The Nighttime Terror in the Minister's Villa
Night had imposed its will, heavy and suffocating, as if commanding all who loved to remain awake, carrying memories of the past—moments of sorrow and flashes of joy alike. Radhi, the minister's driver, sat behind the wheel of the official car, feeling the night breeze tease the leaves and soften the air inside the villa. The scent of roses planted along the interior corridor filled the air, lending a serene aura to the dark night.
Radhi—the Minister's Driver
A man in his late forties, his features as hard as stone, his dark skin aged by the long stretches of the relentless sun. His narrow eyes gleamed with a suspicious intelligence, as if he could see what was not meant to be seen. He possessed a photographic memory of everything he heard in
