**Present time**
'What did he just say?' Geb thought, struggling to subdue his anger toward Morsi Mubarak. Who did this man think he was, sitting in the same room with him and asking his consort—my consort—to be his first lady? 'Has he gone mad?'
Nessy couldn't believe her ears. Did Morsi really just ask her to be his first lady? "Morsi," she began, carefully choosing her words so as not to lose control and risk her dignity before the man in front of her. "I'm sorry, but I don't understand. You're the president's son, not the president himself. How do you mean that I should be your first lady?" She ended with a puzzled look.
Morsi remained calm, as though refusing to be provoked. Nessy sensed this and softened her tone. "Don't get me wrong—I just want to understand what you mean because I'm lost here." Her voice was more polite now.
Geb fought hard to suppress his fury. He shot death glares at Morsi, who didn't seem to notice his presence at all.
Morsi took a breath and finally spoke. "I am running for the elections after my father's tenure ends next year. And I am very confident of my victory. I present this offer to you because I see no one else fit to stand by my side—not that I am entirely satisfied with you, but you will do just fine. So, my dear, prepare yourself. Wedding preparations will begin this December, and the wedding will take place that same month." His voice was filled with authority and determination.
Geb felt the urge to suck the life out of Morsi. Who exactly did this man think he was, boldly claiming his beloved consort? Yet, he blamed himself more than Morsi for sitting there silently. Just as he was about to act, Nessy's voice stopped him.
"What if I choose to disagree with your decision? I mean, I need to think this through. I believe I have a say in this as well." Nessy fought to remain calm.
"There's nothing to think about," Morsi said, his tone sharp. "And as I said, you should count yourself lucky I chose you. I'm sure you know how many Egyptian female celebrities and high-class ladies would kill for this chance. So don't screw it up, Nessy Saadid!" His brown eyes gave her a deadly glare.
Geb remained still—not because he wasn't furious, but because he wanted to see Nessy's reaction and how she would handle the situation. He wanted to see all of her, including her anger and frustration. He smiled unconsciously to himself at the thought.
Nessy, frustrated and angry all along, noticed his strange smile and shot him a death stare, puzzled by what was so amusing.
Morsi followed her gaze and saw the man sitting calmly in the armchair opposite Nessy's previous seat. He studied Geb briefly before averting his eyes, judging him unimportant.
Nessy composed herself and spoke again. "I don't know what you think of me, Mr. Morsi, but one thing is certain: I am human and have rights of my own. You can't just impose something on me against my will. This is marriage, for crying out loud—a lifelong commitment! I need to think it through." She finished with a slight yell, which seemed only to fuel Morsi's anger.
"Miss Saadid, may I remind you whom you're speaking to?" He stood and paced twice before turning back, his voice proud and firm. "I am Morsi Mubarak, only son of President Habeeb Mubarak, the next president of this country—and a lord as well. Just imagine how far I can take Mitch Saadid's company beyond Egypt's borders—more than your late father ever dreamed or achieved."
At the mention of her dead father, Nessy felt a stab of pain in her heart. She clenched her fists and blinked rapidly to hold back tears. Geb felt her pain too—not just because he could read her thoughts but because of the mind duplication. Though he couldn't see her face, he knew she was struggling to hide her sorrow. He wanted to intervene immediately but was cut off by Morsi, who had more to say.
"I could make your company the most dominant in all of Africa. So spare me the 'think it through' drama and tell me where you'd like to have our honeymoon. I can't wait to taste your innocence." His smile was cruel.
"H… Ho… How did you know I was innocent?" Nessy managed to ask, still shocked. She didn't recall telling him; in fact, they had never had a deep discussion. How could he know?
Geb was shocked too. He searched Nessy's memories but found no hint that she had revealed this. He tried to read Morsi's mind for clues, but something strange happened—he couldn't. He tried again, failing each time.
'What is this? Why can't I read him?' Geb puzzled inwardly. He couldn't understand. When Morsi first entered, Geb felt a strange sensation—as if Morsi's identity was familiar. He'd assumed it was a side effect of the duplicated mind, since Nessy knew Morsi, he might seem familiar too.
But as Morsi spoke, Geb sensed an overwhelming aura. He wondered where it came from—maybe from his pride as the president's son. But now Geb knew there was more. He could read gods, and the only beings he couldn't read were creatures of darkness—rivals of the gods. This man unsettled him deeply.
'Who could he be?' Geb wondered.
"Oh, my dear, you have no idea who I am," Morsi said with a smirk. "There is nothing about you I don't already know. So, if I were you, I'd act smart and fast—take this opportunity while it's still on a golden platter."
Nessy was terrified to her core—subdued and intimidated. Who was this man? Morsi Mubarak was far more than just the president's son. She stared into his brown eyes and found a horror she didn't want to understand.
Geb sensed something was wrong but couldn't pinpoint it. Without hesitation, he stood and moved toward them. The tension in the room thickened. He studied Morsi's dangerous aura, then looked at Nessy—terrified, subdued, on the verge of collapse.
He immediately broke her trance with his mind manipulation, giving her strength and boldness to speak again.
"I've heard you, Morsi. You may now take your leave." Nessy's voice was steady, though she didn't know where the courage came from. She looked up at Morsi, whose eyes silently asked the same question. He said nothing, merely nodded and exited.
Once he left, Nessy began to breathe rapidly, feeling weak and lifeless. Before she knew it, strong arms enveloped her from behind. The owner whispered softly into her hair, "It's okay. I'm here. I won't let anyone hurt you. You're mine and no one else's."
Too weak to respond, she welcomed the darkness…