Chapter 1 1

Malika.

It was a morning full of excitement. I am Malika, seventeen years old-the spoiled only child of my parents. I woke up to screams and thought I had failed my high school exams.

Even though I was spoiled as the only child, living in a mansion and getting anything I wanted, I was still hardworking in my studies.

I was fairly disciplined, going from school straight home.

You could say I had classmates, but no real close friends. I was a shy girl. I didn't know anything about men, boys, or love-except for the love I had for my parents.

I jumped out of bed, trembling with worry and fear, looking at my bedroom door, then glancing quickly at the wall clock-it was five in the morning.

Immediately, I threw on my robe and ran to the door, hearing screams shaking the whole mansion.

"Mom! Dad!"

I turned my head, searching for them in the hallways, only to see the maids crying their hearts out.

"Where's Mom and Dad? What happened? Someone talk to me," I barely managed to walk down the stairs.

"Can someone please answer me?" My heart started pounding, their crying and wailing felt deadly. I sensed something terrible had happened to them.

One of the maids finally spoke, her words hitting me like a truck as she wiped her tears. "May God have mercy on them. Stay strong, dear."

I didn't understand what she meant. I ran downstairs, looking for them. "Who died? Where's Dad? Where's Mom?"

That's when I heard my nanny's voice coming from behind me.

"May God rest their souls. They died in an accident, my dear, while they were on their way to get your results. The hospital and the police station called us."

I collapsed to the ground, crying my heart out, wailing for the first time in my life.

"No! Dad and Mom were my whole life! Who do I live for now? How will I go on? You're lying!"

I scrambled towards my dad's office, opened the door, and searched for him, but found no one. Like a madwoman, I ran upstairs to their room. I couldn't believe it. I thought it was a filthy nightmare.

My nanny ran after me and pulled me into her arms.

"Sweetie, don't do this to yourself. This is God's will. Calm down and pray for them."

"Dad and Mom, Nanny! I want them." I kept crying, unable to believe it.

For a moment, I thought about ending my life, but I sought God's forgiveness. I knew my parents were in heaven, and I just wanted to see them there. But how could I live without them?

"Nanny, what am I going to do? Who do I live for now? How can I go on without them?"

"I want to see them."

My nanny gently patted my shoulder. "Honey, your uncle is here and will be coming up soon. You can't go into the morgue."

I raised my head. "My uncle? Which uncle? The one who stole from Dad years ago? My oldest uncle who cut us off from the whole family and kept Dad and me away from Grandpa and Grandma just because Dad married Mom? Because he married someone not from their class and who didn't have millions?"

Yes, my oldest uncle was the head of the family. A cruel man. He made the whole family cut us off because Mom came from a middle-class background. Because, as he always said, she was a "loser." Why? Because she was the director of an orphanage and didn't take a salary. Because she didn't care about money.

"Nanny! I want to go to the funeral-and the morgue before that. I want to see them," I insisted. It was as if I'd grown up in a single moment.

The phone rang. One of the maids answered, then started crying again.

From upstairs, I looked down in confusion. My heart was already in pieces.

"What is it, Manal?" I asked.

"You passed."

"You got first place in the whole high school."

Of course, the news meant nothing now.

"What difference does it make?" I said, feeling lost. Until I heard a strange man's voice say,

"It makes a big difference, my niece. I wouldn't let my son marry you if you were a failure."

At first, I thought I was hallucinating, losing my mind from shock. I looked down and saw a strong man, his eyes showing just how heartless he was. He was imposing and scary.

"Who are you?" I asked, but deep down I knew-he looked just like my late father, only older, but his face was marked with anger.

"I'm your eldest uncle."

"What do you want from me? And what marriage are you talking about? Get out of my house." It was the first time I'd ever talked back. I remembered the tears I'd seen in Dad's eyes when he said he missed his family and wished he could see them.

I repeated myself, "I said, get out of our house."

My uncle shouted in a way that made me freeze.

"How dare you talk to me like that! Your father didn't raise you right, but I will. Me and my son."

"Get out. Get out. Get ouuuuut!" I screamed like a madwoman, running down to face him as if he was the one who'd killed Mom and Dad. But then I felt a slap so hard it nearly knocked me to the ground, if not for one of the maids catching me. I looked up and saw a very handsome, tall young man with blue eyes and thick, soft black hair. He was wearing a stunning suit, his muscles visible through his shirt and from the hand that had just left a mark on my face.

He yelled at me, gritting his teeth. "I'm the one who's going to teach you manners for talking to my father that way. Who do you think you are? You're nothing. Your father was in debt to everyone, and if it weren't for our family's reputation, we would've let you beg on the streets."

His words were terrifying, and I was about to call him a liar-but then I remembered that Dad had told me to study hard because he didn't want me to end up in a private university. I remembered overhearing him negotiating to sell the villa at the coast, the one Mom loved, and when I asked him, he said, "I'll get you a better one soon."

"What do you want from me? Let me beg, then," I said, looking into my uncle's and cousin's eyes.

For a moment, I thought my uncle felt pity. He sighed and came closer.

"I can't, unfortunately. You're my brother's daughter! You're still young."

Like an idiot, I replied sarcastically, "You're probably happy he's dead. You stole from him and kept the family away from him."

My cousin raised his hand again to hit me, but this time I covered my face. My uncle stopped him with his words.

"Your mother was a dancer! A dancer, going from bar to bar and cabaret to cabaret! You don't know anything."

"You're a liar!" I shouted at my uncle. This time, my cousin grabbed me by the hair.

"Listen, I can't stand you. I wasn't even okay with marrying you, but now, I swear to God, I will. I'll teach you respect! You're probably just like your mother."

"Get your hands off me, you creep! Who do you think you are?" I tried to push his hand off my hair like he was my enemy.

Suddenly, he pulled my face close to his, glaring at me.

"I'm Mazen Gamal! I'm the one who will teach you respect! I'll make you wish for death!"

He shoved me to the ground and looked at me from head to toe.

"You have one hour to pack your things and get ready to come to our house. And be ready-our wedding is next week. I'll have you examined before the wedding."

Of course, I stammered in shock. "What wedding? What exam? My parents just died! Are you insane?"

He moved closer, grinding his teeth like a beast.

"You know what? One more word from you and I'll come at you like men used to in the old days!" I had no idea what he meant, but it sounded terrifying.

Despite how elegant he looked-and the fact that we were from an aristocratic family-his words were savage. In the end, it was his father who saved me from him.

"Mazen, go easy on her. I told you to marry her because I won't let my brother's daughter end up homeless. But not to humiliate her."

My uncle reached out and pulled me into a hug.

"Sweetheart, you're still young. I have to protect you. One day you'll understand that my heart is in the right place."

But Mazen threw in one last threat with a sneer.

"If I find out you're not a virgin, I'll kill you on our wedding night."

I slapped him across the face, and that was the beginning of my end. Little did I know back then that he was the Mafia king!