Chapter 20, A Table For Two.

Omar and Ghazi were tasked with delivering the money directly to Abo Bilal, while Khalid worked behind the scenes to ensure their tracks were covered. The trio had meticulously planned the exchange to avoid any unwanted attention. They met Abo Bilal in an abandoned building, a location chosen for its seclusion and the near impossibility of being discovered. The dimly lit space was eerily quiet, save for the occasional creak of rusted metal and the distant sound of wind whistling through broken windows.

When Abo Bilal arrived, he greeted them with a nod of approval. "You've done well to complete the task this early," he said, his voice low and measured. He turned to Omar specifically, adding, "The next meeting will take place next week. Be ready." Omar acknowledged the instruction with a brief nod, his expression unreadable. The exchange was swift, and soon after, Omar and Ghazi left the building, each lost in their own thoughts.

On the way home, Omar dropped Ghazi off at his house. The drive was mostly silent, the weight of their actions hanging heavily in the air. By the time Omar arrived at his own home, it was late, as usual. Maram was waiting for him, her arms crossed and her expression a mix of frustration and concern.

"You're late again," Maram said, her voice tinged with worry. "I'm always alone, Omar. I worry about you all the time. Do you even realize that?"

Omar sighed, running a hand through his hair. "If you feel lonely, maybe you should think about getting married," he replied, his tone dismissive.

Maram's eyes narrowed. "You should say that to yourself. You're not married either, you know."

"I don't have time for that," Omar shot back, his voice firm. "I've got too much going on."

"Well, I'm busy too," Maram retorted. "I've got my new business to focus on. But that's not the point. You know why I don't want to get married, Omar. It's because I worry about you. You're always out there, doing who knows what, and I can't just move on with my life like nothing's wrong."

Omar's expression softened slightly, but his tone remained resolute. "I'm not a child anymore, Maram. You don't need to worry about me. You should focus on your own life. You deserve to be happy."

Maram shook her head, her frustration evident. "It's not that simple, Omar. You're my brother. I can't just stop caring."

Omar didn't respond immediately. Instead, he turned and headed toward his room, clearly exhausted. "Goodnight, Maram," he said quietly before closing the door behind him.

Maram stood in the hallway for a moment, her shoulders slumping as she sighed. She knew Omar was stubborn, but she also knew that her concerns were valid. As she turned off the lights and retreated to her own room, she couldn't shake the feeling that things were only going to get more complicated.

The next day at work, the atmosphere was tense, Khalid needed to talk to Omar, so they took a break and went outside to the parking lot, they got in Omar's car to discuss the events of the previous night. Khalid's usual calm demeanor was replaced by a visible unease, his eyes darting around to ensure no one was within earshot.

"We've got a problem," Khalid began, his voice low but urgent. "While you and Ghazi were delivering the money to Abo Bilal, I was guarding the warehouse like we planned. But something happened."

Omar's brow furrowed as he leaned in closer. "What do you mean? What happened?"

Khalid hesitated for a moment before continuing. "A police officer showed up around the area. He was searching for something—I don't know what. But he was too close for comfort. I had to distract him, make him chase me so he wouldn't get near the warehouse."

Omar's eyes widened slightly, but he remained composed. "Did he see you? Did he get your face or your bike number?"

Khalid shook his head quickly. "No, I made sure of that. I led him on a chase through the backstreets, and I lost him eventually. I kept my helmet on the whole time, and I covered my bike's license plate. He didn't see anything that could trace back to me."

Omar exhaled slowly, his mind racing. "That's good, but it's still too risky. If the police start poking around that area, they might find something. That warehouse isn't safe anymore."

"Exactly," Khalid agreed, his voice tense. "We need to inform Abo Bilal immediately. He needs to clean up the warehouse and abandon it before the police decide to open an investigation. If they do, it won't take long for them to connect the dots."

Omar nodded, his expression grim. "You're right. I'll contact him as soon as possible. We can't afford any mistakes now. Did anyone else see you? Any witnesses?"

"No," Khalid replied firmly. "The streets were empty, and I made sure no one was around when I led the cop away. But we can't take any chances. That warehouse has too much evidence—money, equipment, everything. If the police find it, we're done."

Omar clenched his jaw, his mind already working through the next steps. "Alright. I'll handle it. You stay low for now. Don't draw any attention to yourself. If the police are already suspicious, they might be watching the area more closely."

Khalid nodded, his shoulders relaxing slightly now that Omar was taking charge. "Understood. Let me know what Abo Bilal says. We need to move fast."

"I will," Omar assured him. "Just keep your head down and act normal. We'll get through this."

As Khalid got out of the car Omar pulled out his phone, his fingers hovering over the screen as he prepared to call Abo Bilal. The stakes had just gotten higher, and he knew that one wrong move could bring everything crashing down. The weight of the situation settled heavily on his shoulders, but he pushed the anxiety aside. There was no room for hesitation now.

_______

Abo Bilal moved quickly and methodically, knowing that time was of the essence. The warehouse, once a secure location for his operations, had become a liability. With the police sniffing around, he couldn't afford to leave anything to chance. He gathered his most trusted men and orchestrated a meticulous plan to clean out the warehouse and relocate everything to a safer location—his own home.

The men arrived early in the morning, dressed in uniforms that made them look like employees of a reputable moving company. They carried stacks of furniture boxes, their faces neutral and professional, giving no hint of the true nature of their task. Abo Bilal supervised the operation with a calm authority, his sharp eyes missing nothing as his men carefully packed away the contents of the warehouse into the boxes. Money, documents, and equipment were all concealed within, disguised as pieces of high-end furniture.

As the men worked, Abo Bilal's wife, unaware of the true nature of the activity, wandered into the living room, her curiosity piqued by the commotion. "What's going on, Bilal?" she asked, her voice tinged with confusion as she watched the men carry boxes into the house. "Why are there so many people here?"

Abo Bilal turned to her with a warm smile, his demeanor calm and reassuring. "It's nothing to worry about, habibti," he said smoothly. "I've ordered some new furniture for the house. You know how I've been wanting to redecorate. I thought it was time to surprise you with something special."

His wife raised an eyebrow, still skeptical. "New furniture? But why so much? And why didn't you tell me about this earlier?"

Abo Bilal chuckled softly, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I wanted it to be a surprise. I know how much you love quality pieces, so I took the liberty of choosing everything myself. But," he added, his tone shifting to one of slight concern, "the house is going to be a mess for a few days while we get everything in place. I was thinking it might be better if you stayed with your mother for a little while. That way, you won't have to deal with all the noise and dust."

His wife frowned, crossing her arms. "You want me to leave? Why can't I just stay and help? I'd like to see what you've picked out."

Abo Bilal shook his head, his expression softening. "I want this to be perfect for you. Let me handle everything. I'll make sure it's all set up just the way you like it. Besides, you've been so busy lately—this will give you a chance to relax and spend some time with your mother. When you come back, it'll be like walking into a brand-new home."

She hesitated, still unsure, but the sincerity in his voice eventually won her over. "Alright," she said with a sigh. "But don't take too long. I want to see what you've done."

"I promise," Abo Bilal replied, kissing her forehead. "It'll be worth the wait."

Once his wife had packed a small bag and left for her mother's house, Abo Bilal's demeanor shifted. The warmth in his eyes was replaced by a steely determination as he turned to his men. "Keep it moving," he ordered, his voice firm. "We don't have much time. Everything needs to be out of the warehouse by tonight."

The men worked tirelessly, loading the boxes into trucks and transporting them to Abo Bilal's home. Each box was carefully labeled and stacked in a way that would avoid suspicion if anyone happened to glance inside. By the time the sun set, the warehouse was empty, and Abo Bilal's house was filled with neatly arranged boxes, each one hiding the secrets of his operation.

As he stood in the middle of the room, surveying the work, one of his men approached him. "It's done," the man said. "The warehouse is clean. No trace of anything."

Abo Bilal nodded, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. "Good. Now we wait. Once things calm down, we'll find a new location. Until then, this will have to do."

The men dispersed, leaving Abo Bilal alone in the quiet house. He glanced at the stacks of boxes, his mind already racing with plans for the next steps. For now, the immediate threat had been neutralized, but he knew better than to let his guard down. In his line of work, complacency was the greatest danger of all.

Abo Bilal wasted no time in informing Omar about the cleanup of the warehouse. He texted him using telegram "The warehouse is clean," Abo Bilal said. "We've moved everything to a secure location. Make sure you come early to the meeting tomorrow. We have a lot to discuss."

Omar nodded, even though Abo Bilal couldn't see him. "Understood. I'll be there," he replied. With the immediate danger averted, Omar felt a rare sense of relief. For the first time in weeks, he decided to go home early, determined to spend some quality time with his sister, Maram.

When he arrived home, Maram was surprised to see him so early. "You're home before midnight? Did the world end or something?" she teased, though her eyes sparkled with genuine happiness.

Omar chuckled, shaking his head. "No, the world's still spinning. But I thought it was time to do something nice for you. I've reserved a table at that luxurious restaurant you've been talking about. Let's go out tonight."

Maram's eyes widened in surprise. "A restaurant? What's the occasion? Did you win the lottery or something?"

Omar smiled, his tone playful. "Can't I just do something nice for my sister without there being an occasion? Consider it a surprise."

Maram hesitated for a moment, then grinned. "Alright, I'll take it. But if this is your way of apologizing for coming home late all the time, it's not going to work."

Omar laughed, grabbing his keys. "Noted. Now, let's go before they give our table away."

The restaurant was as elegant as Maram had imagined, with soft lighting, live music, and a menu that made her eyes light up. As they enjoyed their meal, Maram couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and gratitude. "This is really nice, Omar," she said, her voice softening. "Thank you."

Omar looked at her, his expression serious for a moment. "You're the most important person in the world to me, Maram. I want you to be happy and well. You've done so much for me, and I don't say it enough, but I'm grateful for you."

Maram's smile faltered slightly, and she tilted her head, studying him. "I don't like that tone. What's going on, Omar? You're being unusually sentimental."

Omar took a deep breath, deciding to broach the topic he'd been planning to bring up. "I've arranged something for you," he began carefully. "A marriage meeting. With a good man I know. He's an HR at our company, and he's respectful, kind, and well-mannered. I think you'd like him."

Maram's eyes widened in shock, and she set her fork down. "A marriage meeting? Omar, no. I don't believe in arranged marriages. That's not for me."

Omar held up a hand, trying to calm her. "I know it's not what you're used to, but it's the traditional way, especially for people like us who… well, let's be honest, we don't exactly have the best social skills when it comes to the opposite gender."

Maram crossed her arms, her expression defiant. "Omar. I have self-esteem, I'm not out there chasing after men because I don't need to. I'm fine on my own."

Omar nodded, his voice gentle but firm. "I know, and I'm proud of you for that. But you've spent so much of your life worrying about me, taking care of me. You've done more than enough. I just want you to give yourself a chance. This man… he's a good person. I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't think he was worth your time."

Maram sighed, her resistance wavering. She looked down at her plate, her mind racing. "I don't know, Omar… It feels so… forced."

"It doesn't have to be," Omar reassured her. "Just meet him. If you don't like him, that's fine. But at least give it a chance. For me?"

Maram looked up at him, her brother's earnest expression melting her defenses. Finally, she sighed in resignation. "Fine. I'll meet him. But if it's awkward, I'm blaming you."

Omar grinned, relief washing over him. "Deal. And who knows? Maybe you'll thank me later."

Maram rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips. "Don't push your luck, little brother."

As they finished their meal, the atmosphere between them was lighter, filled with the warmth of sibling love and understanding. For the first time in a long while, Maram felt a glimmer of hope for the future—and Omar felt a sense of fulfillment, knowing he was doing something to make his sister's life a little brighter.