Chapter 5 Face to face with the past

Jamal opened the door wearing nothing but expensive silk pants and a gold chain that rested over his thick chest. When he saw her, he froze-Amina, the woman whose family was destroyed and the ghost of a past he thought had been forgotten. He blinked twice. "Amina?"

She didn't smile. "Surprised?"

His arrogant mask briefly cracked as he instinctively backed away. "How did you-what are you doing here?"

"I came to return something," she said, stepping inside uninvited.

The villa smelled of wine, cigars, and lies. The same kind of lavish life she once thought was a dream, before it became her prison.

Jamal shut the door behind her. "Does your new husband know you're here?"

"Does your mother know you still tremble when you see me?" she fired back.

He laughed nervously. "You haven't changed."

"No," she said, eyes dark. "I've evolved."

He poured himself a drink and offered her one. She ignored it.

"You came for closure?" he asked. "Or revenge?"

"Closure is for the weak. I came to remind you that I'm not the scared girl you framed."

Jamal raised a brow. "You think I framed you?"

She stepped forward, her voice sharp. "Don't play innocent, Jamal. You and your mother destroyed me. She blamed me for the gold theft. You said nothing. You let them arrest me. You stood there while I cried, and said nothing."

"I was young," he muttered.

"You were evil," she snapped. "Ten years. Ten years of hell. And not once did you come to see me."

He sat down, running a hand through his short hair. "My mother said it was better to cut ties. She stated that the family would experience even more shame if I visited you. Amina shook her head, disgusted. "And you listened. Like a good little prince."

There was silence.

Then he looked up, suddenly calm. "So what do you want now, Amina? Money? An apology?"

She leaned forward slowly, her face close to his. "I want to watch you suffer. Just like I did."

---

That night, she returned to the apartment in silence. Zayn was waiting on the balcony, sipping something dark.

He stood when she entered, his eyes scanning her face.

"You didn't press the panic button."

"I didn't need to," she said, taking off her shoes. "He's more pathetic than I remember."

Zayn smirked. "You know, that's the best form of retaliation. Becoming stronger while they become nothing."

Amina sat beside him. He inquired whether I desired an apology. Or money."

"What did you say?"

"I said I want him to suffer."

Zayn leaned closer, his hand brushing hers. "Then we make him suffer. Together."

For a moment, Amina stared at the city lights. "He and his mother have a new mining contract. Worth billions."

Zayn said, anticipating her next words, "I know." "I want it gone."

---

The following weeks were a whirlwind of schemes.

Zayn tapped into his global contacts. Amina used her story, her foundation, and her new reputation. Whispers began to circle online-rumours of corruption in Jamal's family company, secrets about the stolen gold, even suspicions that someone else had confessed, but it was hidden.

Articles were written. Journalists started digging. Investors hesitated.

Then Amina did the unthinkable-she sat down with a major news outlet and gave a full interview.

She looked straight into the camera, poised and powerful.

"I was framed. Silenced. Thrown away, she declared. But I got up. And I'm not done rising."

Her words went viral.

The court of public opinion turned. Overnight, the Yusuf family name was no longer a whisper of shame-it was a name of survival.

---

Madame Shadia, Jamal's mother, showed up at Amina's foundation a week later. In broad daylight.

She wore her usual pride-heels, diamonds, and enough perfume to choke a room. But her eyes were panicked.

Guards tried to stop her, but Amina waved them off.

They met in the glass office upstairs.

Madame Shadia didn't sit.

"You've proved your point," Amina crossed her legs. "I haven't even started."

"You're destroying our name," Shadia hissed.

"Good."

"You want money? Take it. I'll write a check now."

Amina stood, walking slowly around the desk. "I don't want your dirty money."

"Then what do you want?!"

Amina leaned in, her voice ice. "I want a public confession. I want you to go on record and admit what you did to me."

Shadia's face turned pale.

"You think I'll ruin my reputation for your pity?"

"No," Amina said. "For your survival."

She dropped a file on the table-documents proving the illegal deal Shadia had made to frame her. Copies of audio. Bank transfers.

Shadia's hands trembled as she opened it.

"Where did you get this?"

"Doesn't matter. What matters is what happens if I give it to the press."

Shadia sat slowly, the power bleeding from her face.

"You always were more dangerous than I thought," she whispered.

Amina smiled.

"That will now be known to the world." ---

Later that evening, Zayn and Amina celebrated on the rooftop of their apartment, a private dinner under the stars.

"You're incredible," Zayn said, watching her eat chocolate cake like it was a victory.

"I'm reborn," she replied.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box.

She blinked. "What is that?"

"Open it."

Inside was a pendant-delicate gold, shaped like a phoenix rising from fire.

She held it gently. "It's beautiful."

"It's you," he said. "And this... this is just the beginning."

Amina looked at him, her heart full of something she hadn't felt in years.

Hope.

But deep inside, the fire of vengeance still flickered.

Madame Shadia may have bent.

Jamal may have crumbled.

But the empire that built her prison still stood.

And now, she was ready to burn it down.