The morning light filtered through the towering windows of Noor's estate, spreading a soft, golden glow across the marble floors. The young CEOs—her carefully sculpted creations—were preparing to leave, the air thick with polite goodbyes and subdued excitement.
But there was something off. A kind of tension that hummed just beneath the surface, like a storm waiting to break, or perhaps a game Noor was playing, one only she truly understood.
Noor stood by the marble pillars, her figure as statuesque as the estate itself. She was everything in that moment—composed, untouchable, an enigma. Her silence, however, was the loudest thing in the room.
Zedra, ever the rebellious spirit, stepped forward, a collection of old, worn leather diaries clasped in her hands. She had been chasing Noor's , and it seemed today, she was on the verge of something. Or perhaps not.
Noor didn't look at her immediately. She tilted her head slightly, as if sizing her up. When she spoke, her voice was low, too sweet to be anything but a dare.
"You still haven't given up, have you, Zedra?"
Zedra bristled slightly at the implication but held her ground. "Some things are worth uncovering."
Noor's lips curled into the faintest of smiles. "Oh, sweet child, how adorably persistent you are. I'm almost proud of you." Her gaze flickered toward the diaries Zedra was clutching like a lifeline. "But let me ask you this, darling— You're not exactly the brightest bulb in the box, are you? What if it's not what you think?"
Zedra's jaw tightened, but she didn't back down. "Then I'll keep digging."
"Hmm. Digging," Noor mused, her tone thick with mock sympathy. "How charming. But you know, Zedra, it's just like playing in the sandbox when you're a child—so eager to find something, but then you end up with sand in your mouth. And you've ruined your favorite dress."
Zedra's fingers tightened around the books. There was no sense in pushing forward, not when Noor was so effortlessly dismantling her resolve.
Noor leaned in ever so slightly, her eyes gleaming with a cold, amused understanding. "Tell me, my dear, what will happen if you open those diaries?" Her voice dropped to a soft whisper, almost conspiratorial. "Will you find some heart-wrenching tragedy? Or maybe you'll find that I'm nothing but a bored woman who filled her journals with shopping lists to pass the time. Oh, wouldn't that be fun for you?"
Zedra was silent, a flicker of doubt crossing her face. Noor was toying with her—like a cat playing with a mouse, but no matter how Zedra spun this, she couldn't escape the unsettling truth: Noor was right.
"Maybe it's better you don't find out at all," Noor continued, her smile sharp and knowing. "You see, darling, truth is a tricky thing. You spend all your energy hunting for it, and when you finally get it, it'll just stare you in the face, cold and indifferent, and you'll be left wondering what the hell you even wanted in the first place."
Zedra swallowed.
Noor gave a soft, almost pitying sigh. "But then again, you are persistent, aren't you? So much so, I can almost taste the desperation on you."
Zedra stepped back, unsure whether to be offended or impressed.
Noor's voice lightened. "But don't worry, Zedra. You're young. You'll figure it out eventually, just like the rest of them. Keep trying to unearth me. But remember—some things aren't meant to be found. I'll let you know when you've dug too deep."
Zedra, on the edge of frustration, held the diaries tight against her chest. She turned without another word, walking away with a mix of uncertainty and quiet fury.
Noor's eyes followed her, lips still curved in that dangerous, knowing smile.
---
The rest of the estate moved with its usual precise efficiency. Servants glided through the halls, ensuring every last detail was perfect. The young CEOs exchanged pleasantries, some of them sneaking glances at Noor, while others exchanged hushed, cautious words about the bizarre power she wielded over them.
Jil, one of the bolder personalities, leaned over to Zain, murmuring, "You saw that, right?"
Zain shot a sideways glance at Noor, her figure receding into the distance. "Saw it. Felt it. Almost choked on it."
Jil raised an eyebrow. "What is it with her? It's like she's always five steps ahead, reading us before we even open our mouths."
Zain snorted. "No, Jil, it's worse than that. She's not ahead of us. She's the one writing the damn book."
Jil's eyes flickered toward Zedra, who was now standing silently, still clutching the diaries. "What do you think is in those things?"
Zain shrugged, eyes still on Noor. "The past. Or maybe she filled them with cat pictures just to mess with her. Who knows?"
Jil chuckled, but there was a hint of unease in her voice. "She knows things. She always does. It's like she can see right through us."
Zain gave her a sidelong glance. "She can see through us. And she enjoys it."
Jil shifted her gaze to Noor's retreating figure, her expression unreadable. "She's... different. You ever get the feeling she's not just playing a game? That she's making the rules as she goes along?"
Zain raised an eyebrow. "What are you, a philosopher now? It's simple—she's the puppet master, and we're all just too stupid to realize it."
A beat of silence passed.
Then Jil muttered, almost to herself, "And yet, she looks so tired. So... worn out."
Zain didn't respond immediately. He just glanced at Noor again. "No. She's not tired. She's bored. There's a difference."
---
The young CEOs trickled out of the estate, one by one, their respectful nods toward Noor brief but laced with the knowledge that their departure wasn't the end.
Zedra, the last to leave, stood at the threshold for a moment longer. Her eyes met Noor's, and for a split second, something unreadable passed between them.
"Do you have something else to say, Zedra?" Noor asked, her tone light and deceptively sweet. "Or are you still busy trying to unearth a ghost?"
Zedra swallowed, biting back the urge to lash out. "No, I just—" She stopped herself. "Goodbye."
Noor's lips quirked into a playful, almost patronizing smile. "Goodbye, darling. Try not to break anything while you're out there. I wouldn't want you to get dirty."
Zedra stood frozen for a moment before finally stepping into her car. The door slammed shut behind her, and she was gone.
Noor lingered on the steps for just a moment longer, watching the cars disappear into the distance. There was no relief, no satisfaction, just... inevitability.
She turned and walked back inside.
---
The air in Noor's estate seemed heavier now, the quiet a stark contrast to the flurry of departure just hours before. Noor, in her timeless elegance, sat in her favorite room—a large, circular lounge where golden light bathed the marble floors and walls lined with age-old tomes seemed to whisper forgotten secrets. It was here, amid the soft rustling of the curtains, that Sanlang found himself alone with her.
He'd come for a simple rest, exhausted from the previous night's events and the chaotic shifts in his world. Yet, the moment his eyes met Noor's—cool, calculating, with that faint, ever-present smirk—he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd walked into something much more complicated than mere rest.
"You didn't have to stay," Noor said casually, without looking up from the book she was lazily flipping through. Her voice, though calm, carried that distinct edge. "Not that I mind the company. It's... charming when you're not trying to pretend you're not interested in me."
Sanlang froze, a rush of heat flooding his chest. He knew she could read him, dissect his every thought with that maddening intuition of hers. His mouth went dry.
"I'm not pretending," he managed, his voice strained. He took a step forward, suddenly self-conscious. The room, despite its comfort, felt suffocating. "I just... needed a place to think."
"Oh, I'm sure you did," Noor murmured, still flipping through the pages with that effortless grace. She didn't even glance up, though there was something about her posture that suggested she was entirely aware of him. "You know, it's really quite cute how you think you can escape from yourself. Always running. But it's hard to outrun what's inside, isn't it?"
Sanlang's jaw tightened, the sting of her words sinking deeper than he cared to admit.
"Escape?" He almost laughed, though there was no humor in it. "I'm not trying to escape. Just... trying to make sense of things. You don't know what it's like, Noor. To have your mind constantly running, your heart in pieces, and everyone around you expecting you to be some perfect version of yourself."
Noor finally lifted her eyes from the book, her gaze sharp and piercing, as if she had been waiting for him to break—waiting for that crack in his polished facade.
"Do I not know?" Her voice was dangerously sweet now, like honey mixed with poison. "I know exactly what it's like. I've been there. You think I haven't lived with that chaos? That constant battle between the person you want to be and the one they want you to be?" She tilted her head slightly, observing him with an air of amusement. "It's adorable how you think I'm somehow immune to the mess inside my own mind."
Sanlang opened his mouth to respond but was immediately cut off by her dry, sarcastic laugh.
His breath hitched at the bluntness of her words, but somehow, he couldn't look away. It was as if she had peeled back the layers of his psyche and exposed it all, like some raw, unhealed wound that had no choice but to bleed.
"Maybe I don't want to be a puppet anymore," he muttered, the weight of his words heavier than he intended.
She studied him, her eyes calculating, her lips quivering in amusement. "Oh,But tell me how exactly do you plan to sever those strings? "
There it was again— the biting playfulness that was almost cruel in its delivery. It was the kind of humor that had a razor's edge, and it cut right through the heart of everything Sanlang had been trying to build up in his mind.
"I'm not here for your games, Noor," he shot back, more defensively than he intended. "I just need to think. So, unless you've got something else to say, I'll just take my leave."
Noor's smile widened, an almost imperceptible glint .
"Games?" She almost purred. She let the words linger, as if daring him to challenge her, to rise to the occasion and try to prove her wrong.
For a moment, the room was silent, save for the soft rustling of the pages in Noor's book. Sanlang stood still, his mind swirling with a mixture of frustration and... fascination. She was too much, and yet, everything about her drew him in. The way she spoke—like she knew all the secrets of the universe and was just waiting for the right moment to reveal them. The way she never, ever seemed to break, no matter how sharp or pointed the conversation became.
He clenched his fists at his sides. "I'm not interested in.... He hesitated."
She murmured, her voice full of dark amusement. "You always were."
His chest tightened. "You're impossible."
For a second, Sanlang couldn't breathe. The words hung in the air, wrapping around him, pulling him down.
"I don't know why I'm here," he muttered, shaking his head as if trying to rid himself of the dizziness she'd caused.
"So you don't?" Noor asked, her tone now soft, almost motherly in its mockery. "Do you? "
Sanlang swallowed hard, the lump in his throat growing. "And what is that?"
She leaned forward now, her smile widening.
Noor's smile remained fixed on her lips, her eyes gleaming.
Sanlang stood there, rooted to the spot, his mind whirling in a mess of confusion and frustration. He opened his mouth, trying to fight the overwhelming feeling that Noor had turned his entire world upside down. The calm in her demeanor—so unsettling, so deliberate—only made it worse. He couldn't understand how she made him feel this way, but that was exactly it, wasn't it? He couldn't understand her. And that drove him mad.
Noor's eyes never left his. She let the silence stretch between them, savoring the discomfort in his every twitch. Her hands, still elegant, adjusted the folds of her dress.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Sanlang found his voice again. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Enjoying what?" Noor asked innocently, the curve of her lips betraying her feigned innocence.
"I'm not upset." He swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure.
Noor leaned forward slightly, her gaze sharpening like a blade. "And yet, here you are. You can't help yourself."
Sanlang's chest tightened. She was right. He hated it, but she was right. He had come here for peace, for answers, yet all she gave him was more confusion, more questions.
"I didn't come here for you," he said, though his voice lacked conviction. "I just needed a place to... think."
"Of course you did." Noor's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Just like place to hide from whatever it is you're really running from. "
Sanlang's fists clenched. He could feel his control slipping. She had a way of unraveling him, of exposing his every insecurity. But he couldn't show it. He wouldn't let her see that she was getting under his skin.
"You think you know me?" He scoffed, though his words were laced with frustration. "You think you've got me all figured out? You've got no idea what I've been through."
Noor's smile was like the slow, inevitable approach of a storm. She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing with a glint of amusement. "Oh, I know you better than you know yourself."
Sanlang's breath hitched. The weight of her words hit him harder than he expected. He took a step back, trying to distance himself from the suffocating intensity of her presence.
She raised an eyebrow. "I see."
Her words were like ice, slicing through his defenses. Sanlang's heart pounded, his mind screaming at him to leave, but his body remained frozen.
"Stop it," he muttered, though his voice lacked the force it needed.
Noor stood slowly, her every movement graceful, calculated, like a predator sizing up its prey. She took a few steps toward him, her eyes never leaving his. She was so close now, too close, and Sanlang could feel his pulse quicken as the tension between them thickened.
His breath came faster now. He had to leave. He had to get out of there. But his feet refused to move, as if anchored by some invisible force. His mind screamed one thing, his body responded with another.
"Why do you do this?" He finally asked, his voice raw with emotion. "What do you want from me?"
Noor's expression softened just for a moment, as if considering his question carefully. "What do I want from you?" She repeated slowly, as if savoring the taste of the words. She paused, her gaze dropping to his lips, then back up to his eyes.
He wanted to argue, to deny it, but something in her words dug deeper than he cared to admit. He had no idea what she was talking about or what he was saying himself.
"You're just like them," he said bitterly, the words slipping out before he could stop them. "You're just like everyone else who wants something from me."
Noor's smile was slow, almost pitying. "Everyone else? " She stepped even closer, until there was barely an inch between them. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "What do YOU want, Sanlang."
He flinched, her words striking a chord deep within him. But still, he fought it. He couldn't let her break him. Not like this.
Noor's eyes darkened, Her voice was a commanding whisper, as if she were speaking directly to his soul. "And deep down, you know it. You've always known it."
Sanlang felt as if he were drowning. His pulse raced, his breath shallow, his thoughts scattered like fragments of broken glass. Noor had him cornered, and no matter how much he resisted, no matter how much he denied it, she was right.
He needed her.
But he couldn't let her see it. He wouldn't give her that satisfaction.
With all the strength he had left, Sanlang took a step back. "I'm leaving."
Noor's smile never wavered, but her eyes—those damn eyes—remained locked on him with an intensity that made him second-guess every move.
"Go ahead," she said softly. "
Sanlang turned and walked out of the room, every step heavy with the weight of her words. He could hear her voice echoing in his mind, wrapping around him like a chain. And despite every part of him screaming to get away, he knew she was right.
He would come back to her no matter what.
---
Sanlang stormed out, his footsteps heavy on the marble floor, as if he were trying to outrun the suffocating tension Noor had woven around him. Noor watched him leave without moving, the silence settling into the room like a thick fog.
It wasn't until the door clicked shut behind him that she allowed herself to take a breath. The mask of controlled indifference slipped for a fraction of a second, revealing the cracks underneath.
She had done it again. She had pushed him away.
The thought gnawed at her as she sat back down in her chair. Her fingers curled around the edge of the table, digging into the wood as if it could anchor her to something solid. She had made her choice, but every part of her wanted to take it back.
"Are you sure about this, Madam Noor?" a soft voice cut through her internal battle, causing her to stiffen.
Maya entered the room first, followed by Zeyla, both of them halting at the sight of Noor sitting there, her usual composure replaced by something far more unsettling. They exchanged a quick, confused glance before approaching her cautiously.
Zeyla, ever the observant one, raised an eyebrow as she took in the tension in the air. "What happened?"
Noor didn't respond immediately. Instead, she allowed herself another moment to collect herself, to bury whatever raw emotion threatened to rise to the surface. The walls she'd spent years building up were shaking, and it took every ounce of her willpower not to let them crumble.
Maya stood a few paces behind Zeyla, her face a mixture of concern and confusion. "You were laughing just an hour ago. The young oness were all here... and you were so... happy. What changed?"
Noor's lips tightened into a thin line, but her eyes—those eyes—betrayed her. Maya had been one of the few who had witnessed Noor's rare moments of ease, the times when she allowed herself to forget her burdens, to let the children and the people she cared about draw her out of the dark.
Zeyla, seeing the shift in Noor's demeanor, took a step forward. "You were different this morning... now... I don't understand."
Noor finally met their gazes, her expression cold, but there was something hidden beneath it—something too complex for either of them to comprehend. "There's nothing to understand," Noor replied, her voice clipped. "It's over. Let it go."
But they wouldn't let it go. Zeyla was sharp, and Maya was too observant. They could see that something was off.
Zeyla's eyes narrowed. "This isn't you, My Lady. You never let anyone see this side of you. "
Noor stood up, her chair scraping harshly against the floor, her movements deliberate as she straightened her dress. She turned her back on them, walking to the window, her fingers lightly brushing the cool glass. "I said it's nothing. "
The room fell into a heavy silence, and for a moment, neither Zeyla nor Maya knew what to say. They both knew better than to push her further.
And then, as if on cue, Maya's voice broke the silence. "You were different earlier, though. You smiled. You laughed. You never let anyone see that side of you. You were... alive with the young CEOs. You were happy."
Noor's breath caught in her throat. It was true. She had been happy. For a moment—a fleeting, precious moment—she had allowed herself to be. But then Sanlang had walked in, and the moment had shattered like glass.
A cold, painful lump formed in her throat as she stared out the window, her mind spiraling. Why? Why did she have to push him away like that? It was for his own good. She had to protect him. From herself.
Her thoughts echoed in her head like a drumbeat, a constant reminder of the danger of allowing anyone too close.
Her hand tightened into a fist, and she pressed it against the window, trying to block out the rising panic inside her.
Her mind went back to the breakfast table, where everything had seemed so easy. The laughter, the smiles, the lighthearted chatter with the young CEOs—orphans she had helped build empires from nothing. The joy she had felt in their presence had been so real. She hadn't been thinking about Sanlang then. But now, now it all felt like a mask.
She had to make him leave her. It was the only way to keep him safe. He didn't belong in her world.
I am not good for him. She repeated the mantra over and over again, trying to convince herself that the decision she had made was the right one.
Zeyla and Maya exchanged a look, but neither of them spoke. They knew better than to press her when she was like this. There was no getting through to Noor when she closed herself off, when the walls she had so carefully crafted were drawn up in defense.
Maya stepped back and whispered to Zeyla. "We'll give her space. She needs to work this out on her own."
Zeyla nodded, though the concern in her eyes lingered. She knew Noor's pain better than anyone, and seeing her like this, so fractured, unsettled something deep inside her.
But Noor—Noor would never admit it. Not out loud. Not ever.
---
She stood by the window, her gaze fixed on the sprawling gardens below, but her mind was a battlefield.
He can never know.
Her heart clenched at the thought. He can never know how much I need him, how much I want him to stay. But she couldn't afford to let him stay.
He would break if he knew. He would break, and it would be her fault.
"I am not strong enough to protect you from me..Kang.."she whispered.
The truth of it hit her like a wave. She could never let herself be with him, not like that. Not when her darkness could destroy him.
But he'll keep coming back, won't he? The thought flickered through her mind like a spark, igniting the flames of something she couldn't extinguish. He would keep coming back.
But the others had never mattered. Sanlang? He was different. And that made him dangerous.
She pressed her forehead to the cool glass. I will keep him safe. I'll push him away. Even if it breaks me.