Chapter 252. His Hope

The evening sky appeared. The guests were still coming, and other house members attended to them. Ministers, businessmen, mafia leaders from around the world, and many influential figures came, but Shehryaar didn't meet any of them. He closed himself in his grandfather's room and analyzed his belongings.

The books he read. His glasses. His shoes. His clothes. His shawls.

His heart was tearing apart. But he didn't let a tear out. He didn't want to cry. He felt guilty for not coming to see him for the last time, especially when his grandfather specifically called out for him.

And that guilt told him that he had no right to cry over his death.

He was clueless how to react to this situation. It was all very surreal for him. Very odd. Oddly disturbing.

He needed peace.

And at the idea of peace, her face appeared in front of his eyes.

"Sheharzaad," he whispered, longingly.

And then her face was followed by the face of his hope—Chahat. And th