DUBAI HORRORS: How girls ENDED UP IN THE DEADLY TRAP OF ARAB SHEIKHS.

DUBAI HORRORS: How girls ENDED UP IN THE DEADLY TRAP OF ARAB SHEIKHS. Collection 

The body of 32-year-old Elena Rosario, a citizen of the Philippines, was found on a paved area at the foot of an elite skyscraper [music] in the business district of Doha. The official version announced by the local [music] police was suicide due to depression. However, the materials she managed to pass on a few hours before her death pointed to a cold-blooded murder, which was the culmination of her attempt to expose an international child trafficking network organized by her employer, a Qatari billionaire. The case did not receive

widespread coverage in the world press, and key details were hidden behind statements about a tragic accident. For Elena Rosario, an experienced nanny with 12 years of experience, the job offer in Qatar seemed like winning the lottery. At 32, she had worked for wealthy families in Hong Kong and Singapore, earning an impeccable reputation.

 She was known for her patience, professionalism, and genuine love for children. The money she sent home to Manila went to support her elderly parents and pay for her younger brother’s university education. The offer, which came from a prestigious recruitment agency, promised a monthly salary of $2,500, three times her previous income.

The employer was Sahed Alhammad, a Qatari billionaire whose fortune was built on [music] construction and investments. Elena was to take care of his two children, a 5-year-old boy and a three-year-old girl. After a short video interview with Sed’s wife, Amamira, who struck Elena as a polite and educated woman, the contract was signed.

 Two weeks later, Elena flew to Doha, looking forward to what she considered her dream job. At the airport, she was met by a silent driver in a snow white dish dasha who escorted her to a luxury sedan. The drive along the brightly lit avenues of Doha ended at the foot of one of the tallest towers in the West Bay area.

PART2

 The luxurious penthouse, which occupied the entire 40th floor, was breathtaking. Floor toseeiling panoramic windows offered a view of the Persian Gulf. Polished marble floors reflected the light from designer lamps, and minimalist furniture emphasized the vast space. It was a world of wealth that Elena had previously only seen in magazines.

 The children, 5-year-old Leo and 3-year-old Nenah, were charming, but their behavior immediately caused Elellena a vague uneasiness. They were unusually quiet and obedient for their age, hardly playing or making any noise. Their eyes showed a weariness that was unusual for children surrounded by love and care. The first few weeks were spent trying to establish contact.

 Elena quickly noticed some strange inconsistencies. The children did not resemble either Sed, a man with distinctive Arab features, or his wife, Amamira. The boy, Leo, had light blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, which made him look like he was from Northern Europe. The girl, Nenah, had dark skin and delicate features characteristic of East Africans.

 One evening when Amira returned from shopping, Elena plucked up the courage to ask the question that had been tormenting her for so long. She delicately inquired whether the children were adopted. Amamira’s face instantly became cold and impenetrable. “Yes, they are adopted children,” she snapped without looking at Elena.

 Their parents died in a car accident. “We will not return to this subject.” The tone was such that Elena understood. This was not a request, but an order. Her suspicions only grew when she discovered that the children did not know a word of Arabic, which was the family’s native language. They didn’t talk to each other, and when Elena [music] tried to speak to them in simple English, they responded in monosyllables with a noticeable accent that she identified as Eastern European.

 They seemed to exist in their own isolated world full of unspoken fear. Elena saw them flinch at loud noises or sudden movements, instinctively cowering when Sed [music] entered the room. He rarely paid any attention to them, spending most of his time in his office or at business meetings. But his presence seemed to paralyze the children.

 These observations painted a disturbing picture that had nothing to do with the story of tragically deceased parents and a happy adoption. Elena felt that behind the facade of luxury and respectability lay a dark secret, and these frightened children were at its [music] very center. The turning point came late one night, almost a month after Elellanena’s arrival.

 Awoken by quiet, stifled [music] sobbing, she got up and walked down the hall to the children’s bedroom. Little Nenah was curled up in her bed crying. Elellanena sat down next to her and gently hugged the girl. She was used to children’s nighttime fears, but this crying was different. It sounded like deep, conscious grief. “What’s wrong, sweetie?” Elena asked quietly, stroking the girl’s back.

 Nah pressed herself against her [music] and whispered in her broken English, “I want my mommy.” Elena’s heart sank. She continued to [music] stroke her soothingly, searching for the right words. “I know, sweetheart. I know. Do you remember your mommy?” The girl was silent for a moment, then uttered a phrase that turned Elena’s vague suspicions into chilling certainty. “I don’t know.

 Uncle said mom sold me. Elena’s world turned upside down. The words of a three-year-old child spoken with unchild resignation to fate were more terrifying [music] than any scream. It didn’t sound like a fantasy or a childish whim. It was knowledge that had been put into the little girl’s head to break her will.

 From that night on, Elena realized that she could [music] no longer be just a nanny. She became the only person in this huge cold penthouse who saw Leo and Nenah not as property but as unhappy stolen children. She was aware of the danger of her situation. She was a powerless foreign worker in a foreign country opposing a man with unlimited power and money.

 Going to the local police would not only be useless but also deadly dangerous. No one would believe her and Sed would easily portray her as crazy [music] or a blackmailer. The only way out was to find irrefutable evidence. Elena began her secret investigation, acting with extreme caution. She knew that Sed’s office was off limits.

 Even the cleaning staff were not allowed to enter without his personal [music] presence. She began to observe his daily routine, memorizing when he left and for how long. The opportunity presented itself a week later. Said and Amamira left for an evening event, a charity gala dinner that was the talk of Doha’s social scene.

 Elena put the children to bed and waited until the penthouse was quiet. She knew that security was stationed at the main entrance and the elevators, but inside the apartment, the movements of the staff were not so strictly controlled. Approaching the office door, she found that as expected, it was locked with an electronic lock. But a week of observation had not been in vain.

 She had seen Sed [music] several times, having forgotten his key card, opened the door by placing his finger on a small scanner, and then entering a code on a barely visible panel. However, once she noticed him hurriedly taking a regular metal key from a vase in the hallway, she took a chance and checked. The key was there, hidden among the artificial flowers.

With her heart in her mouth, she inserted it into the keyhole. The click of the lock sounded deafeningly loud in the silence. Inside the office, it smelled of expensive wood and tobacco. Elena did not turn on the overhead light using only the flashlight on her phone. She quickly examined the polished rosewood desk.

 On it lay only papers related to Sed’s legal business. She began to methodically check the desk drawers. The top two were unlocked and contained only office supplies. The bottom one was locked. Looking through the bunch of keys that say left on the dresser in the hallway, she found a small key that fit the [music] lock perfectly.

 Inside the drawer was a thin dark leather folder with no markings. Elena opened it and her hands trembled. Inside were not business documents. The first thing she saw were photographs of children. About 15 color passport-siz photos attached to sheets of printed text. children of different ages and nationalities, [music] several blonde like Leo, several dark-skinned like Nenah, and some Asian faces.

Under each photo was a name, age, and amount in US dollars from 30,000 to 80,000. Next to them were the contact details of people marked as suppliers with phone numbers and email addresses in Ukraine, Muldova, and Ethiopia. It was a catalog. A catalog of living children. Scrolling further, she found printouts of WhatsApp messages.

 The dialogues were in English between Sed and other subscribers listed under names like Khaled Dubai or Fahadriad. The messages were short and business-like. Need a boy age 4 to 5, European appearance. Can you guarantee he’s healthy? There’s a new batch. Three girls, ages four to six, fair-skinned, price negotiable. The client is satisfied and asks if it’s possible to find a sister for his [music] previous purchase.

 Elena felt sick. Said was not just a buyer. He was the center, the dealer in a monstrous network selling children to wealthy and childless couples in the Persian Gulf, who for one reason or another could not or did not want to go through the official adoption process. She realized that Leo and Nah were just two of many goods purchased and delivered [music] to order.

 Overcoming a wave of nausea and panic, Elena began to act. Methodically, page by page, she photographed the entire contents of the folder on her phone. Photos of children, price lists, contacts of suppliers, correspondents. Then she sent all the files to her best friend in Manila, accompanying them with a short message.

If anything happens to me, pass this on to the police and the international media. Don’t ask any [music] questions and don’t answer any. She knew she was sending her friend into a minefield, but there was no other way out. Returning the folder and keys to their place, she left the office, locking the door behind her.

 But simply exposing Sed was not enough. She couldn’t leave Leo and Nah in [music] this hell. That same night, overcome with despair, she made one last reckless attempt. She quietly woke the children, dressed them, and tried to lead them out through the service exit, hoping to take the freight elevator down and leave the building unnoticed, but her plan failed.

 She was stopped at the elevator by a security guard. He was polite, but adamant. Madam, he said calmly, “You are not allowed to leave the apartment with the children without Mr. Alhammad’s direct instruction.” All her pleas and explanations that the children needed fresh air were met with his imperturbability. The path to salvation was cut off.

 She found herself trapped on the 40th floor with evidence that could cost her her life. Elena did not know that her every move in the office and her subsequent attempt to escape had been recorded. said Alhhammad, being a cautious and suspicious man, had installed a hidden video surveillance system in the penthouse that covered all the rooms, including his private office.

 While sitting at a charity dinner, [music] he received a notification on his phone about movement in the office. Turning on the broadcast, he watched in real time as his children’s nanny picked the locks, photographed secret documents, [music] and sent them from her phone. His face did not flinch and he watched the performance to the end, including the failed attempt to escape with the children.

 Silently putting away his phone, he apologized to his companions, citing urgent business, and left the event with a mirror. The drive home was completely silent. When they entered the penthouse, Elena was just putting the awakened children back to bed. Said calmly walked into his office, leaving the door open, and gestured to the nanny to come in.

“Elena, please come in.” His voice was even, almost friendly. “When she entered,” he pointed to the chair opposite the table. He was holding her phone in his hands. You saw something you shouldn’t have seen,” he said without preamble, scrolling through the gallery of photos of documents.

 “This creates a problem for both of us.” Elena froze. She was overcome with animal fear, but the sight of his calm face made her feel a surge of rage. She remained silent, looking him straight in the eye. He put down the phone and clasped his fingers together. But every problem has a solution. I’m willing to offer you $100,000 cash right now.

 You fly out on the next flight, sign a non-disclosure agreement, and forget everything you saw here. Forget about these children, about me, about this house. It’s a very generous offer, Elena. It will allow you and your family to live comfortably for the rest of your lives. At that moment, Elena’s despair turned to contempt.

 She looked at this man in an expensive suit who talked about buying her silence as casually as he discussed buying children. She slowly rose from her chair and spat in his face. “You’re a monster,” she shouted. “These children are someone’s sons and daughters.” Said face contorted with anger. He silently wiped his face with a silk handkerchief.

At that moment, two of his bodyguards, who had been standing inconspicuously behind the door, entered the office. “It seems we have not reached an agreement,” he said coldly. “Elena rushed to the exit, but the guards, tall and muscular, easily intercepted her. She struggled desperately, but her arms were held in an iron grip.

 They dragged her across the living room to the panoramic windows leading to the spacious balcony. Sad followed behind. Stepping out into the piercing night wind, he pulled her phone out of her pocket. “Have you sent the photos yet?” “To whom?” he asked, looking her in the eyes. Elena was silent, breathing heavily.

 Her gaze was fixed on the glass door leading to the living room. “There, their faces pressed against the cold glass, stood Leo and Nenah. Their eyes were filled with horror. They watched silently as the two men held their nanny, [music] said, not waiting for an answer, nodded to the guards. They lifted her effortlessly and carried her over the high glass railing of the balcony.

 For a brief moment, she hung in the air, held by strong arms. The last thing she saw were the frightened faces of the two children frozen behind the window. Then the arms loosened their grip. The fall from the 40th floor took just over 4 seconds. The official conclusion of the Qatari police was brief and left no room for interpretation. Suicide committed in a state of deep depression caused by homesickness and financial problems.

 The case was closed in record [music] time. But Elena’s friend in Manila upon receiving the terrible news of her death carried out her last wish. She sent the photos and a copy of the correspondence to all the major Philippine news agencies and also sent a complete package of documents to Interpol headquarters. A quiet international scandal erupted under pressure from human rights organizations and the Philippine government.

 The Qatari authorities were forced to launch an investigation. Seda al-Hamad was arrested but held in custody for only 3 months. He was released due to lack of evidence. Key witnesses from among his servants and security guards either refused to testify or claimed they had seen nothing. The folder with the documents that Elena had photographed disappeared from the office.

 Shortly after his release, Sah sold his property in Qatar and moved to Saudi Arabia [music] where he disappeared without a trace. Of the 15 children whose photos were in the folder, international organizations managed to find and return only four to their home countries. The fate of the others, including Leo and Nenah, remains unknown.

 Elena Rosario’s family received $200,000 in compensation from the Qatari government as humanitarian aid with the unspoken condition that they cease [music] all public accusations and contact with the press. The story of Elena, a nanny who gave her life trying to save other people’s children, never became public knowledge, remaining just one of many untold tragedies hidden behind the facades of wealth and power.

 24-year-old Russian woman Victoria Sokovva drowned in the pool of an Emirati developer villa on Palm Jira after he [music] learned the truth about her life. Officially, it was an accident, but the details suggest [music] otherwise. Victoria arrived in Dubai 3 years ago with two suitcases and dreams of a better life.

 Her passport [music] contained a visa for a sales assistant at the Dubai Mall with a salary of $12,00ate [music] where the rent was $600. Every morning, Victoria would board a crowded bus and travel 40 minutes to work. She stood behind the counter of a cosmetic store for 8 hours straight, smiling at tourists and advising them on creams and lipsticks.

She returned late in the evening to her tiny apartment with a single window overlooking the parking lot. This was her real life in Dubai. On social media, there was a different Victoria. She had 850,000 followers on Instagram. Her profile showed a completely different reality. In the photos, she posed in penous with panoramic windows overlooking the Burge Khalifa.

 She sat behind the wheel of a red Ferrari. She sunbathed on the bow of a snow white yacht in the middle of the Persian Gulf. She dined at the Burj Alarab restaurant where the bill started at $500 per person. She wore Versace dresses and Chanel bags. She drank champagne on terraces overlooking fountains. The life of a successful wealthy girl who made it on her own in the city of opportunity.

 It was all a lie. a carefully orchestrated lie that required money, time, and constant tension. Victoria didn’t own any of these things. She rented them. In Dubai, there is an entire industry serving influencers and those who want to create the illusion of luxury for social media. Victoria found several agencies that provided such services.

 The penthouse cost $200 per hour to shoot. The owner of the apartment allowed her to come when he was not at home. He gave her an hour. Victoria brought a suitcase with clothes and took a series of photos in different outfits by the panoramic windows, on the balcony, and in the living room with designer furniture. 40 to 50 shots per hour.

 That was enough for a month’s worth of content. Supercars were rented in parking lots. $150 for a half-hour photo shoot with a red Ferrari or a yellow Lamborghini. The owners of these cars were often ordinary people who had bought the cars on credit and were thus paying off their loans. Victoria didn’t get behind the wheel.

She just posed next to or inside the car in the shopping center parking lot. The cameraman took pictures at the right angle so that it wasn’t obvious that the car was just parked among other cars. Yachts were more expensive. A three-hour rental of a small yacht with a captain cost $400. Victoria teamed up with other female bloggers, and they split the cost between three or four of them.

 They went out into the bay and took photos against the backdrop of the horizon. Each got their share of content. The main thing was not to show the other girls in the frame so as to create the illusion of a private outing. Clothes and accessories were rented from special services. A Dior dress for a day cost $80.

 A Hermes bag cost $50 for an evening. Jewelry, watches, and sunglasses from luxury brands could all be rented. Victoria would wear them, take photos, and return them the next day. In the closet of her real apartment hung jeans from the market and t-shirts that cost $10. Restaurants were the easiest part of the fake content.

 Victoria would go to expensive establishments, order one dessert for $20 and a coffee. She would sit there for two hours taking dozens of photos of the interior, her plate, her glass, and the view from the window. She would post them with a caption about a wonderful dinner, even though she had only eaten a pastry. Then she would go to a nearby diner and have a $5 shawarma for dinner.

 This double life brought in income. Advertisers saw the number of subscribers and the level of audience engagement. They didn’t check whether Victoria was really rich. What mattered to them was that 850,000 people were watching her. Clothing, cosmetics, jewelry, and travel service [music] brands offered paid placements from 300 to $1,000 per post depending on the conditions.

Victoria earned between $3 and $5,000 a month from advertising. She deducted the cost of renting props, about $1,200 a month. There was enough left over to save. The money wasn’t for her. Her mother, Arena Sakoliva, 52 years old, lived in a small town near Moscow. She was diagnosed with stage 3 [music] breast cancer 2 years ago.

 Free treatment at a state hospital included chemotherapy and standard procedures. But doctors said that a complete cure would require surgery at a private clinic and targeted therapy. The cost was $80,000. Insurance did not cover it. Victoria’s father died 10 years ago. She had no other relatives with money. Victoria sent her mother $2 to $3,000 every month.

 Over 2 years, she saved up $58,000. She needed another $22,000 for the operation. Her mother waited. Her condition worsened, but she held on. She called her daughter every week to ask how things were going in Dubai. Victoria told her about her job at the mall, but never mentioned Instagram [music] or her fake life.

 Her mother thought her daughter was just good at saving her salary. Victoria’s [music] Instagram profile was simply her first and last name in Latin letters. The description read, “Entrepreneur, travel lover, Dubai.” There were no direct statements about wealth, but the photos spoke for themselves. The comments under the posts were enthusiastic.

 Girls wrote that they dreamed of such a life, asked for advice on how to move to Dubai, how to achieve success. Victoria responded vaguely, “Work on yourself. Believe in your dream. Don’t give up.” She never revealed the mechanics of creating her content. She had several blogger friends who did the same thing. They would meet in cheap cafes in charger, discuss new locations for shoots, and share contacts for rental agencies. It was their secret community.

No one talked about it publicly. Everyone understood that exposure would destroy their accounts and income. They supported [music] each other, but competed for advertisers. Victoria spent an average of two days a month creating content. These were weekends when she wasn’t working at the mall.

 She rented all the locations for one day, took a huge number of photos and videos, and then stretched the publication over 4 weeks, one post a day, sometimes two stories several times a day, reposts of other people’s content, short videos from the archive, screenshots of messages from brands. This created the illusion of a constantly active life, although in reality, Victoria spent [music] most of her time in the store or in her studio in charger.

 Khaled al-Maktum appeared in her direct messages late one evening in October. Victoria had already gone to bed after her shift and was checking her phone before turning off the light. She saw a new message from a verified account. The profile showed a man in his mid-40s [music] wearing traditional Emirati clothing. He had 320,000 followers.

 His posts were about real estate, construction [music] projects, and meetings with other shakes and businessmen. The description said, “Ceo of a construction company, owner of several properties in Dubai.” The message was short. I want to meet a girl of my level. Victoria knew that many bloggers received such [music] messages.

 Wealthy Amiratis often wrote to girls with beautiful profiles. Usually, it ended with offers to meet for [music] money or become a kept mistress. Victoria never responded to such messages. She was not involved in escort services and did not want to get involved with that world. But this time, she hesitated.

 She looked at Khaled’s profile [music] more closely. He really did look like a wealthy developer. photos from the opening ceremonies of residential complexes, handshakes with people in business suits, a post about the completion of a $2 billion tower. He wasn’t just a rich tourist. He was a man with real status in the city.

Victoria thought about her mother, about the $22,000 that were still missing, about how long it would take her to save 2 or 3,000 a month, another year, maybe more. her mother might not wait that long. The doctors said that with each passing month, the chances of successful treatment were decreasing.

 She replied to Khaled [music] the next day. Thank you for your interest in my profile. She was careful with her wording, not flirting openly. Khaled replied quickly. He asked who she was, what she did in Dubai, where she was from. Victoria wrote what she had long rehearsed in her head in case of such questions from subscribers.

She is an entrepreneur consulting for Russian companies wishing to enter the UAE market. She has been living in Dubai for 3 years. She was born in Moscow. Khaled asked if he could invite her to dinner. Victoria agreed but asked for a week to prepare, citing her [music] busy work schedule.

 In reality, she needed time to prepare. She understood that meeting a real wealthy person required a different level of preparation than taking photos in rented locations. Victoria spent two days studying Khaled’s profile and information about him on the internet. She found articles in local business publications about his company.

 It specialized in the construction of luxury residential complexes on the coast. Khaled was the son of the influential Al-Maktum clan, although not from the main branch of the ruling family. He had three brothers, all of whom were involved in business. Khaled himself graduated from university in London with a degree in civil engineering.

 He was married 20 years ago, but is now divorced. He has no children. He lives in a villa on Palm Jira. She realized that she was dealing with a serious man who would not be satisfied [music] with superficial conversation. She needed a convincing story. Victoria decided to stick to the story of being the daughter of a wealthy Russian businessman.

 This explained her social media profile and gave her a reason to act confidently. She thought through the details. Her father is in the oil business, lives between Moscow and London. They are on good terms, but she prefers independence and is building her career separately from the family business. 3 days before the meeting, Victoria spent her last $800 savings on preparation.

 She booked a room at the Jira Beach Hotel for one night for $250 so she would have an address for the taxi if Khaled offered to pick her up. She rented a black Dolce and Gabbana cocktail dress for $150 for the evening. She bought a new pair of shoes for $100 because rented shoes always looked worn. She spent $200 on a hairdresser and makeup artist.

 She set aside the rest of her money for taxis and unexpected expenses. Nou restaurant was located in the Atlantis Hotel on Palm Jira. Victoria arrived by taxi, paying $30 for the ride. She got out in front of the entrance, straightened her dress, and took a deep breath. Her heart was beating fast. She had been photographed many times in expensive places, but she had never really been there, never dined there, never socialized with people from that circle.

 Khaled was waiting at a table on the terrace overlooking the bay. He stood up when she was brought over. He was tall, about he 185 cm, wearing a traditional white kandura and black gutra. His face was stern, but with a warm smile, he had a firm handshake. He invited her to sit opposite him. The waiter brought the menu. Victoria opened it and was taken aback for a second when she saw the prices.

 Appetizers started at $40. Main courses ranged from 80 to 150. Khaled told her to order whatever she wanted. Victoria chose sushi and sashimi based on the names she had heard before. Khed ordered a steak and a bottle of white wine for $300. They started talking. He asked about her life, her family, her plans. Victoria answered confidently, using her prepared story.

 She talked about consulting, the difficulties of doing business between two countries, and her love for Dubai. She mentioned her father in passing as a successful but busy man with whom she had a good but distant relationship. Khaled listened attentively. He talked about his projects and showed photos of towers under construction on his phone.

He talked about plans to build a new residential complex on the coast worth $1.5 billion. Victoria nodded, asked questions, and showed interest. She was a good listener. Her job at the store had taught her how to communicate with people and find common ground. Dinner lasted 3 hours. The bill came to $850. Khaled paid with a black credit card without even looking at the amount.

He walked Victoria to the taxi and asked for her phone number. She gave it to him. He said he would like to meet again. Victoria replied that she was also glad to have met him. In the taxi back to the hotel, she breathed a sigh of relief. The evening had gone well. Khaled believed her. She had played her role convincingly.

Now the question was how far this game could go and what she was willing to do for her mother’s money. Khaled texted Victoria the next day. The message arrived at noon when she was standing behind the store counter between two customers. Her phone vibrated in her uniform pocket. She couldn’t check it, but she felt a growing tension.

 During her lunch break, she read it. Thanks for the wonderful evening. I’d like to show you my new project. It might be interesting from your consulting perspective. Victoria replied an hour later when she had a free moment. She wrote that she would be happy to take a look. Khaled suggested meeting at the construction site in 3 days.

 Victoria took a day off work, citing a doctor’s appointment. Her manager reluctantly agreed, reminding her that time off would be deducted from her salary. The construction site was in the Dubai Marina area. Khaled sent a car, a black Mercedes with a driver. Victoria put on a business suit rented for $50 a day [music] and low heeled shoes.

 She arrived at the site where the first floors of a huge complex were already being built. Khaled met her wearing a helmet and a reflective vest, showed her the blueprints, explained the concept of the building, and talked about the technologies. Victoria listened, asking questions she had found on the internet the day before about the construction of high-rise buildings.

After the tour, they went to lunch. Khaled chose a restaurant on the waterfront. Over lunch, the conversation became more personal. He asked why she wasn’t married. Victoria replied that she had been busy with her career and hadn’t met the right person. Khaled nodded and said he understood. His marriage had fallen apart because his wife did not share his ambitions.

 She wanted a quiet family life while he was building a business. Victoria listened sympathetically. He added that he was looking for a woman who understood the business world and could be a partner, not just a housewife. Victoria felt that he was evaluating her as a potential partner. It was unexpected.

 She thought he was looking for entertainment or a short-term relationship. But Khaled was talking about serious things. He mentioned that at his age and in his position, reputation was important, that the woman by his side had to match his status. Victoria understood the hint. Over the next two weeks, they saw each other four times.

 Khaled invited her to restaurants, evening walks along the beach, and yacht shows at the marina. He was a gentleman, didn’t rush things, didn’t demand intimacy. He gave her flowers after every meeting. Victoria always came up with a reason why he couldn’t pick her up from her home. Sometimes she said she was meeting a friend nearby.

 Other times that she [music] had a business meeting near the restaurant. Khaled didn’t insist. She gave him the address of the hotel where she stayed overnight [music] after each date, paying for it with her meager savings. The costs of maintaining her image were growing. Each meeting required new clothes, a taxi, and sometimes a night in a hotel.

 Victoria spent everything she earned from advertising on Instagram. She had nothing left to send to her mother. Her mother called and asked when the next transfer would be. Victoria promised it would be at the end of the month, making up excuses about delays in payments [music] from clients. A month after they met, Khaled invited Victoria to dinner at [music] his villa.

He said he wanted to show her the house where he lived so she could get to know his life better. Victoria agreed, although she felt uneasy inside. Private property meant less control over the situation. The villa on Palm Jira stood on the shore with its own pier and beach. It was a two-story building with a white facade, huge windows, and a flat roof with a terrace.

 The security guard opened the gate and the car drove up the driveway. Khaled met Victoria at the entrance. He showed her around the house. The living room had 6 m high ceilings, marble floors, dark wood furniture. The paintings on the walls were not reproductions, but originals. Victoria didn’t know much about art, but she could see that they were expensive.

The kitchen was the size of her studio in charger. The pool in the backyard opened directly onto the bay, creating the illusion of endless water. Dinner was served on the terrace by the pool. The chef prepared four courses. The waiter poured the wine. Victoria sat and realized [music] that this was no longer a game of renting props for an hour.

This was the real life of a real rich man, which she had entered by deception. After dinner, Khaled took out a small box. He opened it and inside was a bracelet, gold and diamonds. Victoria froze. Khaled said he wanted to give her a gift because she was special. He put the bracelet on her wrist. Victoria thanked him, tried to refuse, saying it was too much, but Khaled insisted.

 He said that a woman of his status should wear appropriate jewelry. Victoria returned to her studio late at night. She took off the bracelet, turned on the lamp, and examined it. On the inside was the Cartier stamp. She found a similar model on the brand’s website. The price was $25,000. Victoria’s head spun. It was the money she needed for her mother’s operation.

Almost the entire amount. For the next two days, she thought about what to do. The bracelet lay in a desk drawer wrapped in a handkerchief. Victoria knew she could sell it. There was a market for reselling luxury items in Dubai. But that would mean betraying Khaled’s trust. On the other hand, their entire relationship was based on deception.

 She was already deceiving him everyday by pretending to be someone she was not. Victoria found a dealer through her acquaintances. The man agreed to meet her at a cafe. He looked at the bracelet, checked its authenticity, and offered $15,000. Victoria wanted more, but the dealer explained that without the documents and box, the resale value would drop by 40%.

Plus his commission, 15,000 or nothing. Victoria agreed. The money was transferred to her account 2 hours later. She sent the entire amount to her mother that same day. She called in the evening. Her mother cried with joy. She said that now there was enough money for the operation and she could make an appointment at the clinic.

 She asked where her daughter had gotten the money. Victoria replied that she had closed a big contract with a client and received a bonus. Her mother blessed her, thanked her, and said she was proud of her daughter. Victoria hung up and sat in the silence of the studio. She realized [music] that she had crossed the line.

 Now, she wasn’t just creating fake content for social media. She was stealing from someone who trusted her, but she didn’t feel particularly guilty. She felt tired and relieved. Her mother would get treatment. That was the main thing. Khaled didn’t ask about the bracelet at their next meetings. Victoria didn’t wear it when they met, explaining that she was afraid of losing such a valuable item and only wore it on [music] special occasions.

Khaled accepted her explanation. Their relationship continued to develop. He called everyday, asked about her affairs, [music] and sent her good morning messages. Two weeks later, Khaled gave her a bag, a Hermes Birkin, black leather, gold hardware. Victoria recognized the model. She had seen it in rental services for $50 a day, but always considered it too recognizable for her fake content.

Now she had the real thing. Khaled said he saw it in the store and thought of her. Victoria hugged him and kissed [music] him on the cheek. It was the first time she had shown physical affection. Khaled smiled and hugged her back. The bag went to the reseller 3 [music] days later. Victoria received $27,000. The original price was $45,000.

 She sent her mother another 10,000 to pay for additional procedures after the operation. She kept the rest for herself as a safety net. For the first time in 3 years, she had [music] savings. Her mother had the operation at the end of November. Victoria couldn’t fly to Russia because Khaled was expecting her [music] at an important business dinner where he wanted to introduce her to his friends.

 She spoke to her mother via video link from her hospital room. Her mother looked weak, but the doctors said that everything had gone well. She needed recovery and a course of targeted therapy. The prognosis was good. Victoria cried after the call. She cried out of relief and from understanding the price she had to pay.

 The business lunch took place at a private club in downtown. Khaled introduced Victoria as his girlfriend to three couples. The men were his business partners and the women were their wives. Everyone spoke English, discussing real estate, investments, and holiday plans. Victoria kept up the conversation, smiled, and answered questions about her work with memorized phrases about consulting.

 One of the women asked where Victoria had studied. Victoria named the Higher School of Economics in Moscow. The woman nodded and said she had heard of the university. After dinner in the car, Khaled said that she had made an excellent impression. His friends approved. Victoria realized that she had been tested.

 Khaled was checking whether she could exist in his social circle. She passed the test. In December, the gifts became more frequent. A Rolex watch, diamond earrings, a Max Mara coat, Clive Christian perfume costing $1200 a bottle. Victoria accepted everything. thanked him and then sold it through resellers. Money flowed like water.

 She sent her mother to therapy and saved the rest. In two months of dating Khaled, she earned more than she had in 2 years working at the mall and on her fake Instagram account combined. But a new problem arose. Khaled wanted more intimacy. He hinted that he wanted Victoria to spend more time at his villa. He suggested she stay the night.

Victoria refused, making [music] up excuses. Early meetings at work, feeling unwell, tiredness. Khaled was patient, but she could see the questions in his eyes. He was beginning to wonder about her constant refusals. He also offered to pick her up from home several times. He wanted to see where she lived. Victoria avoided answering every time.

She said that her apartment was being renovated, that her friend was living with her temporarily and it was inconvenient to [music] bring guests, that it was better to meet in restaurants where it was more romantic. Khaled accepted her excuses, but Victoria felt that his patience [music] was not unlimited. In mid December, Khaled made a proposal that left Victoria at a dead end.

 He said he wanted her to move in with him, that they had a serious relationship, and it was time to take the next step. The villa was large, and she would have her own room if she wanted personal [music] space. But he wanted to see her everyday, wake up together, fall asleep together, build a future. Victoria froze. It was a trap.

 She couldn’t move in with him because then the deception would be revealed. She didn’t have the things a rich girl would have. She had no wardrobe to bring with her, no personal items, no photos with her family, no documents to back up her story. Her studio in charger contained cheap jeans and an empty refrigerator.

Moving would mean the end of the game. Victoria asked for time to think. She said it was a big step and she needed to weigh everything up. Khaled agreed, but added that he didn’t want to wait long. He would be turning 47 in January and wanted to celebrate his birthday with the woman he loved by his side. Victoria nodded and promised to give him an answer after the holidays.

 She returned home in a panic. She lay on her bed, stared at the ceiling, and tried to find a way out. She could confess everything, but that would mean losing Khaled, probably a scandal, and possibly legal problems. The UAE has strict rules about fraud. She had sold his gifts worth tens of thousands of dollars.

 That could be classified as theft. She could disappear, leave Dubai, and return to Russia. But then she would have to give up her job, her account, everything she had built. Plus, Khaled knew her name and had seen her face thousands of times in photos and in person. He could find her through his connections.

 The third option was to continue the game, deepening the deception, to come up with a new story that would explain the absence of her belongings during the move. Victoria chose the third option because she saw no other way out that would not destroy everything. A week later, she met with Khaled and said she was ready to move. But there was a problem.

 She was in a fight with her father. a serious fight over her unwillingness to work in the family business. Her father wanted her to return to Russia and take a position in his company. Victoria refused, wanting independence. Her father, in a rage, blocked all her accounts that he controlled. He took the keys to the apartment he had bought in her name.

 She now lives with a friend using the few things she had at the time of the quarrel. Khaled listened with a serious expression. He asked how long ago it had happened. Victoria said a month ago. That’s why she didn’t want to burden him with her problems and tried to solve them herself. Khaled hugged her. He said she was doing the right thing by standing up for her independence.

 That he would help her, that she would have everything she needed. The next day, Khaled invited Victoria to go shopping. They spent the whole day in shopping malls. He bought her clothes, shoes, and accessories. Dresses, suits, jeans, tops, underwear, cosmetics, perfume. He didn’t ask about the prices. He just told the sales assistants what to pack.

 At first, Victoria tried to stop him, saying that it was too much. But Khaled said that he wanted to provide her with everything she needed to feel comfortable in her new home. They spent $200,000 in one day. Victoria couldn’t believe what was happening. It was more money than she had ever seen in her entire life.

 Boxes and bags filled the entire trunk of the SUV. Khaled ordered another car for transport. In the evening, they brought everything to the villa. Khaled showed Victoria the room he had prepared for her. It was a large bedroom on the second floor with a dressing room and a bathroom. Victoria arranged her purchases on the shelves.

Khaled watched from the doorway, smiling. He said he was happy to see her there. That now it was her home, too. Victoria officially moved in 3 days later. She had no belongings to move from her friend’s apartment, only one suitcase with a minimum of personal items that she had collected from her studio in Charger.

 Khaled asked no questions. He accepted the situation as it was. The first few days in the villa were strange. Victoria woke up in a huge bed under silk sheets. She had breakfast on the terrace where the chef cooked whatever she wanted. She spent her days by the pool or in her room because she had quit her job at the mall.

 She told her manager that she was leaving the country. In the evening, Khaled would come home from work. They would have dinner together, talk, watch movies in the home theater. This was the life Victoria showed on Instagram. Now she was really living it. But there was no joy. There was a constant fear of exposure.

 Every conversation with Khaled, every question about the past, [music] every mention of family caused tension. She lied constantly, memorized lies, built new layers of deception on top of old ones. Khaled became more serious in his intentions. [music] He talked about the future. He mentioned the possibility of marriage. He wanted to introduce Victoria to his family, his brothers, his mother.

 It was frightening. The family would ask questions, check things out. Victoria postponed the meetings, citing a quarrel with her father, saying that it was awkward to meet his family when she was in conflict with her own. Khaled offered to help her make up with her father. He said he wanted to talk to her father to explain that they were in a serious [music] relationship to ask for his blessing.

He asked for her father’s phone number. Victoria was confused. She said her father wouldn’t talk to him, that he was too stubborn, [music] that it would take time. Khaled insisted. He said that as a man, he understood the importance of talking to the girl’s father, that it was the right thing to do according to tradition.

Victoria gave him a non-existent number. She said she would try to talk to him herself first to prepare the ground. Khaled agreed to wait a week. Victoria understood that time was running out. She had backed herself into a corner with her own lies. The further the relationship went, the harder it was to get out without consequences.

She tried to find a way out. She thought about hiring someone to play the role of her father on the phone, but she understood that Khaled would want a face-toface [music] meeting. She thought about confessing, but was afraid of the reaction. Khaled was an influential man in Dubai.

 She had deceived him [music] and sold his gifts for a lot of money. In this country, people were sent to prison for less. At best, she would be deported. Victoria continued to live in the villa, playing the role of a loving girlfriend, smiling, kissing Khaled, and thanking him for his gifts. Inside, her anxiety grew.

 She slept poorly, waking up from nightmares. She lost her appetite. Khaled noticed and asked if everything was okay. Victoria said she was worried about her mother, who was undergoing treatment. It was true, but not the whole truth. Her mother called once a week. She felt better after the operation. The doctors were pleased with the results. The therapy was helping.

She asked when Victoria would come to visit. Victoria promised to come for [music] New Year’s, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to. Khaled planned to spend the holidays together at [music] the villa to throw a party for friends to introduce Victoria as his future wife. At the end of December, an event occurred that hastened the Denum.

 Khaled said at dinner that he wanted to surprise Victoria. [music] His mother was coming to visit them tomorrow. She wanted to meet her son’s girlfriend. Victoria froze with a fork in her hand. She asked why so suddenly. Khaled replied that his mother had learned about their relationship from his brothers and insisted on meeting her.

She was a traditional woman and it was important for her to approve of her son’s choice. Victoria didn’t sleep all night. She knew that Khaled’s mother would ask questions to test her. Traditional Emirati families carefully select brides for their sons, especially in families of high standing. Victoria did not know all the rules of behavior, did not speak Arabic, and did not understand the culture on a deep level.

She was a Russian girl pretending to be a rich ays. The meeting took place the next day in the villa’s living room. Khaled’s mother arrived with one of her brother’s wives. Both women were dressed in traditional black abayas. They sat on the sofa and drank tea prepared by the housekeeper.

 Victoria wore a modest dress. Her hair was tied back in a bun and she wore minimal makeup. She tried to look respectable. The conversation was conducted through Khaled who translated from Arabic and English. The mother asked about Victoria’s family, what her father did, where her mother lived, whether she had any brothers or sisters. Victoria answered cautiously.

She said that her father was a businessman, her mother was a housewife, and she had no other children. Khaled’s mother wanted to know what kind of [music] business. Victoria said oil. Her mother nodded and asked more questions. Victoria answered vaguely, saying that her father did not tell her the details of his work because of a quarrel.

 Her brother’s wife was silent, but watched closely. Victoria felt her appraising gaze. After an hour of conversation, the women got up and said goodbye. Khaled walked them to the car. He returned with a smile. He said that everything had gone well. His mother approved of Victoria.

 She called her a well-mannered and beautiful girl, but she added that she would like to meet Victoria’s family before they got closer. Victoria realized that the trap was closing. Meeting the family was impossible. The oligarch father did not exist. Her mother was recovering from surgery in Russia and knew nothing about her daughter’s fake life.

 Victoria couldn’t arrange a meeting without revealing the deception. Khaled said he would ask his mother to wait until spring. He would give Victoria time to reconcile with her father, but in the spring they would have to arrange a meeting between the families. It was a tradition before the engagement. Victoria nodded in agreement.

 Inside, panic was growing. She understood that this couldn’t go on for long. On New Year’s Eve, they celebrated together on the terrace by the pool. Khaled ordered fireworks over the villa. He opened a bottle of champagne worth $1,000. At midnight, he kissed Victoria, and said that it was the best year of [music] his life, that she had changed everything, that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

 Victoria smiled, hugged him, and said the same words [music] in return. She looked at the fireworks over the bay and thought about when it would all come crashing down. Not if but when because such deceptions don’t [music] last forever. Sooner or later the truth comes out. The only question was how exactly it would happen and what the consequences would be.

She didn’t know that Khaled had already started checking things out that on New Year’s Eve he had called a private investigator he used to check out business partners. He asked him to find out about Victoria Sokova. full name, date of birth, passport information. Khaled said he was planning to get married and wanted to be sure he knew everything about his [music] future wife.

 The detective promised results in a week. The detective started work on January 2nd. His name was Karim, a former police officer who had opened a private agency after retiring. He specialized in vetting business partners and conducting investigations for wealthy clients. Khaled had been his [music] regular customer for the past 5 years.

 Kareem checked potential investors, contractors, and competitors. Checking clients personal lives was rare, but not unheard of. Kareem received Victoria’s full details from Khaled. Her first and last name and date of birth were taken from the passport she had shown when registering as a guest at the villa.

 Kareem began with basic [music] checks. Victoria’s visa turned out to be a work visa sponsored by the Dubai Mall. This immediately raised questions. The daughter of an oligarch with a salesperson’s work visa. Kareem dug deeper. He found Victoria’s registration address through the immigration service database, a studio in charger, a rented apartment.

 Kareem went there on the second day of his investigation. The building was an ordinary residential complex for middle-class workers. nothing luxurious. He talked to the security guard, showed him a photo of Victoria, and asked about the tenant of this apartment. The security guard confirmed that the girl had been living there for 3 years, renting a studio apartment, a normal tenant, quiet, paying on time.

 Kareem contacted her employer through an official request. He received confirmation that Victoria Soalova had worked as a sales consultant in a cosmetic store until the end of December. Her salary was one Saktus $100 per month. She resigned of her own accord on December 28th. There were no signs of a consulting business or work with Russian companies.

 Kareem’s next step was to check Victoria’s Instagram profile. 850,000 followers, hundreds of photos of a luxurious lifestyle. [music] He began to analyze the geolocations and details of the photos. Some of the photos were taken in apartments that were rented out for short-term stays. Kareem found ads for the same apartments on daily rental websites.

 He compared the interiors. They matched. The cars in the photos also aroused suspicion. Kareem noticed that the Ferrari and Lamborghini were always photographed in parking lots, never in motion. He contacted several companies that provide supercar photooot services. At one of the companies, the manager confirmed that Victoria was a client.

 She rented cars for photooots at a rate of $150 per half hour. The last time was in October before she met Khaled. Kareem found clothing and accessory rental agencies. Two of them had Victoria Soalova listed as a regular customer in their databases. She rented designer dresses, bags, and jewelry. The managers remembered her because she was a careful customer who always returned items on time and in good condition.

In 5 days, Kareem pieced together the whole picture. Victoria Soalova was an ordinary middle-class girl who worked as a salesperson for minimum wage, lived in a cheap studio apartment, and created a fake image on social media by renting props. No oligarch father, no consulting business, no quarrels with her family, and no frozen accounts.

 It was all a fabrication. Kareem prepared a 30-page report. He included photos of the studio in charger, screenshots of correspondence with rental agencies, confirmation of employment at the shopping center, extracts from the immigration service database, a comparative analysis of photos on Instagram and location rental ads.

 He also added financial information. Victoria’s bank account showed regular transfers to Russia for large sums of money. Over the past 2 months, she had sent $42,000. On January 7th, Karim met with Khaled in his office. He handed him the folder with the report. Khaled read silently, flipping through the pages, his face turned to stone.

 When he reached the [music] end, he closed the folder and placed it on the table. He sat silently for several minutes. Karim waited. Khaled finally spoke. He asked if Karim was sure about the information. Karim replied that everything had been double-cheed and that there was a documentary evidence. Khaled dismissed the detective, asking him not to tell anyone about the investigation.

 Karim promised confidentiality. Left alone in the office, Khaled looked out the [music] window at the city. He realized that he had been living a lie for the last 3 months. The girl he had fallen in love with, whom he trusted, whom he was going to marry, turned out to be a fraud. She had used him as a source of money.

 She had sold all his gifts. She played her role so convincingly that he believed her completely. For Khaled, it wasn’t just deception. It was humiliation. In Emirati culture, honor and reputation are of paramount importance. He had introduced Victoria to his friends and mother and talked about their engagement.

 Everyone thought he was dating the daughter of a Russian oligarch, a worthy match. Now, if the truth came out, he would become a laughingstock, a man who had been led around by the nose, by a simple saleswoman. Khaled felt rage, not so much because of the money. The gifts were worth about $100,000, which was not a critical amount for him.

 Because of the humiliation, because she dared to think he was stupid, easily deceived, because every kiss, every word of love was a lie calculated for profit. Khaled decided there had to be a confrontation. He wanted to see her face when he showed her the evidence. He wanted to hear her try to explain. He wanted her to understand that she couldn’t deceive him with impunity.

He arrived at the villa in the evening. Victoria greeted him as usual, kissed him, and asked [music] about his day. Khaled behaved normally, smiled, and hugged her. He said he was tired [music] and wanted to spend a quiet evening at home. Victoria suggested dinner on the terrace. Khaled agreed.

 They had dinner and talked about their plans for the weekend. Khaled suggested opening a bottle of champagne to celebrate the start of the year. Victoria agreed. They sat by the pool. January evenings in Dubai are cool with temperatures around 20°. The heated pool water gave off a light mist. The lights of the villa were reflected on the surface.

 Khaled took out his phone and said he wanted to show Victoria something interesting. He connected his phone to a large screen mounted on the terrace wall for watching movies outdoors. Documents appeared on the screen. Victoria didn’t immediately understand what she was seeing. Then she figured it out.

 A photo of her studio in Sharah, a contract with a shopping center to work as a salesperson. Screenshots of correspondence with car rental agencies and photo shoot locations. The blood drained from her face. The glass of champagne almost fell from her hand. She looked at Khaled. He was looking at her with a cold gaze she had never seen before.

 He was flipping through the pages of the report on the screen. Each page was a blow. The evidence of her deception was building up into an irrefutable picture. Victoria tried to say something, but her voice stuck in her throat. Khaled spoke calmly without raising his voice. He said he had hired a detective to check her out, that he wanted to be sure before getting married, that he had received a full report on everything about her real job, her real apartment, about renting props for fake photos, about selling his gifts. He knew everything. Victoria

began to cry. She said she could explain. Khaled replied coldly that he was ready to listen. Through her tears, Victoria told him about her mother, about the cancer, about the operation that cost $80,000, about how she had no other way to get the money, that she didn’t want to deceive him, but it was the only way to save her mother.

 Khaled listened silently. When she finished, he asked why she hadn’t been honest with him, why she hadn’t told him about the problem, asked for help. Victoria replied that they had only just met. She couldn’t ask a stranger for that kind of money. Khaled asked if it was okay to deceive a stranger and use him as an ATM. Victoria was silent.

 She understood that there were no excuses. She had indeed used him. She could have asked for help honestly when they became closer, but she chose the path of deception and selling gifts. Khaled stood up and paced [music] the terrace. He said that she had humiliated him. She had made him look like a fool in front of himself.

 She had made him introduce her to his mother and friends as [music] a respectable woman even though she was a fraud. He asked if she understood that in the UAE people go to prison for such things. That selling gifts obtained by deception qualifies as fraud, that he could go to the police and she would spend several years in prison, then be deported with a ban on re-entry.

Victoria fell to her knees, begging him not to do this. She said she would return everything, that she would find a way, that she would do anything. Khaled looked down at her. He said she had no money to return, that she had sent all the money to Russia, that there was nothing to return. Victoria sobbed, repeating that she would find a way.

 She would ask her mother to sell the apartment. She would borrow from someone. She would work and pay off the debt for years. Khaled said he wasn’t interested in money. He was interested in justice. She had to be punished for what she had done. Victoria desperately tried to get up to leave. She said she would leave right now, disappear, and he would never see her again. Khaled blocked her way.

 He said she wasn’t going anywhere until they decided what to do next. He called the security guards who were on duty at the villa gate. Two men came out onto the terrace. Khaled ordered them not to let Victoria leave the villa. Victoria panicked and rushed to [music] the exit. The guards stopped her, not roughly, but firmly.

 They brought her back to the terrace. Victoria screamed that they were holding her against her will, that it was illegal. Khaled said he just wanted to finish the conversation, that she was a guest in his house and had to listen. He continued talking. He said that the problem was not just about money. The problem was that she had destroyed [music] his trust.

 That because of her he would doubt people for the rest of his life. That she had stolen not only gifts but also his belief that people could be honest. He asked how she could look at herself in the mirror knowing that she lived a lie every day. Victoria stopped crying. [music] She said quietly that he was right, that she was a terrible person, that she deserved to be punished.

 But she asked him to consider that she had not done it for herself, but for her mother, that any daughter would have done the same in her place. Khaled replied that any honest daughter would have found an honest [music] way. She took out a loan, applied to charitable foundations, asked the state for help, but Victoria chose deception.

The conversation lasted over an hour. Victoria no longer tried to run away. She sat on a deck chair by the pool, hugging her knees. Khaled paced back and forth, saying everything he had to say. At some point, his anger reached its peak. He shouted that no one had the right to humiliate his family, that she had disgraced his name, that she had to pay for it.

 Victoria stood up and said she understood his feelings, but she had to leave. She tried to walk past him. Khaled grabbed her arm and stopped her with a jerk. Victoria tried to break free. A struggle ensued between them. It wasn’t violent, but it was physical. Victoria tried to free herself. Khaled held her back.

 She scratched his hands and tried to push him away. He held her tight. They were standing at the edge of the pool. Victoria made a sudden movement, trying to pull her hand away. Khaled instinctively squeezed harder. Victoria lost her balance. Her foot slipped on the wet tiles at the edge. She fell backward. Khaled tried to hold her, but the momentum was too strong.

Victoria fell into the pool. The water was warm, but the impact was unexpected. Victoria sank completely and choked. She came up coughing, trying to stay afloat. Her dress was [music] wet and pulling her down. She was not a good swimmer. Her panic intensified. She floundered, choking on water.

 Khaled stood at the edge, watching. He didn’t jump into the water. He didn’t reach out his hand. He just watched her struggle. Victoria screamed, begged for help. She tried to swim to the edge, but her panic interfered with her coordination. She went under, came up, went under again. Her strength was running out. The guards stood at a distance.

 They saw what was happening but did not move. They waited for Khaled’s command. The command did not come. Khaled watched Victoria drown. There was cold fury in his eyes. He did not help. Perhaps he thought she would swim out on her own. Perhaps he wanted her to be truly afraid. Perhaps he wasn’t thinking at all, just watching.

Victoria sank under the water for the last time. She didn’t come up. The surface of the pool became smooth. Khaled watched for another [music] minute. Then he turned and went into the house. He told the guards that the evening was over and they could leave. The guards exchanged glances [music] but asked no questions.

 They left for the gate. In the morning, the maid came to work at 8:00. She started cleaning the terrace as usual. She saw something in the pool. She came closer and realized it was a body. She screamed. The gardener, who was working in the yard, ran over. They called the police. The first squad arrived 15 minutes later. The officers pulled the body out of the water.

 Victoria was lying face down, her hair disheveled, her dress torn, her skin was pale. The police pronounced her dead and cordoned off the area with tape. They called in the investigation team and the medical examiner. Khaled came out of the bedroom when he heard the sirens. He went down to the terrace and saw the police. He pretended to be shocked.

 He said he didn’t understand how it had happened. That yesterday they had had a peaceful dinner, drank champagne, and he had gone to bed around midnight. Victoria said she would stay a little longer. She wanted to sit by the pool. He suggested that she had drunk too much, lost her balance, and fallen into the water. A tragic accident. The investigator asked questions.

 Khaled answered calmly and confidently. He said that they were in a good relationship and were planning to get engaged. There were no conflicts, just a romantic evening that ended in tragedy. The investigator recorded his testimony. He asked about the surveillance cameras. Khaled replied that the system had not been working for the last 2 days [music] and they were waiting for a repair man.

The investigator nodded and made a note. The medical examiner arrived an hour later. He examined the body on the spot. The preliminary cause of death was drowning, but there were bruises on the body’s arms [music] and abrasions on the wrists. The expert noted this in the report.

 He told the investigator that a full examination was needed to determine whether these injuries were sustained before the fall into the water or during the drowning. The body was taken to the morg. The investigator finished examining the scene. He told Khaled that the investigation would continue and asked him to stay in touch.

 Khaled promised his full cooperation. The information about the death did not make it into the local media. In Dubai, news about incidents involving influential families is strictly controlled. There was only a dry entry in the police report. The Russian consulate learned of the death of a Russian citizen 3 days later when the police sent a standard notification.

 The consul arranged a meeting with the investigator. He demanded details. The investigator gave the official version. An accident. The girl fell into the pool while intoxicated and drowned. The consul asked about the bruises on her body. The investigator replied that they were probably caused by the fall or attempts to get out of the water.

 The consul was not satisfied with the explanation. He demanded an independent examination. He contacted Victoria’s mother in Russia. He informed her of her daughter’s death. At first, the mother did not believe it. Then she burst into tears. She demanded that her daughter’s body be returned so that she could be buried in Russia.

The consul promised to arrange for repatriation, but first the [music] investigation had to be completed. A Russian pathologist from the consulate was given permission to [music] attend the autopsy. He examined the body carefully. He confirmed drowning as the cause of death, but he noticed the nature of the bruises on her arms.

 They were consistent with someone holding her wrists tightly. The abrasions on her skin indicated a struggle. There were also traces of pressure on the neck, barely noticeable but present. The pathologist compiled a separate report. He indicated that the death may not have been accidental, that the physical evidence suggests a conflict before the fall into the water, that it is necessary to question witnesses [music] and verify the testimony of the villa owner.

 He forwarded the report to the consul. The consul sent a note of protest [music] to the Dubai police. He demanded that the investigation be expanded, that Khaled be questioned in more detail, and that witnesses [music] be found. The police replied that the investigation was being conducted properly, that the villa owner’s testimony [music] had been verified, that there was no reason to suspect foul play.

 The consul understood that the case would not progress any further. Khaled al- Maktum belonged to an influential family. His connections reached [music] the highest levels of power in the emirate. The police would not aggressively investigate [music] the death of a foreign woman at his villa without ironclad evidence of a crime.

 Khaled’s family contacted Victoria’s mother through a lawyer. They offered compensation of >> [music] >> $500,000 for the tragic loss. They also promised to pay all the costs of repatriating the body and the funeral in exchange for closing all questions and claims. Victoria’s mother initially refused. She said she wanted justice, not money.

 But the lawyers explained that it was impossible to prove anything. The cameras were not working. There were no witnesses. [music] The medical examination showed drowning and the bruises could have been caused by a fall. No criminal case would be opened. The most she would get was a protracted investigation that would end with the same result.

 The compensation would allow her to finish the treatment without worrying about money. The mother accepted the offer. She signed the document stating that she had no claims. The money was transferred to her account. Victoria’s body was taken to Russia. The funeral was attended by a small circle of relatives and friends. Her mother stood by the coffin looking at her daughter, not understanding what had really happened in Dubai.

Victoria’s Instagram profile remained active. The last post was 18 hours before her death. A photo on the terrace by the very pool where she drowned. A sunny morning. Victoria in a white dress smiling at the camera. The caption under the photo, I am living my best life. Emojis with a diamond and a star. Comments continued to appear under the post after her death.

 People wrote enthusiastic words, asked for advice, and admired her life. No one knew that the girl in the photo was dead, that her luxurious life was a carefully crafted lie. That behind the beautiful [music] pictures lay a story of deception, despair, and a tragic ending. Khaled closed the case with a compensation payment. Life returned to normal.

 He continued to build towers, meet with partners, and attend business events. No one in his circle knew the details of what had happened. The official version was a tragic accident involving a girl who was his guest. 19-year-old Ukrainian model Alina deliberately infected herself with HIV to take revenge on the man she believed was responsible for her older [music] sister’s death.

 This plan, which she had been hatching for over a year, was not an act [music] of desperation, but a coldly calculated operation in which her own life became the final and most compelling argument. This story did [music] not receive wide coverage in the global media. Its details were whispered in small circles, becoming the subject of rumors, but never the subject of an official investigation.

It all started two years ago with a phone call that divided Alena’s life into before and after. The voice on the other end of the line belonging to a representative of a modeling agency dryly and emotionlessly reported that her sister, 22-year-old Katarina, had been found dead in a hotel room in Dubai.

 The official cause of death was an overdose of illegal substances. For a family from a small Ukrainian town in which Katarina was the main hope and support, this news was a devastating blow. Katarina was not the type of girl prone to self-destruction. She was ambitious, disciplined, [music] and well aware that her appearance and reputation were her only assets.

She sent almost all of her earnings home, paid for her mother’s medical treatment, and dreamed of one day bringing her younger sister to live with her. The overdose theory seemed absurd and false to Alina. She began her own investigation, which was amateur-ish at first. She spent hours on forums where girls working in the escort and modeling business in the Middle East communicated anonymously.

She gathered information bit by bit, comparing facts and rumors. Soon the same name began to pop up in the correspondence. Prince Khaled al-Sawoud, an influential member of the Saudi royal family, a man in his late 50s, known for his specific tastes and enormous wealth. His name had been linked to several incidents involving the disappearance or sudden death of young women from Eastern Europe.

 But each time the case had been hushed up thanks to his connections and money. Alina discovered that Katarina had been on his yacht during the last week of her life. Officially, this had not been recorded anywhere. As Alina delved deeper into the dark world of elite escort services, she stumbled upon information about a private event known as the Pearl Circle.

 It was not just an escort service, but an underground auction where the world’s richest people bought the right to spend the first night with girls whose virginity had been confirmed by medical certificates. The auctions were held several times a year on giant super yachts cruising in neutral waters near Monaco. Prince Khaled was one of the regular and most generous clients of this circle.

 At that moment, the plan for revenge began to take on its monstrous form. Alina realized that she did not have the resources to fight the prince by legal means. Any accusations would be ridiculed and buried under tons of money from his lawyers. The only way to get to him was to become what he wanted most. She decided to become a lot at this auction. But her goal was not money.

 Her goal was his body, his blood, his future. Alina devoted the next year to methodical preparation. The first and most frightening step was deliberate infection. Through the same anonymous channels, she found a person who helped her do it. It was not an impulsive decision. She studied everything about the human immuno deficiency virus.

 She knew about the stages, the therapy, the life expectancy. She accepted the fact that her own life would be short and fraught with treatment. After becoming infected, she waited several months until the virus could be detected by tests and then obtained an official medical certificate from a private European clinic.

 This document became her main weapon. At the same time, she worked on her appearance, kept herself in shape, and took courses in etiquette and foreign languages. She had to look like the perfect catch. Innocent, educated, elegant. Using her sister’s remaining contacts and a [music] significant portion of her family’s savings, she was able to contact one of the agents who supplied girls to the Pearl Circle.

 She went through several stages of selection, interviews, psychological tests, and medical examinations by doctors trusted by [music] the organizers. Her cover story was flawless. a young model from a poor family who had preserved her innocence for [music] the sake of a bright future and was ready to sell it to save her family from poverty.

In the end, her photos and biography were included in a closed catalog for participants [music] in the next auction. The operation entered its active phase. Alina waited, knowing that Prince Khaled would definitely pay attention to her. She resembled her sister, but possessed a colder, more detached beauty, which she hoped would intrigue the jaded collector.

Alina’s calculation proved correct. As soon as Prince Khaled saw her photos in the catalog, he became obsessed. The girl was strikingly similar to Katarina, but there was a coldness in her gaze that he did not remember seeing in her sister. This mixture of the familiar and the new, of innocence and subtle audacity, ignited his collector’s passion.

 He immediately contacted his representatives and made it clear that this lot must be his, whatever the cost. The auction itself took place in an atmosphere of sterile luxury. No more than 30 men gathered on board the 150 m super yacht Oracle, drifting in international waters. All of them had undergone the strictest [music] vetting and were admitted to this exclusive club. No names, only numbers.

 Security was provided by former special services employees and all electronics were prohibited. The girls were not paraded on the catwalk like cattle. They were presented through highquality video portraits where they told a rehearsed story about themselves. This was followed by a short question and answer session with the organizers who read out questions from potential buyers.

 The bidding took place in complete silence via secure tablets. When Alena’s image appeared on the screen, the starting price [music] was set at $1 million. Within minutes, the price had risen to 3 million. Three people [music] participated in the auction. a representative of an Asian technology magnate, an elderly European aristocrat, [music] and Khaled himself.

When the bid reached $4 million, the two competitors withdrew. The prince, not wanting to leave any doubt about his superiority, made a final bid of $5 million. The deal was done. Within an hour, the money was transferred through a complex chain of offshore accounts. Alina was taken to [music] the prince’s cabin.

 He expected to see trembling and submission, perhaps tears. Instead, he was met with a calm, almost indifferent gaze. She behaved in a reserved and polite manner, but without the slightest hint of cervility. This coldness [music] intrigued and annoyed him at the same time. He was used to owning not only the bodies, but also the emotions of his acquired property.

 That same night, they flew on his private jet [music] to the Maldes to one of the islands he owned outright. It was his personal paradise, protected from prying eyes. The flight passed in silence. Alina spent most of the time looking out the window, showing neither fear nor interest in her companion. Upon arrival on the island, they were greeted by silent staff.

 Everything was prepared for a weekend that, as the prince assumed, would be another pleasant addition [music] to his collection of memories. He took Alina to the main villa located on the ocean shore. The surroundings were luxurious, but the girl showed no enthusiasm. She behaved as if all this was common place for her.

 After a night spent together, Prince Khaled woke up alone. This did not surprise him. Girls often woke up earlier and waited for him in the living room. But something about the silence in the house alarmed him. He got up and saw a neatly folded piece of paper on the pillow next to his. It was a note written in calligraphic handwriting in English.

 My sister sends her regards from the other side. Welcome to my world. You have 10 years left to live if you’re lucky. At first, he took it as a bad joke, but next to the note was another document folded in four. It was an official certificate from a Swiss clinic with seals and signatures. He unfolded it. In the diagnosis column was the abbreviation, HIV positive.

The prince felt a chill inside. He reread the diagnosis several times, but the letters did not change. He rushed to the phone and with a trembling voice ordered his personal doctor who was always on the island to come to the villa immediately with an HIV rapid test. While he waited, his world built on power, money, and impunity began to crumble.

 He remembered Alena’s cold gaze, her strange calmness. It was not the behavior of a victim. It was the behavior of an executioner. The doctor arrived a few minutes later. The test was done in complete silence. 15 minutes of waiting seemed like an eternity to the prince. When two lines appeared on the small plastic strip, the doctor turned pale and couldn’t say a word.

For Khaled al-Saud, a man who considered himself invulnerable, it was a death sentence. The panic that gripped the prince was anim animalistic, irrational. In an instant, he had gone from being an almighty ruler to a carrier of a deadly disease. His first reaction was to order a search for Alina.

 He summoned his security chief, a former British special air service officer, and ordered him to seal off the island. But it was too late. A quick search of the area revealed that Alina had left the island several hours earlier. A small speedboat was missing from one of the secluded docks [music] used by the staff.

 The CCTV cameras at the dock had been professionally disabled without any signs of tampering. It became clear that her escape had been as carefully planned as everything else. She hadn’t just disappeared, she had vanished. Probably another vessel was waiting for her in the open sea, which took her beyond the territorial waters of the Maldes.

 While security guards searched the surrounding atalss without success, Prince Khaled tried to comprehend the scale of the disaster. He was known for his numerous and promiscuous relationships. His entourage included not only escort girls, but also the wives of business partners, actresses, and representatives of the political elite.

 Dozens of faces flashed through his mind. He realized that he was not just sick, but a biological bomb planted in the very heart of the global establishment. Every contact he had made in recent months was now at risk. The consequences for his reputation and business could be not just devastating, but fatal.

 He ordered his team to launch an immediate but completely secret operation to inform his most recent partners. It was a delicate mission that required extreme caution to avoid leaks to the press. A week after the incident, an anonymous package arrived at the editorial office of a major European news agency. Inside was a flash drive. It contained a single video file and several documents, including a copy of Alena’s medical report and a brief description of the auction on the Oracle yacht.

Realizing the explosive nature of the material, the editorial office launched its own investigation. Journalists contacted several sources in the world of elite escorts and special services. Although no one agreed to speak on the record, the information was confirmed anonymously. The story began to leak into closed Telegram channels and blogs specializing in investigations.

 The major media outlets remained silent for the time being, fearing lawsuits from the prince and lacking 100% proof. But the smoke had already started to rise. Khaled’s business partners were the first to react. In the financial world, rumors spread faster than news. Several large investment funds from the US and Europe suspended their participation in joint projects with the prince without explanation.

 Shares in his holding company listed on the London Stock Exchange fell 30% in 2 days amid negative information expectations. The prince’s financial empire began to crack. At the same time, human rights organizations in several European countries, having received the same anonymous information, filed requests with the police to reopen investigations into the disappearances of several girls from Eastern Europe, who were last seen in the prince’s entourage.

 Among these cases was that of Katarina, Alena’s sister. Investigators [music] who had previously closed these cases due to lack of evidence were forced to reopen them under public pressure. New details that had previously been ignored began to surface. For example, it turned out that the doctor who signed Katarina’s death certificate due to an overdose received a large money transfer from an account affiliated with Khaled a month later.

 The scandal itself dealt a blow not only to the prince but to the entire underground auction industry. The organizers of the Pearl Circle panicked, canceled all planned events, and went into hiding. The security and confidentiality on which their business was built were irrevocably compromised. Clients whose names could have come up during the investigation began to hastily sever all ties with the organizers.

The culmination of the information campaign was the appearance of Alena’s video message. It was published simultaneously on several platforms, including a specially created one-page website and anonymously sent to dozens of leading global media outlets. The video was recorded in a very simple manner.

 The girl sat in front of the camera against a neutral white wall. She was dressed in simple clothes and wore no makeup. She looked tired but spoke calmly without pathos or tremor in her voice. Her speech lasted just over 10 minutes. In a calm, almost monotonous voice, she told the story of her sister Katarina.

 She did not cry or raise her voice, but simply stated the facts. [music] how her sister dreamed of escaping poverty, how she ended up in Dubai, how she was last seen in the company of Prince Khaled, and how a few days later her body was returned to her family in a closed coffin with a conclusion of death by overdose. Alina talked about her own investigation, about the Pearl Circle system, and how impunity and power allow people like the prince to destroy lives without consequences.

Then she moved on to her revenge. “I knew that no court in the world would convict him,” she said, looking straight into the camera. “His money and connections can buy any silence and any decision. So I decided to pass my own sentence. I used the only weapon I had, my body. I infected myself with HIV and sold him not just a knight, but a mirror image of the fate he had condemned my sister [music] and many other girls to.

He bought life and innocence but got death. This is not terrorism. This is justice as I see it. She ended her speech by saying that she understands the price of her actions and is ready to pay it, but hopes that her story will make the world pay attention to the shadow industry [music] in which women are nothing more than commodities.

This video became the spark that lit the fuse. In a few hours, it gained millions of views. All the major news channels from CNN to the BBC aired breaking news reports dedicated to this scandal. The story of the billionaire prince and the vengeful model became the main topic of the day around the world.

 Khaled’s lawyers immediately issued an official statement calling the video a monstrous lie and a planned campaign of discrediting and extortion. They described Alina as an unstable [music] personality with criminal tendencies. They announced that they would file defamation suits against all media outlets that would disseminate this information.

 However, this attempt to defend [music] themselves failed. Against the backdrop of Alena’s calm and convincing performance, the prince’s official statements looked like clumsy [music] excuses from the guilty party. Public opinion was clearly on the girl’s side. The scandal caused irreparable damage to the Saudi royal family.

 Although no official comments were made, unofficial sources revealed that Khaled had been summoned to [music] a family council where he was given an ultimatum. He was forced to withdraw completely from all business, [music] transfer control of his assets to trusted individuals, and cease all public appearances. He was effectively placed under unofficial house arrest in one of his palaces in Riad.

 He was deprived of access to most of his fortune, leaving him only with the funds necessary to support himself and pay for medical treatment. His family distanced themselves from him, turning him into an outcast and a toxic asset that needed to be disposed of as quickly as possible. To the outside world, Prince Khaled al-Saud simply disappeared from the radar.

 His name ceased to appear in society columns [music] and financial reports. He became a ghost locked in a golden cage. At the same time, investigations in Europe gained momentum. Alena’s testimony [music] gave investigators a powerful boost. Several former employees of escort agencies who had worked with the prince inspired by her actions, agreed to give anonymous testimony.

 They confirmed the existence of the auction system, and spoke of abuse and suspicious [music] incidents on Khaled’s yachts. Katarina’s death was officially reclassified and the German prosecutor’s office, of which one of the managers of the Pearl Circle was a citizen by second [music] passport, issued an international arrest warrant for him.

The chain reaction set off by Alina was already irreversible. A year and a half after the video message was published, the world had almost forgotten about this story. The media hype died down, giving way to new scandals. Alina, as promised, disappeared. According to rumors, she found refuge in one of the countries of Southeast Asia, which has no extradition agreement with Saudi Arabia.

 She lived under a different [music] name, regularly undergoing anti-retroviral therapy. She used the money she received from the prince, the very same $5 million, to support organizations that help victims of human trafficking through anonymous funds. She did not give interviews or make contact. Her mission was complete and she was simply living out her life.

 For her, it was not a tragedy. She had made a conscious choice and now calmly accepted its consequences. There was no room for regret in her life. She had avenged her sister in the only way available to her, and it brought her a grim but firm satisfaction. Meanwhile, Prince Khaled Al-Saud was fading away in complete isolation.

 He lived in a luxurious palace under roundthe-clock surveillance by guards who were assigned to him more as jailers than as protectors. Modern therapy allowed him to control the development of HIV. But his psychological state was destroyed. A man accustomed to [music] unlimited power and adoration found himself in a complete social vacuum.

 His former friends and partners avoided even mentioning his name. His family completely cut him out of their lives. He grew old alone, surrounded by servants who were afraid to look him in the eye. His only companions were doctors who reminded him daily of his vulnerability. [music] He spent his days looking at old photos and videos of himself when he was young, healthy, and all powerful.

 The memory of that night in the Maldes and Alina’s cold stare became his personal hell. The results of the investigations initiated by the scandal were ambiguous. The manager of the Pearl Circle, who was arrested in Germany, made a deal with the investigators. He provided information about the structure of the organization, its clients, and financial schemes.

 This led to several high-profile, but mainly financial scandals. Several well-known businessmen and politicians were forced to resign or pay huge fines for participating in illegal financial transactions related to the auctions. However, [music] it was not possible to prove that any of them were involved in violent crimes.

 Too much time had been lost and there was no direct evidence. The cases of the disappearance and death of the girls, including Katarina, remained unsolved in the legal sense of the word. No one officially accused Prince Khaled of murder. Without Alena’s testimony, which she could not give in court without risking her freedom and her life, it was impossible to prove his guilt.

 Thus, formal justice was not served. Nevertheless, the effect of Alina’s actions went far beyond the legal framework. The entire underground industry of elite escort services was set [music] back decades. The reputational risks became too high even for the most powerful clients. Alena’s story became a kind of cautionary tale told in the corridors of power and big business.

 A warning that even absolute power has its limits and that a cornered victim can be more dangerous than [music] any predator. The final frame of this story was not captured by any camera. It exists only in the imagination of those who know its details. an aged, sick, and lonely prince in his gilded mausoleum. And somewhere on the other side of the world, a young woman watching his slow demise on her laptop screen.

 Her revenge did not bring her happiness or a long life, but it did bring her peace. She restored justice as she saw fit, paying the highest price for it. A 19-year-old Filipino woman was found dead in the desert alongside [music] her friend a few weeks after marrying an influential Dubai shake.

 Both had been shot in the head. Lyanna [music] Raymond grew up in the small village of San Miguel on the island of Luzon in a province where most families live on a few dollars a day. Her father worked in the rice fields. Her mother sold vegetables at the local market. There were five children in the family and Lyanna was the eldest.

 Their home was a simple hut with bamboo walls and a palm leaf roof. Electricity was intermittent and there was no running water. The girl finished local school at the age of 16 and began helping her mother at the market. She earned about $20 a week. This money was barely enough to feed the family.

 Her younger brothers and sisters could not continue their education due to a lack of funds for school supplies and uniforms. Lyanna’s father suffered from chronic back pain after an injury at work, but the family did not have the money for treatment. There was a small agency in the village that helped local girls find work abroad.

 Many left for the Persian Gulf countries to work as housekeepers or nannies. The pay there was dozens of times higher than in the Philippines. Families who received remittances from daughters working in Dubai or Abu Dhabi could afford to renovate their homes, buy motorcycles, and pay for their younger children’s education. Maria Santos had been Lyanna’s friend since childhood.

 They grew up on neighboring streets, went to school together, and spent all their free time with each other. Maria’s family was even poorer. Her father died of malaria when she was 12, leaving her mother alone with four children. Maria was forced to drop out of school at 14 to help her family. She worked as a cleaner in a local hotel, earning about $15 a week.

When Maria turned 18, she contacted the same agency and left for Dubai to work as a housekeeper. The contract was for 2 years with a salary of $400 a month. She sent most of the money to her mother. Maria’s employer was a wealthy family from the Jumeira area. The house had eight bedrooms, a swimming pool, and a large garden.

 Maria was responsible for cleaning and working in the kitchen. The working day lasted from 6:00 in the morning until 10 at night with virtually no days off. Lyanna stayed in the Philippines and continued to work at the market. The girls kept in touch via instant messengers. Maria told her about life in Dubai, about the wealth of local families, about how much money was spent on things that would be considered incredible luxuries in the Philippines.

She described cars worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, jewelry, clothes from world famous designers and houses the size of an entire neighborhood in their village. A year after Maria’s departure, Lyanna’s family’s financial situation deteriorated. Her father completely lost his ability to work due to progressive back problems.

 The family’s income fell to a critical level. Lyanna’s mother began to take small loans from neighbors to buy food. The debts grew. The younger children were starving. Lyanna understood that the situation required radical measures. She contacted an agency and asked them to find her a job in Dubai. An agency employee, a middle-aged man in a white shirt, sat at an old wooden table and leafed through a folder of documents.

 He explained that demand for Filipino domestic workers had declined and competition was high. Salaries had fallen to $350 a month, but there were other options, he said. Options that could bring in much more money. The agency sometimes received offers from wealthy Arab men looking for wives from Southeast Asia.

 Such marriages were legal under Islamic law, which allowed a man to have up to four wives at the same time. Filipino women were in demand because of their youth, submissiveness, [music] and willingness to convert to Islam. The bride’s families were paid a mahar, a wedding ransom, which could range from $50 to $150,000 depending on the girl’s age and appearance.

 An agency employee took a photo out of a folder. The picture showed an elderly man in traditional white clothing and a red and white headscarf. He had a gray beard, dark eyes, and wrinkles on his face. The man was 65 years old. His name was Khaled Al-Manssuri. He was a member of an influential family clan that owned several construction companies and large trackcts of land [music] in Dubai.

 His fortune was estimated at tens of millions of dollars. Khaled already had three wives. The first was his cousin and they had been married for over 40 years. He had five adult children with her. His second wife had given birth to three children. The third, much younger, was from Syria and had joined the family 10 years ago.

 Khaled had no children with his third wife, and now he was looking for a fourth, his last wife, according to Islamic law. The agency sent Khaled several profiles [music] of young Filipino women who were willing to consider a marriage proposal. Among them was Lyanna’s profile with several photos. In the pictures, the girl looked shy with long dark hair and large brown eyes. Khaled chose her.

 He told the agency representative that the girl looked modest and well-mannered, just as the wife of a devout Muslim should be. The agency contacted Lyanna’s family. An employee came to their village and presented the offer to the girl’s father. The dowy would be $100,000. Half of the amount would be paid immediately after signing the contract and the other half would be transferred after the wedding.

 Lyanna would have to convert to Islam, learn the basic prayers and rules of conduct for a Muslim wife. The agency would arrange all the necessary documents, visa, and flight. Lyanna’s father was Catholic like most of the residents of their village. The idea that his daughter would convert to another religion and marry an elderly foreigner with three wives seemed alien to him.

 But he looked at his starving younger children, at his wife who cried at night because of their debts, at his own hands that could no longer work. $50,000 would solve all the family’s problems for many years to come. He called Lyanna and explained the situation to her. The girl listened silently.

 She understood that she had no real choice. The family was starving. Her younger brothers and sisters went to school without shoes because there was no money for new ones. Her mother had sold all her jewelry. The neighbors refused to give them new loans because the old debts had not been [music] repaid. If Lyanna refused, the family would be out on the street in a few months. Lyanna agreed.

 She told her father that she was ready to do it for them. That same evening, she wrote a long message to Maria. She told her about the proposal, that she had accepted it, and how scary the thought of marrying a strange old man was. Maria replied a few hours later. She wrote that she understood Lyanna, that she would have been in her shoes if she had received such an offer.

 Then she added that the employers she worked for were acquainted with the Al-Manssori family. They were very wealthy and influential people in Dubai. The next two weeks were spent preparing. A representative from the agency visited Lyanna every day. He taught her basic Arabic phrases, explained the rules of behavior in a Muslim family, told her how to dress, how to talk to elders, and how to behave with her husband.

Lyanna had to be submissive, quiet, and obedient. She was not to argue with her husband, raise her voice, or leave the house without permission. Her task was to serve her husband, bear children, and keep the house in order. Lyanna also had to undergo a formal ceremony to convert to Islam.

 The agency arranged a meeting with a local imam, a Filipino, who had himself converted to Islam 20 years earlier. The Imam explained the basics of the faith to the girl and taught her to recite the [music] shahada, the testimony of faith. Lyanna repeated the words in Arabic, not fully understanding their meaning. The Imam issued her a certificate of conversion to Islam, which was necessary for the marriage to take place.

 The agency transferred the first half of the mahar to Lyanna’s father’s account, $50,000, an amount the family had never seen in their entire lives. Her father paid off all his debts, bought medicine for his back, paid for his younger children’s education for a year in advance, [music] and repaired the roof of the house. He deposited the remaining money in a local bank.

 Lyanna’s mother cried with relief and guilt at the same time. She understood that her daughter [music] was sacrificing herself for the sake of the family. The day before her departure, Lyanna met with Maria, who had flown to the Philippines, especially for a short vacation. They walked around the village and sat on the riverbank where they had spent time as children.

 Maria held Lyanna’s hand [music] and said that soon they would be together again in Dubai, that it wouldn’t be long, that everything would work out for them. Lyanna asked what exactly would work out. Maria replied that she had a plan. Khaled is very rich. His family owns real estate, accounts, businesses. If Lyanna became his wife, she would have access to some of these resources.

Maria worked in the home of friends of the Al-Manssuri family, so she knew how the lives of wealthy Arabs were arranged. Wives had their own money, their own jewelry, their own accounts. Khaled would give Lyanna money for expenses. Over time, she will be able to save enough for them both to return to the Philippines and start a new life.

 A life where they won’t have to hide. Lyanna listened and nodded. She asked how long it would take. Maria said a year, maybe two. They would have to be careful, not arouse suspicion, and save money discreetly. Khaled must not suspect anything. Lyanna must be the perfect wife, quiet, submissive, grateful, and then when they had saved enough, they would disappear.

 They would fly back to the Philippines to another province where no one knew them. They would buy a small house and open a shop or a cafe. They would live together as they had always dreamed. Lyanna asked if it was dangerous. Maria replied that it was dangerous, but they had no other choice. They couldn’t be together in the Philippines.

 Their families, their village, their church would never accept their relationship. It wasn’t possible in Dubai either. But there was money there. Money that would give them freedom. They just had to be patient and careful. On the last night before her departure, Lyanna hardly slept. She lay in her bed and stared at the ceiling.

 She heard her father snoring in the next room, her younger brothers and sisters tossing and turning. She thought about how she would never see this house, this village, these people again. that tomorrow she would fly to another country, to a stranger who would become her husband, a man three times her age, a man who already had three wives and eight children, a man she had only seen in a photograph.

In the morning, the whole family took Lyanna to the airport. Her mother cried incessantly. The younger children clung to their sister’s hands. Her father stood aside with a stony face. Lyanna hugged each of them, saying that everything would be fine, that she would write to them every week, that they would see each other again soon.

 She didn’t believe these words, but she kept repeating them. An agency representative accompanied Lyanna to Dubai. On the plane, the girl sat by the window and watched the Philippine Islands disappear below her. rice fields, villages, rivers, everything she knew, everything that was her life. The plane rose above the clouds and only the sea remained below them. The flight lasted about 8 hours.

Lyanna was too nervous to eat. The agency representative tried to calm her down, saying that the Almansuri family was very respected, that they would treat her well, that she was lucky. Lyanna nodded silently. When the plane landed in Dubai, it was early morning. Lyanna was taken through passport control and her luggage was checked by customs.

 At the airport exit, they were met by a driver in a black suit. He took Lyanna’s suitcase and led them to the car. It was a large black SUV with tinted windows and leather seats. They drove along a wide highway. Skyscrapers, shopping malls, and hotels flashed by outside the window. Lyanna had never seen anything like it. The buildings were huge, sparkling, and seemed unreal.

 The roads were perfectly clean, the cars expensive. Everything looked like the set of a movie about the future. The driver turned off the main road into a residential area. Here there were villas surrounded by high walls, palm trees, manicured lawns, flowering shrubs. The car stopped in front of a massive row iron gate. The driver pressed a button and the gate slowly opened.

 Behind the gates was a spacious courtyard paved with light colored stone. In the middle was a fountain surrounded by palm trees growing in large ceramic pots. The house itself was two stories high, light beige in color with large windows and columns at the entrance. It was a villa that could accommodate 20 houses from the village of Lyana.

 An elderly woman in a black abaya with gold embroidery stood at the entrance. Her face was covered with a nikub. Only her eyes were visible. It was Khaled’s first wife. She silently looked Lyanna up and down, then gestured for her to follow her. Inside the house, it was cool from the air conditioning. The floors were white marble.

 The walls were decorated with Arabic calligraphy and gold frames, and the furniture was dark wood with carvings. The first wife led Lyanna through the living room, then up the stairs to the second floor. They walked down a long corridor and stopped at a door at the end. The woman opened the door and showed Lyanna the room. It was a spacious bedroom with a large bed, a wardrobe, a dressing table, and a separate bathroom.

 The windows overlooked a courtyard with a garden. The first wife said something in Arabic, but Lyanna didn’t understand a word. The woman repeated it more slowly, but that didn’t help. Then she simply pointed to the bed, the wardrobe, and the bathroom, and left, closing the door behind her. Lyanna was left alone.

 She sat down on the edge of the bed and looked around. The room was larger than her family’s entire house in the Philippines. The bed was soft. The sheets were snow white. The bathroom had a huge bathtub, a marble sink, and a mirror covering the entire wall. There were new towels on the shelves and bottles of perfume and cosmetics on the dressing table.

 Lyanna went to the window. Below was a garden with fruit trees, rose bushes, [music] and stone paths. In the corner of the garden, she saw a small building that looked like a guest house. Perhaps the servants lived there. She thought of Maria. The girl worked not far from here. Maybe they would see each other soon.

Lyanna took out her phone and wrote Maria a message. She told her that she had arrived, [music] that she had been brought to the house, and that she was in her room. Maria replied almost immediately. She wrote that she was glad Lyanna was safe, that she needed to be quiet and obedient, [music] that they would see each other soon.

In the evening, a young maid came for Lyanna. The girl was from Indonesia and spoke broken English. She brought Lyanna an abaya and a hijab and explained with gestures what she needed to put on. Lyanna changed. The abaya was made of thin black fabric, and the hijab covered her hair and neck.

 The maid nodded approvingly and motioned for her to follow her. They went down to the dining room on the first floor. A long table was set with food. There were dishes with rice, meat, vegetables, bread, and fruit. Several people were sitting at the table. The first wife was at the head of the table. Next to her were two men in their 30s, probably Khaled’s sons.

 Further down sat two women in hijabs, one of them holding a child in her arms. Two more children sat on high chairs. Everyone was speaking Arabic. Lyanna was seated at the end of the table. Everyone fell silent and looked at her. The first wife said something. Everyone nodded and continued eating. Lyanna picked up a fork, but the maid stopped her and showed her that she had to eat with her hands like everyone else.

 Lyanna tried to repeat the action but it was uncomfortable and [music] awkward. Khaled was not at the table. Lyanna wanted to ask about him but did not know how. After dinner, everyone dispersed. The maid accompanied Lyanna back to her room. The girl lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. She didn’t know what would happen next, when she would see Khaled, when the wedding would take place.

 what would be expected of her. The next morning, the maid woke Lyanna up. She brought breakfast on a tray and left it on the table by the window. After breakfast, the first wife arrived with an interpreter, a young man in a white shirt and jeans. He explained that he was Khaled’s nephew and would help Lyanna with translation until she learned Arabic.

The first wife said through the interpreter that the wedding would [music] take place in 3 days. Until then, Lyanna had to stay in her room, study prayers, and prepare. A teacher would come to her and [music] teach her the basics of the Islamic faith and the duties of a wife. After the wedding, she would become a full member of the family and Khaled’s fourth wife.

 The next [music] three days were a blur. An elderly imam came to see Lyanna every day. He spoke English with a strong accent and explained to her the rules of Islamic marriage, the duties of a wife, and the importance of obeying her husband. Lyanna listened and nodded. Although much of what he said frightened her, the Imam said that a wife must obey her husband in everything, that a husband has the right to punish his wife if she disobys, and that a wife’s main duty is to bear children and serve her husband.

On the evening of the third day, the wedding took place. It was a small ceremony at home, attended only by family members and a few close friends of Khaled. Lyanna was dressed in a luxurious golden wedding dress embroidered with stones. Her hair was styled. Her face was made up. She did not recognize herself in the mirror.

 The ceremony took place in the large living room. Lyanna sat on a chair surrounded by women from her family. The imam recited prayers [music] in Arabic. Then Khaled was brought in. He was dressed in snow white clothes. His beard [music] was neatly trimmed and he smelled of expensive perfume.

 He sat down opposite Lyanna, looked at her appraisingly, and nodded with satisfaction. The Imam asked Khaled a question, and he answered in the affirmative. Then the imam addressed Lyanna through an interpreter. He asked if she agreed to become the wife of Khaled al-Manssuri. Lyanna looked at all the unfamiliar faces around her, at Khaled with his gray beard and cold eyes, at the luxurious house that was now her cage.

She thought of her family in the Philippines, of the $50,000 that had saved them from poverty. She thought about Maria, who was waiting for her, about the plan they had to carry out. She said yes. The imam recited a few more prayers and the marriage was sealed. The guests congratulated Khaled and the women hugged Lyanna.

 A table was set with food, but Lyanna hardly ate anything. She felt as if none of this was happening to her, as if she were [music] watching someone else’s life from the outside. Late in the evening, when the guests had left, Khaled approached Lyanna. He took her by the hand, his palm dry and rough. He gestured for her to follow him.

 He led her up the stairs to the second floor, but not to her room, to his. His bedroom was huge, with a bed larger than Lyanna’s entire room in the Philippines. He closed the door. Khaled spoke in broken English. He said that Lyanna was now his wife and had to fulfill her duties. Lyanna stood motionless, not knowing what to do.

 Khaled came closer and began to remove her jewelry. His movements were slow and methodical. Lyanna closed her eyes and thought about anything but what was happening. She thought about the sea, about the rice fields at home, about Maria. Lyanna hardly slept that night. Khaled fell asleep quickly, his breathing heavy and hoarse.

 Lyanna lay next to him and stared into the darkness. When dawn broke, she quietly got up and returned to her room. She sat on the bed and sat motionless for a long time, staring at one spot. In the days that followed, a certain routine was established. Lyanna had to wake up early, perform her morning prayers, [music] and then go down to breakfast with the rest of the family.

She sat silently, ate little, [music] and answered questions monoselabically through the interpreter. The first wife treated her coldly, but without open hostility. The second and third wives paid little attention to her. Khaled’s children, grown men and women, looked at her with curiosity or [music] indifference.

 During the day, Lyanna spent her time in her room or in the garden. She was not allowed to leave the villa unaccompanied. Khaled gave her a credit card for shopping, but there was nothing to buy and [music] no one to buy it for. A maid brought her food, did her laundry, and cleaned her room. Lyanna tried to talk to her, but the girl spoke only Indonesian and a few Arabic phrases.

 In the evening, Khaled usually summoned Lyanna to his room. Sometimes he just talked to her through an interpreter asking how she was feeling, whether she liked life in Dubai, whether she was happy. Lyanna replied that everything was fine, that she was grateful to him for everything. Khaled seemed satisfied with her answers.

 He said she was a good girl, obedient, and modest. That’s exactly what a Muslim wife should be like. A week passed. Lyanna wrote to her parents that everything was fine, that she was being treated well, that she was happy. It was a lie, but she couldn’t write the truth. Her family had received the money, and their lives had changed.

 She couldn’t ruin that. Her mother replied with long messages, telling her how they had renovated the house, bought new furniture, and enrolled the younger children in a good school. Her father had found a job as a security guard at a local store, and his back hurt [music] less after treatment. Lyanna also wrote to Maria every day, short messages about how her day went, what she ate, what she did.

 Maria rarely replied, usually late at night when she finished work. She wrote that she was very tired, that her employers were demanding that she missed Lyanna. She promised that they would see each other soon. 2 weeks after the wedding, Khaled announced that his first wife’s family was hiring new servants.

 They needed a girl to work in the kitchen and help around the house. His first wife was no longer young, and it was difficult for her to cope with all the chores. Khaled asked Lyanna through an interpreter if she knew anyone from the Philippines who was looking for work. Lyanna replied that she had a friend who was currently working for another family, but would like to change jobs.

Khaled said he could arrange for the contract to be transferred if the girl was a good worker. Lyanna assured him that Maria was very hardworking and responsible. Khaled nodded and said he would contact the right people. 3 days later, Maria’s contract was transferred to the Al-Manssuri family. Her former employers did not object because Khaled’s family was influential and it would have been unwise to refuse them.

Maria arrived at the villa on Saturday morning. Lyanna watched from her bedroom window as the driver brought her in his car. Maria got out with a suitcase and a bag. She was dressed in simple jeans and a t-shirt, her hair tied back in a ponytail. The maid showed her into the house and showed her the servants’s quarters in a separate building in the garden.

 Lyanna couldn’t approach Maria right away. That would have aroused suspicion. She had to act as if they were just acquaintances, not close friends. She waited all day for the moment when she could see Maria. In the evening, when everyone had left after dinner, Lyanna went out into the garden. She pretended to be taking a walk. She approached the servants’s quarters and knocked quietly on the door.

 Maria opened it. They stood and looked at each other for a few seconds. Then Maria pulled Lyanna inside and closed the door. She hugged her tightly. Lyanna felt all the tension of the last few weeks leave her. They sat down on the narrow bed in Maria’s small room. The room was simple, only a few square meters.

 A bed, a wardrobe, a small window. Maria asked how Lyanna was feeling. Lyanna said she was fine. Maria looked at her closely and said she knew that wasn’t true. Lyanna began to cry. Everything she had been holding back these weeks came [music] pouring out. She told Maria about the wedding, about Khaled, about how she hated every minute in this house.

 Maria hugged her and said that it would all be over soon, that they just had to hold on a little longer. They agreed to meet at night when everyone was asleep. Lyanna would climb out of her bedroom window, which was on the first floor, into the garden. They had to be very careful. No one could find out about their meetings. In the eyes of the family, Lyanna had to remain an obedient [music] wife and Maria just a servant.

The following weeks passed in this double existence. During the day, Lyanna played the role of Khaled’s wife. She prayed, sat with the family, smiled when necessary. In the evenings, she went to Khaled and let him do what he wanted. She closed her eyes and thought about something else.

 Khaled either didn’t notice her absent gaze or didn’t pay attention to it. To him, she was an obedient body performing a function. At night, after midnight, when the house fell asleep, Lyanna quietly climbed out of the window. The garden was dark with only a few lanterns lighting the paths. She quickly made her way to the servants’s quarters.

 Maria was always waiting for her. They spent an hour or two together whispering, holding hands. Those were the only hours when Lyanna felt alive. Maria worked in the kitchen from 6:00 in the morning. She prepared breakfast, helped with lunch and dinner, washed the dishes, and cleaned the dining room.

 There was a lot of work, and the first wife watched everything closely and strictly. Maria did not complain. She told Lyanna that the main thing now was that they were together and that nothing else mattered. They began to discuss a plan. Lyanna had to save money. Khaled gave her a card for shopping and she could withdraw small amounts of cash so as not to arouse suspicion. $500 once a week.

 She said she was buying clothes, cosmetics, and gifts for her family in the Philippines. Khaled didn’t check. He was so rich that these amounts seemed insignificant to him. In a month, Lyanna had saved about $3,000. She hid the money in a suitcase with a false bottom, which she made by cutting open the lining.

 Maria also saved her salary, $400 a month. She sent $200 to her mother and hid the rest. They calculated that in 6 months they could save about 15,000. That would be enough to buy tickets to the Philippines, rent a house in another province, and start a small business. But 6 months is a long time. Too long. Lyanna felt she couldn’t hold out that long.

 Every evening with Khaled became more and more difficult. She started taking sleeping pills, which she secretly took from his first wife’s medicine cabinet. She drank before going to Khalid to feel detached, as if it wasn’t happening to her. Maria noticed the changes in Lyanna. The girl became silent, her gaze dull. She hardly ate and lost weight.

 Dark circles appeared under her eyes. Maria became concerned. One night when Lyanna came to her, Maria asked her directly how long she could live like this. Lyanna said she didn’t know. Maybe a month, maybe less. Maria made a decision. She said they wouldn’t wait 6 months. they would leave earlier. They already had about $4,000, which would be enough for tickets and the first few months.

 They could leave in a few weeks. Lyanna asked how exactly. Maria said she had an acquaintance, a driver from Bangladesh who worked for her neighbors. He could take them to the airport early in the morning when everyone was asleep. They would fly to Manila, then travel to another province. No one would find them there. Lyanna listened and felt hope rising inside her.

 Real tangible hope that this nightmare would soon be over. She asked when exactly they could leave. Maria said in 2 weeks. They needed to prepare the documents, buy tickets online, and make arrangements with the driver. Lyanna nodded. 2 weeks. 14 days. She could hold out for another 14 days. Lyanna counted the hours over the next few days.

 She behaved as usual so as not to arouse suspicion. She prayed, ate with her family, and talked to Khaled through an interpreter. But inside, all her thoughts were of escape. Maria bought tickets for a flight to Manila, departing on Saturday at 6:00 in [music] the morning. They made arrangements with the driver, who agreed to take them for $200.

 Maria said they needed to leave at 4:00 in the morning to make it to check in on time. There were 5 days left. Lyanna packed her things into a backpack, a minimum of clothes, documents, money. Maria also packed a bag. They were ready. [music] Each night brought them closer to freedom. But after 3 days, something changed. Khaled began to behave differently.

 He started watching Lyanna more closely. He asked strange questions. He asked where she went in the evenings, why she didn’t sleep at night. Lyanna replied that she just walked in the garden because she couldn’t sleep. Khaled looked at her for a long time, studying her, then nodded and let her go. Lyanna became worried.

She wrote to Maria that Khaled suspected something. Maria replied that they needed to be even more careful, that there were only 2 days left, that they had to hold out. On Thursday evening, Khaled did not call Lyanna to his room. This was strange as he usually called her every evening. Lyanna stayed in her room and waited, but no one came.

 She went to bed, but could not sleep. Something was wrong. On Friday morning, Khaled’s [music] first wife came for Lyanna. She had an interpreter with her. The woman said through him that Lyanna had to go with her to the mall. They needed to buy new clothes and gifts for the family. Lyanna was surprised.

 She usually never left the house, but she couldn’t refuse. She nodded and went to [music] get dressed. They drove in a car with a driver. The first wife sat silently [music] looking out the window. Lyanna tried to talk to her through the interpreter, but the woman answered in mono syllables. They arrived at a large shopping center and spent several hours there.

 The first wife bought things, showed Lyanna dresses and jewelry, but didn’t buy anything for her. They returned home in the evening. Lyanna immediately went to her room. She wrote to Maria that they were leaving tomorrow, that she needed to be ready at 4:00 in the morning. Maria replied an hour later. She wrote that everything was ready, that the driver would be waiting at the gate.

Lyanna didn’t eat dinner. She told the maid that she wasn’t feeling well, that she had a headache. She lay down on the bed and waited. She listened to the sounds of the house, how everything gradually quieted down, how the lights in the [music] rooms were turned off, how silence fell. At midnight, Lyanna got up.

 She put on dark clothes and took her backpack. She went to the window and carefully opened it. She listened. Silence. She climbed over the windowsill and jumped into the garden. The grass was wet from the evening watering. Lyanna quickly went to the servants’s quarters. She knocked quietly. No one answered. She knocked again. Silence. Lyanna tried to open the door.

 It was unlocked. She opened it and went inside. The room was empty. The bed was neatly made. The wardrobe was open. Maria’s things were gone. There was a note on the table. Lyanna picked it up with trembling hands. The note was in English and the handwriting was not Maria’s. There were only a few words written on it. Go back to your room immediately.

Lyanna stood with the note in her hands. Her heart was beating so hard that she could hear it pounding in her ears. Maria was gone. Her things were gone. Someone wrote this note. Someone knows. She turned and ran out of the room. She ran back to the house. She had to get to her room and pretend nothing had happened. Maybe it wasn’t too late.

Maybe she could come up with an excuse. But when she ran up to her window, there was a man standing there. It was Khaled’s eldest son, about 35 years old. He was dressed [music] in black, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked at Lyanna with a cold stare. Another man emerged from the shadows behind him.

 The villa’s security guard, large, silent. Khaled’s son said something in Arabic. The guard grabbed Lyanna by the arm. She tried to break free to scream, but the guard covered her mouth with his hand. With his other hand, he held her by the shoulder. Lyanna couldn’t move. Khaled’s son came closer.

 He looked at her with contempt. He said something harsh in Arabic. Then he waved his hand at the guard. The guard dragged Lyanna to a car parked at the side entrance to the garden. It was a black SUV with its headlights off. Lyanna was pushed into the back seat. Khaled’s son sat [music] next to her. The guard got behind the wheel.

 The car quietly drove out of the courtyard through the side gate. Lyanna looked out the window. She saw the villa, the garden, everything that had been her prison for [music] the last few weeks receding into the distance. The car drove through the empty night streets of Dubai. The skyscrapers [music] glowed with lights. Then the city began to disappear.

 The road narrowed and there were fewer houses. They turned onto the highway. Ahead was the desert. Lyanna realized what was happening. She knew stories about girls who had disappeared [music] in this country, about servants who ran away and were found dead, about wives who disgraced their families and were never seen again.

 She knew that there were laws in this country, but for families like the Al-Manssuris, the laws didn’t always work. Money and influence decided [music] many things. She tried to open the door. It was locked. She tried to hit Khaled’s son. He easily caught her arm and twisted it painfully. He said something in Arabic, his voice icy.

Lyanna stopped resisting. She realized it was pointless. They drove for over an hour. The desert around them was black, only the headlights illuminating the road ahead. Then the car turned off the highway onto a dirt road. They drove for another 20 minutes. They stopped in the middle of nowhere.

 There was only sand around them. The guard got out of the car. He opened the trunk. He took out two shovels. Then he opened the back door and pulled Lyanna out. She fell onto the sand. She tried to stand up, but her legs wouldn’t hold her. The guard pulled someone else out of the trunk. Maria. The girl was wearing the same clothes Lyanna had last seen her in.

 Her hands were tied behind her back. Her mouth was taped shut. Her eyes were wide with terror. They were placed side by side. Khaled’s son got out of the car. He took a gun out of his pocket. It was black and matte. He looked at the girls for a long time. Then he threw shovels at their feet. He said something in Arabic.

The guard translated it into English. Dig. Lyanna looked at the shovels, then at Maria, then at the endless desert around them. They were an hour’s drive from the city. There was no help coming. Their phones were in the backpack that the guard had taken. It was pointless to scream. There was no one around.

 Maria looked at Lyanna. Her lips were taped shut, but her eyes said it all. I’m sorry. I love you. Goodbye. Lyanna picked up a shovel. She stuck it in the sand. She started digging. They dug for about an hour. The sand was dense. The shovels heavy. Maria worked with her hands tied, falling several times.

 The guard lifted her up and forced her to continue. Khaled’s son stood aside and smoked, keeping his eyes on them. When the holes were deep enough, about waist deep each, Khaled’s son waved his hand. The guard took the shovels, the girls were placed at the edge of the holes, facing the [music] desert. Lyanna turned around.

 She wanted to say something, to ask for mercy, to explain anything. Khaled’s son raised his gun. Lyanna saw the barrel pointed at her. She closed her eyes. Her last thought was of her mother selling vegetables at the market. Her younger brothers and sisters in their new school uniforms. A shot broke the silence of the desert.

Lyanna fell face down into the pit. A second shot rang out a few seconds later. Maria collapsed next [music] to her. The guard checked both of their pulses. He nodded. He took a shovel and began to fill the pits with sand. He worked quickly and methodically. Half an hour later, only two small mounds remained.

 The wind began to smooth them out even before the men left. The car returned to Dubai at dawn. Khaled’s son entered the house through the side entrance. He went up to his father’s bedroom. Khaled was sitting on the edge of the bed reading the Quran. He looked up. His son nodded. Khaled closed the book and continued his prayer. In the morning, the first wife informed the servants that Lyanna and Maria no longer worked in the house.

The girl’s belongings were packed into boxes and thrown away. Lyanna’s room was cleaned and locked. A week later, a new maid from Sri Lanka took Maria’s room in the servants quarters. An agency representative called Lyanna’s family in the Philippines. He informed them that their daughter had run away with her lover, disgracing Khaled’s family.

 The marriage was dissolved. According to the contract, in the event of a breach of the terms by the bride, the family was obliged to return the dowy, $100,000. The family did not have that kind of money. The representative said he would give them a month to collect the amount, otherwise there would be a court case.

Lyanna’s father sold the house. Her mother sold everything they had bought with the dowy money. They took out loans from anyone who agreed to give them money. They collected 60,000. The agency wrote off the rest as a bad debt. The family moved to an even poorer neighborhood. The younger children dropped out of school again.

 The father returned to work in the fields, even though his back made it almost impossible for him to bend over. Lyanna’s mother tried several times to call her daughter. The number was unavailable. She wrote messages, but [music] no one replied. She reported her daughter missing to the Philippine police.

 The police contacted the authorities in Dubai. They replied that no report of a missing Philippine citizen had been [music] received and that according to immigration records, Lyanna Raymond had left the country 3 weeks earlier on a flight to Bangkok. Maria’s mother received the last money [music] transfer from her daughter at the beginning of the month.

 Then the transfers stopped. All contact was [music] lost. The woman also contacted the police and received the same response. The two mothers met and compared their stories. They realized [music] that their daughters had disappeared on the same day. They tried to attract the attention of the media and wrote [music] to several newspapers.

One small newspaper published a note about the missing girls, but the article was not widely circulated. A lawyer who agreed to help the families free of charge tried to obtain information about the girl’s whereabouts through the Philippine embassy in the UAE. The embassy sent a request to the Dubai police.

 The police replied that both girls had left the country voluntarily and that no crimes had been reported. The case was closed. Khaled al-Manssuri continued to lead a normal life. He visited the mosque five times a day. He prayed long and intently. He donated money to charity. He was respected in the business community as an honest and god-fearing man.

 6 months [music] later, he took a new fourth wife. This time, a 20-year-old girl from Indonesia. Khaled’s eldest son was promoted in the family business. He became the director of security for all of the company’s facilities. The security guard who was with him that night quit a year later and returned to Pakistan. He bought a small shop there with the money he had saved in Dubai.

 The bodies of Lyana and Maria were never found. The desert holds [music] many secrets and two mounds among the endless sands were no different from thousands of other irregularities in the terrain. Within a few months, the wind had completely leveled them with the ground. Officially, the girls are listed as missing.

 Their case is in the Manila Police Archives, among thousands of other similar cases of Filipino workers who have disappeared abroad. Every year, dozens of Filipino women do not return home from the Persian Gulf countries. Some do indeed run away and start a new life. Others die from accidents or illness.

 Others simply disappear and no one ever finds out what happened to them. The story of Lyanna Raymond and Maria Santos is yet another line in these statistics. Their families are still waiting. Their mothers sometimes receive messages from scammers who claim to have seen their daughters in Thailand or Malaysia. They ask for money in exchange for information.

 The families no longer believe them, but they check every time because hope dies last. The only thing left of the girls are a few photos on their relatives phones and entries in their village’s church records. Their names are listed among those who have been baptized. The column for death is left blank. Technically, they are still alive.

 They just disappeared somewhere between Dubai and Manila. Between the hope for a better life and the reality that turned out to be a grave in the