Chapter 67 — Cracks Beneath The Surface
The silence inside the private reception room stretched painfully.
Heavy.
Sharp.
Dangerous.
Nobody moved carelessly anymore.
Not after that revelation.
Farouq looked between the adults again like he genuinely hoped someone would suddenly laugh and say it was all a misunderstanding.
Nobody did.
Instead, Mr. Abbas Abdullah spoke again.
Slowly.
Coldly.
"You knew she was betrothed to my family, right? Reason why you hid it from me."
His eyes locked onto Mr. Mustopha.
"You wanted to manipulate after knowing my son doesn't know yet. We didn't tell him after the girl went missing then."
Basit lowered his head slightly.
Because yes.
He was shocked when they told him.
His father had searched desperately back then. All for him and his friend sake.
Quietly.
Without public attention.
Without selfish intention.
He simply wanted answers for a woman whose grief had nearly destroyed her-- Rihannat mother.
And somehow—
That trust had become this.
Mr. Mustopha remained calm despite the fury directed at him.
"I knew."
Mr. Abbas laughed bitterly.
"And yet you hid everything."
"I delayed telling you."
"You handed the information to someone else first."
"I handed it to her family."
"That was not your decision to make!"
The sharpness of the outburst startled even the people outside the room.
Faridat quietly grabbed her mother's hand.
Mrs. Abdullah looked exhausted now.
Not angry.
Just tired.
Like someone watching old wounds reopen.
Meanwhile—
Rihannat stood frozen.
Because suddenly everything made sense.
The strange timing.
The abrupt appearance of the Collins family.
The way events unfolded too perfectly.
Too quickly.
Her chest tightened slightly.
Her eyes slowly shifted toward Qazeem.
He was already looking at his father.
Not with anger.
Not yet.
But disappointment had already begun forming quietly in his expression.
Farouq however looked personally betrayed.
"You both knew?"
He looked between his parents helplessly.
"And nobody told us?"
Mrs. Mustopha finally spoke softly.
"Your father believed it was necessary."
"That's not an answer."
"Farouq."
"No, Mama."
For once—
His usual playful nature disappeared completely.
"You let us stand around Basit all these months acting like everything was normal while this was happening behind the scenes?"
Mr. Mustopha's expression hardened slightly.
"This matter was complicated."
Qazeem finally spoke.
Calm.
Controlled.
But somehow more dangerous than shouting.
"So Basit's father searched first."
Nobody interrupted him.
"You discouraged him."
Silence.
"You made him stop."
Still silence.
"But continued investigating secretly yourself."
Mr. Mustopha inhaled quietly.
"Yes."
"And after finding the truth…"
Qazeem's jaw tightened slightly.
"…you gave everything to the Collins family before informing the people who trusted you."
The room remained silent again.
Because there was nothing to deny.
Farouq stared at his father like he no longer recognized him.
"Why?"
This time—
Mr. Mustopha answered immediately.
"Because once I confirmed who she truly was, the priority became protecting her."
"She was already protected!" Mr. Abbas snapped immediately.
"No," Mr. Mustopha replied sharply for the first time.
"She was just surviving."
The room stilled.
Even Mr. Abbas paused.
Mr. Mustopha's voice lowered.
"You did not see the things I saw during that investigation."
His eyes briefly shifted toward Rihannat.
"A girl carrying burdens far beyond her age."
Rihannat unconsciously stiffened.
"She worked herself sick trying to survive school while protecting her dignity."
His expression darkened slightly.
"She rejected help repeatedly because she feared being indebted to people."
Rayyan lowered her eyes quietly.
Because that part was true.
Painfully true.
Mr. Mustopha continued.
"And despite everything…"
A strange respect entered his voice.
"She never compromised herself."
Faridat slowly glanced toward Rihannat emotionally.
Mr. Mustopha looked back at Mr. Abbas.
"When I discovered who she was, I realized something immediately."
His voice became quieter.
"If the information spread wrongly before confirmation… if greedy relatives appeared… if the wrong people reached her first… those who kidnapped her then...."
His expression tightened.
"That child would suffer."
Mr. Abbas looked furious still.
But now—
There was hesitation beneath it.
Mr. Mustopha continued calmly.
"So yes."
His gaze sharpened.
"I went directly to the Collins family."
"And I would repeat that decision every single time."
The tension rose again instantly.
Basit stepped forward quickly before his father exploded again.
"Father."
Mr. Abbas ignored him.
But Basit did not stop.
"With respect…"
That immediately caught everyone's attention.
Because Basit almost never interrupted his father publicly.
"You are angry because he hid the truth."
Mr. Abbas turned sharply.
"And you are not?"
Basit hesitated briefly.
Then answered honestly.
"I was."
That surprised even Qazeem slightly.
Basit continued quietly.
"But…"
His eyes shifted toward Rihannat.
"…if his decision protected her peace, then I cannot hate him for it."
Rihannat's breath caught softly.
The room fell silent again.
And suddenly—
Mr. Mustopha looked at Basit differently.
Almost thoughtfully.
Qazeem however smiled faintly.
Because once again—
Basit proved exactly why he respected him.
Farouq groaned dramatically while rubbing his forehead.
"Wonderful."
Nobody answered him.
"So the adults ruined friendships, hid investigations, transferred secret reports and emotionally traumatized everybody…"
He pointed helplessly around the room.
"…while we the innocent children were outside taking family pictures."
Even Mrs. Mustopha nearly smiled despite herself.
But before anyone could speak again—
A soft knock interrupted the room.
Mr. Collins entered carefully. He left some minutes ago to attend to one of the ministers leaving to bid goodbye.
He immediately sensed the suffocating tension.
His gaze swept across everyone calmly.
"I believe the entire hall can feel the hostility from here." he joked.
Nobody answered.
Mr. Collins sighed softly.
Then looked directly at Mr. Abbas.
"You have every right to be upset."
Mr. Abbas folded his arms tightly.
"But."
Mr. Collins continued carefully.
"If we are being truthful tonight…"
His eyes softened slightly.
"…my daughter is home because of you and the Mustopha family."
Silence.
"They did wrong by you. Mustopha should have told you but he did it for Rihannat safety. I will like to apologize Abbas, pls for my sake.
Mr. Collins stepped closer slowly.
"And regardless of how messy the process was…"
His gaze shifted toward Rihannat briefly.
"…I cannot regret that."
The anger inside the room weakened slightly.
Not gone.
But weakened.
Mr. Collins continued calmly.
"She was returned to us safely."
Then he added quietly—
"And loved properly before we found her."
That sentence softened several expressions instantly.
Especially Mrs. Mustopha's.
Because despite everything—
That much was undeniably true.
Rihannat had been cared for.
Protected.
Respected.
Not because of wealth.
Not because of status.
But because of who she was.
Mr. Abbas finally looked away first.
His anger still remained.
But the explosion everyone feared earlier…
Slowly began cooling.
Meanwhile—
Outside the reception room…
Segun leaned lazily against the balcony railing with a glass in his hand.
Listening.
Smiling.
Because the deeper the emotional cracks became—
The easier manipulation would be later.
And tonight…
The foundation had finally started breaking.
Far below in the glittering hall—
The music continued playing.
Guests continued laughing.
Photographers continued capturing beautiful moments.
Completely unaware—
That upstairs…
There was a storm raging, a bond about to snap, about to break by betrayal because Mr Abbas Abdullah feels, an instinct that tells him-- Mr Mustopha said the half truth, half a lie.
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