the gazelle state

Chapter 13: The Silent Struggle

Haitham stood frozen, the paper in his hand trembling slightly. It wasn’t just words on a page; it was a formal declaration of a different kind of war. He flung the document onto his desk in a fit of rage and slammed his hand against the antique wood, the thud shattering the early morning silence of the office.

​"Your heart?" he muttered bitterly, his voice raspy from the aftereffects of a night drowned in alcohol and hollow euphoria.

​He stormed out of his office, ignoring the stunned gazes of his employees. His appearance was ominous—his shirt disheveled, his eyes burning with suppressed fury. He headed straight for the secretarial desk and barked an order with sharp, biting intensity:

​"I want every entry and exit log from the bar last night. And I want to identify the person who owns that perfume... now!"

​He strode toward the large window overlooking the city, scanning the pedestrians below as if searching for Ghazal’s face among the sea of strangers. The ground felt like it was shifting beneath his feet; the power he once deemed his impenetrable shield now felt fragile against this enigma called Ghazal.

​The year’s most critical meeting with an international investor was on the verge of collapse; the project manager had fainted minutes earlier. In a moment of sheer desperation, Haitham had no choice but to turn to Raghad, who stood in the corner as if watching a movie.

​"You! Fix this. Give the presentation, now!" Haitham commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

​Raghad stepped onto the podium with a chilling, composed grace. She began to speak with such eloquence and tact that the entire room fell into a deathly silence. She wasn't just an employee; she possessed the charisma and poise found only among the elite. As the meeting concluded, the investor approached her, his face alight with astonishment, and shook her hand warmly:

​"Miss Raghad! I had no idea the Noah family had decided to send one of their own to represent us here. How is your grandmother? I still remember the day you celebrated the golden jubilee of the Noah corporations!"

​Haitham froze. The echo of "the Noah family" resonated in his ears like a ticking bomb. He looked at Raghad, who didn't deny it; instead, she offered a faint, dignified smile of an heiress.

​In that instant, the truth crystallized in Haitham’s mind: she had been playing him, luring him in, getting close only to extract his company’s secrets and destroy it for the sake of her family’s empire. His rage flared, his face turning into a mask of burning ice. He burst into her office after the meeting and threw her files at her, his voice shaking the very walls of the building:

​"Get out! You're fired! I don't want to see your face in my company, and I want nothing to do with the Noah family ever again!"

​Raghad left without a word, casting a calm, lingering look that only stoked Haitham’s fury further.

​In Haitham's Office

​Hours dragged on like centuries. Haitham sat in his darkened office, unable to see anything but the look of devastation on Raghad’s face the moment he fired her. He no longer cared about the company, his profits, or even the pride that had been shattered. He held the pen she had left behind, turning it over in his fingers, trying to inhale her scent. Her voice echoed in his head, followed by his own shout: "Get out!" He wished he could tear apart that moment, retrieve his words. His heart was locked in a bitter conflict: between his mind, which reminded him she was a "Noah," and his heart, which was beginning to realize she had been fleeing a reality beyond his comprehension.

​Meanwhile, Raghad sat in her room, trying to piece her life back together. The shock from Haitham was profound; despite his anger, she had believed she found a different depth in his eyes. But when she saw him discard her files with such cruelty, she realized the bitter truth: she had never been more than a "number" in his records, another victim on the list of those ruled by the men who dominated her world.

​Over the next two days, Raghad attempted to reclaim her professional life, submitting job applications, but rejection followed her like a shadow.

​At "Al-Ufuq" Company, she stood before the hiring manager. After scrutinizing her papers, he looked at her coldly and said, "Miss Raghad, your resume is devoid of any real practical experience in this field. We find nothing to qualify you for this position. We are looking for proven talent, and you possess none. Application rejected."

​That evening, having gathered her courage, she went to "Heavy Industries." She waited for hours, and when her turn came, the manager didn't even look up from his papers: "We apologize, but your qualifications do not align with our technical requirements. Frankly, we don't believe you have the skills required for this level of work. Come back when you have stronger credentials."

​Raghad stepped out into the street as the rain poured down. She stood under an awning, tasting the bitterness of failure—not because she lacked skill, but because the life stolen from her had left her no chance to build a "resume" like everyone else.

​At that moment, Majeed entered Haitham’s office, panting slightly, clutching a file. He placed it before Haitham and spoke in a tense, low voice:

​"Sir, I know you fired her, but... during the time we spent investigating, I watched Raghad closely. I never felt she was the type to plot anyone’s downfall. I continued searching the protected records of the Noah family, and I found something... something completely irrational that will change your perspective entirely."

​Haitham looked at the file with desperate anticipation, his heart hammering against his ribs:

​"What did you find, Majeed?"

​Majeed replied, flipping through the pages:

​"There are time gaps in her life history, as if she were living two lives simultaneously. Not only that, I found evidence that she was performing complex administrative and financial tasks for Noah subsidiaries in secret, using aliases, only to be stripped of those roles as soon as her brilliance became apparent. She isn't unqualified, sir... she is being 'sabotaged' deliberately!"

​Haitham’s features hardened. He realized then that the Noah family hadn't just erased her past; they were dismantling her future before it could even begin.

​Haitham stared at the file, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the paper. These weren't just "gaps" in her life; it was a strategy to humiliate her.

​Majeed continued, his voice heavy with sorrow:

​"Sir, it is worse than we expected. I checked the bank records and the Noah family’s holdings. Raghad is the sole, legal heir to that entire massive empire. Yet... she doesn't own a single credit card in her name, not even a simple personal allowance. In the palace, she is treated as a person without agency, as if she were nothing more than a nameless servant in her own home!"

​Majeed sighed deeply and added, his voice filled with a mixture of respect and pain:

​"Sir, there is more. I tracked her movements over the last few years precisely. She didn't live in the palace as an heiress; she was cast out to work the most menial jobs to support herself. She took positions in cleaning and organization at cheap restaurants, worked as a waitress, and at times, performed manual labor in small shops. She would return to the palace at night only to be denied the most basic rights, as if her family were forcing her to endure the humiliation of poverty, a fate unfit for a 'daughter of Noah'."

​A suffocating silence filled the office, broken only by Haitham’s ragged breathing. The girl who had stood before him in the office, with her tidy clothes and high confidence, had actually been carrying the weight of years of humiliation and grueling labor that had nothing to do with her world.

​"So, she wasn't looking for power in my company..." Haitham said in a raspy voice, dripping with regret, "She was looking for salvation... for a place where she could be human, not just a ghost of an heiress without a will."

​Haitham rose from behind his desk and walked to the window. His features were firm and harsh—not toward Raghad, but toward the injustice inflicted upon her.

​"They say the Noah family lives by principles and traditions, but what I see now is nothing but tyranny wrapped in silk." He turned to Majeed, his voice sharp:

​"I thought she was a 'game' played by her family to bring down my company, but the truth is far uglier. They aren't trying to take me down, Majeed. They are killing Raghad, slowly. They made me a part of this oppression when I fired her, thinking she had all the power and wealth, while she was suffering in abject poverty in silence!"