilling as she forced herself to stay conscious. Mohammed whimpered weakly in her arms, his small cries muffled against her chest.

The car door wrenched open. A tall man, his face concealed beneath a mask, loomed over her. His voice was low, almost mocking.
“The baby. Hand him over.”

Aamirah shook her head furiously, holding Mohammed tighter. “Please—don’t hurt him! Take me, not him!” Her voice was desperate, cracking under fear.

But her strength was fading. The man pried her arms apart, ignoring her trembling pleas.
“You’ll both live. For now.”

“No!” she gasped, as Mohammed was wrenched from her hold. Even as her muscles betrayed her, even as her body collapsed, her fingers still tried to cling to the baby’s blanket until they were peeled away one by one.

The masked man handed the infant to another waiting figure. “Take him. Keep him safe.”

Through her fading consciousness, she caught one last sight—the baby being carried away, his small hands reaching out instinctively toward her.

A tear slipped down her cheek. I failed him…

But before her world went black, the man caught her limp body, lowering her into another car with a gentleness that did not match his brutality. His face remained hidden, his voice controlled.
“Careful with her. She must be kept with utmost respect.”

It was Fahd.

He nodded to his men, and in swift precision, they set the trap: another lifeless body was placed inside the ruined, bullet-ridden car—clothed in Aamirah’s garments. The evidence was arranged perfectly, even they forged the dna reports.

“Burn it,” Fahd ordered coldly.

Flames erupted, consuming the car from within as the doors were locked shut. To anyone who found it, it would look as though Aamirah and Mohammed had perished in the ambush.

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