Zara couldn't take her eyes off the woman beside Rami.
She looked so much like the woman she'd seen in the old articles about Ameer's past fiancée—Leena Bakare. The same high cheekbones. The same long black hair. The same intense, quiet beauty.
But Leena had died in a car accident two years ago.
Hadn't she?
"Ameer," Zara whispered, not looking at him. "Who is that woman standing with your cousin?"
He followed her gaze and froze. His grip on her arm tightened just slightly.
"That's none of your concern," he said coldly, and started walking again.
Zara jerked her arm away, but he leaned in, whispering through gritted teeth. "Do not create a scene."
"Too late," she replied, faking a smile for the cameras as they passed.
The crowd parted as they entered the ballroom. It was as if everyone already knew who they were—Zara, the mysterious new wife, and Ameer, the untouchable billionaire.
But all she could think about was the woman who looked like a ghost.
Was this another secret Ameer was hiding? Or was she imagining things?
---
Later in the evening, after toasts and speeches, Zara slipped away. She found Rami by the wine bar, spinning a glass between his fingers.
"You saw her, didn't you?" he said before she even opened her mouth.
Zara nodded. "Who is she?"
He chuckled. "You really think I'm going to give you answers for free?"
"You said last night that Ameer's hiding something. Prove it."
Rami's smile faded. "Let's just say… Leena's death wasn't what it seemed. And not everyone in this family wants the truth to come out."
Zara's eyes narrowed. "Did Ameer have something to do with it?"
Rami tilted his glass in her direction. "That's the million-dollar question, isn't it?"
Before she could push further, Ameer appeared out of nowhere.
His hand slid possessively around her waist as he stared at his cousin. "Careful, Rami. You're starting to sound like a threat."
Rami raised his hands playfully. "Just having a friendly chat with your lovely bride."
Ameer leaned in, voice low but sharp. "Stay away from her."
Zara stepped between them. "I can speak to whoever I want."
"You're my wife," Ameer snapped.
"And I'm not your puppet."
For a split second, Ameer's mask slipped. His jaw clenched, his eyes flashed, and something darker stirred beneath the surface.
"Don't test me, Zara," he whispered.
She pulled away from his hold and walked off into the crowd, her heels clicking like warning shots.
But even as she escaped the ballroom's heat, she knew this wasn't over.
Who was the woman that looked like Leena?
Why was Ameer so afraid of Rami talking?
And most of all—what had Zara really walked into when she married the Alhassan heir?