unknown fate

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Twenty years had passed since Abdelrahman’s death. Imam was now forty years old, and Jad had grown older, burdened with memories and unfinished dreams.

Scene One

Imam sat in a shady apartment—thick smoke of hashish filling the room, bottles of alcohol scattered across the table. Women danced around him as he swayed drunkenly among them, lost in intoxication and ruin.

Hours later, he staggered outside, slid into his luxurious car, and drove through the empty night streets until he reached his villa. He pushed open the door, tossed his coat onto the couch, then climbed the stairs with heavy steps, collapsing onto his bed, drunk and senseless, until deep sleep claimed him.

Scene Two

The next morning, Jad lay on his large bed, half-closed eyes staring into the ceiling, murmuring to himself with a tired voice full of tenderness:

— God never blessed me with children… but He gave me Imam instead. I love him as if he were my own son—maybe even more. Perhaps if I had a son of my own, I wouldn’t have loved him the way I love Imam. He will inherit everything after I’m gone… and he’ll protect his sisters—Johar, Tethkar, and the seven girls. True, I’ve left them plenty of money… but money without a strong back to lean on is worthless.

He paused for a moment, then continued, as if justifying himself:

— Yes, the money comes from d**g dealing… but it isn’t haram. It’s business, just like any other. I inherited it from my father—God rest his soul—and passed it on to you, Imam. One day you’ll pass it on to your children, and they to theirs. That’s the way life goes. But now… I must marry you before I die. Maybe I’ll see a grandchild before my time comes. The only question is… will you listen to me and do what I say? Or will you have a different opinion? No. I won’t allow it. The plan I made will happen. You’ll marry her… whether you like it or not.

Jad slowly pushed himself up, rose from the bed leaning on his cane, and descended to the villa’s ground floor.

Imam sat in the living room, blowing smoke from his cigarette into the air.

Jad, with a stern voice, said:

— Come with me to the office, Imam.

Imam stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and replied:

— Alright, Haj.

He followed Jad into the office. The old man sat behind his wide desk, the room heavy with the scent of aged wood and old papers… as though it was about to hold yet another secret

Jad sat behind his wide desk, his voice carrying the weight of authority:

— Sit down, Imam… How’s business?

Imam settled into the chair opposite him, exhaling smoke from his cigarette with confidence:

— Everything’s perfect, Hajj… Business is running smooth, you know Imam.

Jad gave a faint smile, then said:

— That’s why… I’ve got a gift for you.

Imam raised his eyebrows mockingly:

— A gift? What kind of gift, Hajj?

Jad, locking eyes with him:

— You need to get married, Imam… Enough playing around.

Imam burst out laughing:

— Married?! Hahaha… Hajj, you know your boy is living the good life, thank God I’m not missing a thing… Just admit you already picked out a bride for me behind my back.

Jad’s face grew stern, his voice turning sharp:

— Listen carefully… Those girls you spend nights with, they’re nothing but whims, passing desires. They’ve got nothing to do with the future I’ve planned for you.

Imam waved dismissively:

— Spare me the lecture, Hajj… I’m comfortable like this. We’ll talk about it later… What time is it anyway? Oh right, I’ve got a date with a whim. Later, Hajj.

He stood, heading for the office door. But Jad suddenly rose, his voice thundering like a storm:

— Come back here… You think you’ve outgrown me?! No matter how old you get, Imam, you’ll never be bigger than me. When I speak, you stop and listen.

Imam turned coldly:

— What do you expect, Hajj? You’re talking about marriage and nonsense… Guys like us, marriage isn’t for us. Or did you forget who I am in the market now?

Anger burned in Jad’s eyes, but his words came measured:

— I didn’t forget, Imam… I know you’re the biggest hash dealer in all of Egypt… but after me. I’m still alive, and when I speak, my word is law… Or what? You think I’ve gone senile?

Imam paused, then challenged him:

— Why are you so insistent on me getting married, Hajj?

Jad stepped forward, slowly, deliberately:

— First, you need to know who… then you’ll understand why I insist. You’re going to marry Asrar… my daughter.

Imam’s eyes widened in shock:

— Asrar?! My sister?! No, now you’ve truly lost your mind, Hajj!

Jad couldn’t contain himself; he stormed toward Imam and struck him hard across the face with his fist. Imam staggered back, reeling.

Jad roared:

— Asrar is not your sister… and you’ll follow my orders whether you like it or not!

Imam stormed out of the office, left the villa, and drove off in anger. Hours later, he was slouched in one of the shady houses, smoking hash and drowning in the arms of prostitutes.

By nightfall, he returned to the villa, staggering as he walked. Parking his car at the gate, he entered and noticed the office light still on. He knocked softly, then pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Jad was seated behind his desk, a hash cigarette between his fingers, the smoke curling thickly in the air.

Imam spoke firmly:

— I’ve decided… I’ll marry Asrar, Haj.

A satisfied smile spread across Jad’s face as he nodded:

— I knew you’d listen to me… I knew you’d never let me down. Sit down, Imam, I have something else to tell you.

Imam lowered himself into the chair opposite him. Jad’s tone grew heavier, more serious:

— Listen, Imam. I don’t have much time left. I’ve decided to put everything I own in your name. Tazkar and Jawaher can’t stand each other, and when I die, they’ll split apart and drag the family down with them. But I want the House of Jad to remain strong, and the family name to stay high even after I’m gone.

He sighed deeply, his words weighted with years of struggle:

— You know how hard I worked to get here… and I raised you with my own hands. I trust you’ll never fail your sisters. You’ll stand by them, take my place when I’m gone.

Jad opened a drawer, pulled out a thick contract, and slid it across the desk to Imam:

— Here… this is the deed. Everything I own is now in your name. And your wedding to Asrar… will be tomorrow.