Chapter 470
Chapter 470
N'zar didn't hear the rest of the conversation.
The Sultan’s words had struck a place that no blade, no bullet, and no political betrayal had managed to reach in his entire life.
His mind remained fixed on that sentence, repeating it in different ways, as if rearranging the words might reveal a less cruel meaning.
It didn't.
The hall remained filled with voices, clinking glasses, hushed laughter, and soft music, yet everything seemed distant. Guests moved around the head table, distracted by idle chatter, while N'zar’s world crumbled in silence.
He looked at the Sultan.
The man wore an expression far too calm for someone who had just set an entire house ablaze.
N'zar knew how to spot a lie.
He had spent his life doing just that.
He had interrogated men who swore their innocence with tears in their eyes, men who kissed his hand before attempting to poison him, women who smiled while concealing knives beneath their dresses.
Yet, in that moment, he could find no trace of a lie on the Sultan’s face.
Only certainty.
Cold.
Cruel.
Unwavering.
N'zar tightened his hand around his glass.
For an instant, he feared he might shatter it.
“You were deceived.”
No.
Arthur might have tried many things.
He could have plotted an escape, won over allies, or tried to plant men among the staff.
But this?
No.
Not like this.
N'zar slowly stood up.
A few people glanced his way, but no one dared ask a question.
He adjusted his jacket, swallowed the dryness in his throat, and forced his voice to remain steady.
“If you’ll excuse me.”
He didn't wait for a reply.
He walked across the hall under the weight of dozens of gazes, but he didn't care. For the first time in years, N'zar couldn't maintain his mask.
He needed to breathe.
He needed to get out of there before anyone realized that another man's words had managed to throw him off balance.
The estate's corridors seemed longer that night.
The stone walls, the antique artworks, the imported rugs, and the gilded light fixtures were all part of an empire built to project power. Every detail had been chosen to remind visitors that N'zar was a man beyond reach.
That night, however, it all felt like a lie.
He pushed open a side door and stepped out into the garden.
The warm air hit his face.
It wasn't enough.
He kept walking.
Marble fountains filled the garden with the constant sound of water, while tall trees swayed slowly in the night breeze. A white stone path wound between rosebushes and small ancient sculptures, yet N'zar saw no beauty in it.
He simply walked.
One step after another.
Moving away from the ballroom.
Moving away from the people.
Trying to move away from the truth.
“Mara Versari.”
The name cut through his mind like a blade.
He stopped.
Mara had arrived at the estate after Arthur’s kidnapping.
Not immediately.
She hadn't been careless enough for that.
She had appeared weeks later, bringing information, documents, contacts, and an attitude useful enough to earn her a place within the household.
N'zar remembered the first time she had walked through those doors.
Elegant.
Cold.
Intelligent.
Mara had shown no fear.
That had impressed him.
People usually trembled in his presence, even when they tried to hide it. Mara, by contrast, had looked him in the eye as if he were an ordinary man.
Perhaps that had been the first mistake.
N'zar kept walking. Memories began to realign.
Mara knew too many details about Arthur.
She claimed she had done her research.
She knew how he thought.
She said men like Arthur were predictable.
She knew when he was lying.
She said she knew criminals like him.
She had defended certain decisions that, in hindsight, seemed designed to keep him alive.
To keep him close.
To pave the way.
N'zar felt his stomach knot.
“No.”
The word escaped softly.
Almost a whisper.
He ran a hand over his face and took a deep breath.
Mara wouldn't have the nerve.
She wouldn't be capable of deceiving him for so long.
Not like that.
Not with such cold calculation.
N'zar recalled the times she had stayed up late under the pretext of reviewing documents. He remembered Arthur disappearing from certain areas at those exact times. He remembered conversations cut short whenever he entered a room.
At the time, he hadn't thought much of it.
Arthur was surrounded.
Mara was under surveillance.
Neither of them would have had the opportunity to hatch a plan.
Or so he had believed.
Humiliation began to burn beneath his skin.
It wasn't just the fact that he had been deceived.
It was the duration.
The precision.
The coldness.
They had walked before him, talked to him, sat at the table, exchanged glances, and built an alliance while N'zar He believed he controlled every move.
He had been reduced to a spectator in his own home.
The thought nearly suffocated him.
N'zar quickened his pace.
He refused to accept it.
He concocted explanations.
Mara might be helping Arthur out of self-interest.
She might have been threatened.
She might be under someone's manipulation.
There could be any number of other reasons.
Anything would be better than accepting that she had entered the estate with a specific agenda.
Anything would be better than admitting the Sultan was right.
That was when N'zar lifted his gaze.
The side of the estate came into view, illuminated by the lights within. Large glass windows offered a glimpse of some of the smaller salons and private corridors.
He intended to keep walking.
He couldn't.
Movement behind one of the windows caught his eye.
Arthur.
N'zar stopped.
Mara was with him.
The two remained partially hidden by the curtains. They stood close, though not close enough to appear intimate to a casual observer.
N'zar, however, was no longer unobservant.
Not that night.
Mara glanced to the side.
Then behind her.
Arthur also scanned the surrounding area.
Cautious.
Vigilant.
Like two people accustomed to hiding something.
N'zar felt his heart pounding violently.
He couldn't hear what they were saying.
He didn't need to.
Their bodies spoke volumes.
Arthur leaned toward her.
Mara said something in response.
He grasped her arm.
She tried to pull away.
Arthur drew her back in and raised a hand to her face.
Then he tried to kiss her.
The world stood still.
Mara turned her face away at the last moment and glanced around again—nervous, yet not surprised.
She didn't look offended.
She looked worried about being seen.
That was all. N'zar felt as if the ground were vanishing beneath his feet.
Reality crashed down on him all at once.
Mara knew Arthur.
Not as an informant.
Not as an enemy.
Not as someone who had studied him from afar.
She knew him—truly.
She knew his gestures.
His touch.
His closeness.
The way he held her wasn't new.
Nor was the way she had reacted.
They had done this before.
Perhaps many times.
N'zar took a step back.
The veil was torn away.
All doubts turned to certainty.
All coincidences became evidence.
All memories took on a new meaning.
Arthur had never been alone.
Mara had never truly been by N'zar's side.
The two of them had simply waited.
Built.
Lied.
He turned his face away.
He couldn't bear to keep looking.
A heavy pain pierced his chest, followed by a rage so intense his hands began to tremble.
N'zar clenched his fists.
He wanted to go back inside.
He wanted to tear Arthur out of that hallway.
He wanted to ask Mara how long it had been going on.
He wanted to hear the lie straight from her lips before destroying her.
But then he heard footsteps on the stone path.
Light.
Unhurried.
He turned around.
Cleopatra was walking alone through the garden.
His daughter wore a light-colored dress with gold details that caught the low light scattered across the outdoor area. Her hair was delicately pinned up, leaving her youthful face fully visible.
She looked calm.
Innocent.
N'zar needed a few seconds to put on a different expression.
The father emerged before the betrayed man.
He smiled.
A fake smile, yet a perfect one.
"Cleopatra."
She looked up and smiled when she saw him.
"Papa."
N'zar stepped closer. “What are you doing out here alone?”
Cleopatra gave a delicate shrug and looked toward the trees.
“Taking a walk.”
“During dinner?”
“I needed to clear my head.”
Her answer made N'zar study her more closely.
“Was there a problem?”