RUSHING through the crowded lanes of Cairo, the weather felt calm—strangely calm compared to the scene about to unfold.
My heart pounded in my chest, not from fear, but from sheer excitement—the kind that makes your veins feel like they might burst and your mind scream with anticipation.
My face, however, remained perfectly stoic.
What I was about to witness was nothing short of the death of a prominent CEO.
And my role?
To uncover it for the audience.
My first task since landing this job.
I twisted a strand of my hair around my finger as we approached the scene. Through the window, I caught glimpses of police cars scattered around a grand building standing proudly against the Nile. An ambulance was parked nearby.
They were carrying a body.
Still warm.
I exhaled slowly, wrapping my arms around myself as I braced for what was coming. My eyes betrayed me, sparkling with excitement despite the knot tightening in my chest.
Just as I reached for the door handle, it swung open abruptly.
A rough voice—one I knew far too well—snapped at me.
"Perhaps I wasn't clear about what being on time means. Do you know how many channels would kill for this opportunity? And somehow, our director managed to secure it."
He scanned me from head to toe, making sure my press tag was visible before stepping aside. His voice softened slightly, like an older brother reluctantly giving advice.
"You better not mess this up. This is your debut in journalism. And you'll be covering a case supervised by Detective Adel. He was close to the victim."
I offered a small smile before stepping out.
Cold air rushed toward me, carrying the noise of the restless street. I straightened my jacket and walked toward Steve, my assistant.
"Who exactly is this Adel?" I asked cautiously. "And who decided the case is already closed?"
"Well, not me," he replied dryly. "And who are you to call the great Detective Adel 'this Adel'?"
He sounded almost offended.
"Seriously, which rock have you been living under? He's half French, half Egyptian. Studied in France—one of the most prestigious institutions. The heart of law and justice."
His voice faded into the background.
Because now… I was looking at something real.
Fresh blood soaked into the concrete.
A body lay motionless.
Someone who had been alive minutes ago… was now gone.
A heavy weight settled in my chest.
It wasn't grief.
Not exactly.
Something deeper.
The quiet mourning of abandoned hopes.
The kind you stop revisiting because each time you do, the darkness grows heavier.
My patience snapped.
"It's not like he solved world hunger," I said sharply. "He's just a detective, Steve."
A pause.
"Just a name—Adel."
My throat tightened. I waited for Steve's sarcastic reply.
Silence.
I looked up.
His face had gone pale.
That was when I felt it—a presence behind me.
A voice followed.
Rough. Amused. Effortlessly commanding.
"I suppose that 'just a guy named Adel' would be me, wouldn't it?"
I froze.
Slowly, I turned.
"Your guess is correct, Mr. Adel," I said, my voice steady despite everything. "And what about it?"
"So…"
His eyes drifted to my press tag.
"Ms. Lillian, I assume."
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
"What an honor it is to meet someone with such a sharp tongue."
Before I could respond, Steve cut in nervously.
"She's just a rookie, Mr. Adel. Please ignore her. We don't want to disturb your work."
Adel didn't even look at him.
"Actually," he said calmly, eyes still on me, "it's not every day you meet someone like her. I rather admire that. Keep it up, rookie."
"Stop calling me rookie," I snapped. "It's not an insult."
"Then why," he asked smoothly, "are you treating it like one?"
And just like that—he dismissed me.
Not with words.
But with attention.
His gaze shifted to the shattered glass window of the building, as if I had already become irrelevant.
"I suppose we should get to work," he said.
Steve pulled me aside immediately.
"Do you have a death wish?" he whispered harshly. "You get one chance to witness a detective like him in action—so how about you control that temper?"
I bit my lip and nodded, following Steve to my spot. Behind me, the glass tower gleamed, proud and unshaken, its first floor reflecting the exact place where the body had fallen.
Adel stood near it—methodical, composed—working as police officers moved around him. Sirens buzzed quietly in the background, punctuating the tension without stealing the scene.
I took a deep breath, waiting for Steve's signal. He lingered behind the cameraman, his eyes sharp, calculating."Do you have a death wish?" he whispered harshly. "You get one chance to witness a detective like him in action—so how about you control that temper?"
I bit my lip and nodded, following Steve to my spot. Behind me, the glass tower gleamed, proud and unshaken, its first floor reflecting the exact place where the body had fallen.
Adel stood near it—methodical, composed—working as police officers moved around him. Sirens buzzed quietly in the background, punctuating the tension without stealing the scene.
I took a deep breath, waiting for Steve's signal. He lingered behind the cameraman, his eyes sharp, calculating.