Masqué, Season 2, Chapter 4 *FINALE*

Hello! Finally wrote everything, even though my final's tomorrow, I wanted to make sure this Season is finished before I travel later this week. When I'm back, I start my summer university course so I'm not quite sure when I'll start Masquerade's second season but don't worry, enshallah I'll do it as soon as I can, as I promised.

I hope you enjoy the finale! I was super evil. Keep your eyes open for hints before the ending (DO NOT SKIP TO THE ENDING, READ AND BE PATIENT, YOU WON'T REGRET IT!) I've hidden hints everywhere, just keep your eyes open!

This is dedicated to all of you, thank you so much for all the support and everything you've done for me. It's always a joy to write for such wonderful people! xo



-

“Hey, goumay! Warach medrisa! Besich noum, yalla 7beebty!” A voice screeched to Razan’s left ear, startling her. She quickly bolted out of bed, dazed and feeling light headed. The bright rays of sunlight pierced her amber shaded eyes. Her mother stood over her with a stressed expression on her face; Razan quickly concluded that even her own mother was late to work.

“Hff, okay okay,” Razan annoyingly replied, holding a palm to her head, rubbing over the painful headache.  Amal, dressed in her tucked in shirt and flowy peach skirt hurried out of Razan’s room to touch up on her make-up. Razan paused, seated in her fluffy bed, looking around her. She slowly took in the images of her Justin Bieber posters all over her walls, the ash white curtains and the light orange rug that felt soft and heavenly under her toes. She tried to recall what happened last night but she got blurry images from when she was in the kitchen before someone’s hand covered her face.

She couldn’t explain the snippets of images that clouded over her and the clock told her that she didn’t have much time to think about it. It was 6:45 am and she was supposed to be in school in fifteen minutes. She stood up from her bed, not even noticing the small sandwich next to her bedside table.

Razan shook her head to push those images away once she was in the shower, reassuring herself that it was just a simple dream, even when a suspicious taste that smelt so much like medicine lingered on her lips.

-

“Oh crap,” Amal hissed under her breath once she was in her car, parked outside the one floor building she worked in. She had taken a few days off after Jack’s death; not wanting to go back to where it all first started but she couldn’t avoid it too long. She had made up a false accusation that Jack quit and had left, since she was the manager, nobody questioned her. But before she could walk in, before the images from that bloody night could flash before her eyes, she had remembered that she forget her events portfolio back home. Amal was about to put the car in reverse, ready to drive back home but a familiar car parked behind her, the windows were tinted and she couldn’t see who was in the car. It blocked her way and she was trapped in the parking space, unable to drive back home.

Amal quickly left Saif’s car, she was using his whilst hers was still God knows where. And Saif was fast asleep, not needing his car; he offered it to his wife until hers was done being “repaired”, as Nawaf’s lies were being repeated in her head. He had said a bunch more, saying her car had minor scratches and needed a week or two to get it perfect again. Saif didn’t even ask why it needed two weeks, he was too worried about his own wife to care about the minor details of Nawaf’s lies.

Amal left Saif’s car to annoyingly tell off the dude who parked behind her.

“Hello? Law sema7t?” Amal knocked on the window, she saw nothing behind the windows, it was 100% tinted black. Amal recalled that having windows that tinted were against the law; she got even more annoyed after remembering this.

The window slid down and had unmasked the face of a stranger. His coffee coloured eyes stared into Amal’s, his slightly greying hair was pushed back with what looked like was his own fingers instead of a comb. He had a 4 o’clock shadow over his face, his slight beard fitting his grumpy looking face.

“Yeah?” He said, sounding bored. He had a heavy British accent but he looked very much Arabian, in his deshdasha. (deshdasha: a formal clothing for Arabian men, it’s similar to a long white dress but it’s crisp, polished and not flowy at all. It’s traditional and respectable.)

“You’re parked right behind my car, I can’t leave this way. Can you drive properly and find an actual parking space instead of blocking other people’s cars?” Amal obviously stated, her eyes as sharp as razor blades, giving the man a dirty look. Her voice was snide and she wasn’t afraid to hide it.

“That’s not a nice way to talk to your new partner,” The man bickered, a sarcastic smile on his lips.

“W-what?” Amal was taken aback by his answer. She questioned if it was her hallucinating because of the fire hot sun stabbing her in the back.

“Your partner, I’m Jack’s replacement?” He cocked an eyebrow, acting shocked that Amal, of all people, wouldn’t know that.

“I didn’t hire a new replacement, what the heck are you on about? W al7een enta 3arabe wela British, wode afham?” Amal ignored that this man was about five years older than her, he was a man, he was supposedly her partner, a stranger and shall I repeat, a man? So she would be forced to talk to him in a respectable manner. She ignored all of these statements of how baffled she was and continued being rude to his face. First he blocks her parking space, second he speaks in an idiotic accent that doesn’t sound like the original posh British accent and he’s freaking wearing a deshdasha, acting like he’s the king of England.

Yes, Amal was pissed.

“Ana Kuwaiti, shfeech em3a9ba?” His accent was washed away with an original slang of Kuwaiti. Amal felt more comfortable speaking to him in their country’s language than the fake English accent. He looked quite amused that he was pissing Amal off so easily.

“Al7een law seme7t, wakher 3an sayarty 3shan agder ared el bait. W thane shay, I never hired any new employee to work with me,” Amal said her last English words in a fake English accent that the man spoke in a few minutes ago, she imitated his fake posture and accent, she expected him to grow uneasy or angry but instead, he flashed his bleached white teeth and laughed. His smile made his face more handsome to look at but Amal quickly dismissed that horrid idea, reminding herself of how overly bleached his teeth looked.

“Enshallah, arid bacher when you’re calm,” he promised but Amal ignored him, walking off back to her husband’s car, waiting for the man to drive his car to another vacant space, away from the space that trapped Amal in her parking space.

“A-hole,” Amal hissed under her breath and drove off, not looking back at the man who stayed in his spot, staring at Amal in amusement.

-

“Ugh, Lexy, where’s my work book?!” Amal shouted to the empty house once she was inside, rummaging through everything to look for it. The housekeeper, petite and gentle faced, hurried out of the kitchen to help Amal.

“I really don’t know Madame, I haven’t seen it,” Lexy genuinely answered, her crinkled eyes looking into Amal’s younger ones.

“Are the kids in school?” Amal gave up after an hour of searching with Lexy, both of them sat on the couch, tired, their arms aching.

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Is Saif home?” Amal whispered, afraid to wake her husband. She knew he felt a bit sick and he stayed back home but she wanted to check on him once again. She was too afraid to walk into the bedroom and to wake him up, knowing that Saif was such a light sleeper. He would wake up if he heard the water dripping in the bathroom downstairs, next to the living room. He was that much of a light sleeper.

“No, Sir left after you left.” Lexy answered, getting up from the couch to go back to her work but Amal stopped her by placing a hand over her arm.

“Wait Lexy, where did he go? Work?” Amal asked, confused.

“Yeah, I think so,” Lexy shrugged.

“Was he wearing his deshdasha?”

“No, he usually ask me to iron it before he wear it but I see him he wear the jeans.”

“Oh, uhm okay. Maybe he went to the doctor’s.”

“Maybe, Madame you want anything before I go to work?”

“No no, thank you for helping me.”

“No problem.”

Amal was trying to remember where she last placed her portofolio, she couldn’t go to work with it, it was like a singer going off to her concert without her band. She needed it desperately, everything was in there, all of the events, the dates and the names along with the phone numbers she needed.

When it finally hit her.

It was in her old car.

The blood infested, body-murdering car.

-

“Ugh Nawaf, pick up, pick up.” Amal kept on whispering to herself, she was parked right outside Nawaf’s two-floored house where he lived with Bibi. The house was painted in clear white, there were numerous windows that would give you a peak of the lavishly furnished rooms and the garden was small but it was filled with roses and lilies that Bibi had purchased. They were fake but looked very real, it was impossible to keep such flowers alive through all four seasons in the Middle East.

Amal couldn’t find Bibi’s Porsche parked anywhere but Nawaf’s Range Rover was parked right outside, so he was definitely in the house.

But he wouldn’t answer his mobile.

Amal needed that portfolio and the only way she would get it was to get her car back. She left her car to snoop about; she ringed the gold shaded doorbell that had a speaker right besides it, a few times. No one answered, not even the housekeeper who worked for Nawaf and Bibi. She peeked into the windows and saw a shadow pass by. She was about to assume that someone was really inside before she noticed that it was just the sun playing tricks with her eyes.

Amal soon gave up and left the house, thinking she would call or come by Nawaf’s later to ask about her car. It didn’t hurt to miss another day at work, it wasn’t like she was that excited to go back to that place.

Before she took the turn, to leave the neighborhood, she caught the site of Nawaf’s and Bibi’s house. It was at the back of the house, she caught another car parked behind it with tinted windows that she hadn’t noticed before.

Amal was driving too quickly to get a good look at the car and she quickly dismissed any ideas that popped into her head.

“Probably a friend of Nawaf’s or Bibi’s, or just a worker,” Amal had thought to herself before finally leaving the neighborhood to go back to the safety of her house.

-

“Yalla 3ad, bsr3a! Tara ehya betrid b3ad sa3a,” The first voice hissed.

A frail looking cat was wandering about before it heard the humanly voices, usually cats would be afraid of signs of such voices and would run off, but this one didn’t. It planted its bottom on the grass and stared right at the shapes of three men. One was tall, muscled and looked cool. The second was a familiar version of the first but he had a leaner body, a sweeter looking face and dark eyes. Whilst the third was the most different, he was a bit chubby, had bleached teeth that blinded the cat’s eyes for a second and had greying wavy hair.

“Shhh, Amal was here a few minutes ago, shdarak ma ra7 etrid?! Kanet betshoufk!” The second voice said in an angry tone.

“Shd3wa, zoujtk ra7at! W ma shafetny Saif, wakhert 3an el dareesha bs3ra,” the first voice replied.

“Kela menk, you parked the car outside, you should have parked it at the back like he did,” Saif replied in a stressed tone.

“Hey, sh9ar 3leik lema r7t 3ndeha?” The first voice asked the third man with very white teeth.

“Kanet em3a9ba Nawaf, you hired me to make sure she doesn’t get hurt but she seems like she doesn’t need it,” the third man shook his head in amusement.

“La2, abeek teshtighl wyaaha Ibrahim, khayfa 3leeha. If anyone touches her, you know what to do.” Saif’s eyes were steel hard.

“W ehya al7een ma shaket eb shay?” Ibrahim asked Nawaf and Saif, three men were in the garden and the cat was observing them intently. There was a huge bag zipped up lying besides them and the tinted car had the back doors open, ready to put the bag inside.

“La2, Nawaf made sure she wouldn’t tell anyone, 9a7 Nawaf? Bas el ghabe, he made Razan faint!” Saif looked back to his brother. Saif’s face looked worried.

“Ma tadre 3an shay,” Nawaf answered. “She doesn’t know that I took the body to you when she told me to go the police, she doesn’t know that you kept stabbing the body because of how angry you were, she doesn’t know anything. She thinks you don’t know what she did and she’ll keep on believing that.”

“W 3la fekra, if I didn’t push that fainting medicine into her mouth, she would have caught us with Jack’s body! Ma t3wert el bent, would you stop getting pissed at me about it? W enta el ghabe for making a sandwich for her, chithe ra7 et7s! Bas we laid her in bed, enshallah she won’t remember anything, she'll think it was a dream and that the sandwich was from Lexy or Amal for her breakfast,” Nawaf annoyingly continued on, his eyes staring into Saif’s, who were full of worry for his own daughter.

"7aram 3leik, kanet you3ana, y3ne ana obouha akeed ba7aty w etha betyou3 benty, I'll make her a sandwich! Ugh it was my fault we hid the body at my house first. W Amal can never know about this, never. If she knows, she’ll hate me; she’ll think I’m a murderer. Our fingerprints are all on the body, we have to get rid of it before Bibi’s back.” Saif sighed, his eyes dropping down to the grass beneath his leather Bottega Venetta shoes.

“Al7een shloun ma 7aset? Didn’t she say that she could say that she was just defending herself?” Ibrahim questioned on.

“Nawaf made her feel guilty, saying that they wouldn’t believe her. It’ll stop her from telling anybody and that way, I won’t get caught or arrested.” Saif explained. “I just couldn’t control myself, when I saw that a-hole’s body, that face of his, imagining his hands on my wife, I just had to get my share of killing him.”

“She doesn’t know that he was still alive?” Ibrahim asked, his finger tapping over his beard.

“La2, 3balha mat lema she stabbed him with her car keys. Maskeena, she was too afraid to really check, she never saw a dead body like that before, or a bloody one. Ashwa I hid the body with Saif at his house in the garage before we moved it to mine, we were waiting till we were all alone to dispose it.” Nawaf frowned.

“Al7een Ibrahim, you work with the police and you’ve known the family for such a long time, you won’t ever let anyone know of this, right?” Saif looked to Ibrahim, looking rather nervous and jittery.

“I owe you so much for what your family has done for me, akeed I’ll keep everything under control. La t7aty Saif, w murtk ma ra7 tadre sh9ar.”

“A7bha, w ra7 asawe ay shay 3shanha. Ay shay.” Saif repeated, his voice slow and low as he was looking at the bag that was shaped as a body, knowing that it looked so obvious that a dead body was held inside.

“Isn’t it creepy?” Nawaf suddenly asked, taking the men’s attention off of the body bag.

“Shnu?” Both men replied, looking to Nawaf.

“That cat keeps staring at us,” Nawaf pointed.

Three of the men stared back at the cat and it’s wide suspicious honey coloured eyes. It couldn’t understand a word they said but their eyes scared it too much, those dark deep eyes of theirs. It hurriedly scattered off to a bush, hiding. It heard the rumbling of the black tinted car and the whispers of their voices as they drove off, taking every last piece of evidence of the murder with them, destroying it.

-


Did you expect any of it? Or have a feeling that Saif, the innocent Saif, was behind the facade along with Nawaf?

Don't forget to leave a comment and tell me what you thought about this chapter 3shan etwansouny!

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Thank you so much. xx