Chapter Twenty-One
Asli stirred in her sleep. Something was different as if she was sleeping in somebody else's room. Wait, she was going to meet Ahmet…
'I saw him…' she reminded herself.
"Ahmet!" She screamed as she fluttered her eyes open.
"Do you always wake up screaming my name?" He joked and she looked at him, almost dreadful.
"What did you do to me?" She looked under the sheets. Relief shot through her when she saw her clothes were still on.
"Do you feel any discomfort or pain?" he asked, his gaze scrutinizing, as if questioning her sanity.
"I'm a mafia boss," she retorted, her voice laced with defiance. "Pain doesn't apply to me."
He raised an eyebrow, his gaze piercing. "Well, then does your p*ssy throb? Can you at least move?"
Her composure faltered, caught off guard by the blunt inquiry. "No."
His voice dropped to a low, husky whisper, sending shivers down her spine. "That's because if I had taken you..." He paused, his eyes locked on hers, as he got closer and leaned in, his breath caressing her ear. "...you wouldn't be walking for a while. Throbbing would be the least of your worries."
Her pulse quickened, and her skin tingled without permission. A flutter in her chest spread lower, as her core clenched involuntarily.
She bristled, attempting to reclaim control. "I wasn't referring to that!"
"By looking under the sheets, I thought you meant that. And let me make one thing clear, if I want to f*ck you, you will be awake and responsive. I wouldn't have to do it while you were unconscious." His smile matched his teasing.
"I won't be your plaything." She told him while glaring at him.
His smirk hinted at how different she sounded, and then told her, "I have better options." The fact that she didn't say it was abomination to lay with him, he could work with that.
As he stood, his hand brushed hers, sending sparks through her veins. Why did his words affect her?
"That is your problem, not mine. Can you stop with the blackmailing? That's so low of you. A very cheap move to make. And you recorded me. How dare you!" Her anger flared suddenly. She was back to her usual demeanor and he wasn't going to complain. He liked her burning hot.
"You collapsed." He cut her off, yet his expression was unreadable.
She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "So?" Her eyes spoke different meanings though and he could decode them.
His gaze lingered, but she refused to believe he cared. Maybe her nanny would care. Or perhaps the manager who thought of her as a fragile singer would have cared but Ahmet? He did not have even a drop of care in his system. He was incapable of empathy. Not that she needed any from him… or anyone for that matter.
"I am leaving," he said, turning to exit. "It will be no fun playing with fragile toys that faint at my feet." She shouldn't feel hurt, but the sting lingered.
"I did not faint at your feet!" She argued. She probably did not hear him calling her a 'fragile toy'. He wasn't sure if he should be grateful for that or not.
When did his words begin to affect her? Her heart raced, while her traitorous body became her own at last.
Ahmet walked out, leaving her breathless and bewildered.
'His family killed your family,' her conscience reminded her again.
She searched for her phone and checked the time. If she had collapsed immediately after she arrived, then she had been sleeping for almost four hours. No wonder she woke up feeling better.
She sighed one last time before throwing the cloth that fell from her forehead, away.
'Ahmet took care of you' there the voice went again. She hated it when she owed someone. How did they go from her being blackmailed by him to being taken care of by him?
How did he move from 'His family killed yours' to 'Here is a cloth on your forehead, you collapsed.'
Despite that, her drive back home was a good one. There was no traffic on the way and nobody called to ruin her peace.
Once she got to the Villa, she headed straight to her apartment, her designer boots stomping on the tiles confidently. As she neared her stairs, a figure emerged from her hall. It was one of her father's loyal dogs.
"Boss Asli," Steve called, his voice low and respectful.
She nodded, acknowledging his greeting.
"Your father is looking for you," he continued, his eyes scanning the surrounding area. "Urgently."
Her gaze narrowed. "What's this about?"
Steve hesitated before responding, "I'm not privy to the details, but it's clear it's urgent. He's been... anxious."
She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. If it were that important, why didn't he call her? She fished her phone out and saw no missed calls from him.
Did Ahmet touch her phone while she was unconscious?
"Tell him I'm on my way," she instructed the man. What could possibly be urgent that her father didn't call but waited until she got home?
With a nod, he swiftly left her apartment, leaving her to wonder what had sparked her father's urgency.
She went and freshened up. Surely, she should be running to him. A call from him was worth that and an urgent call was worth a thousand more.
However, she didn't want any suspicions. Her father's nose was the sharpest while hers were her ears. If she went in there with her clothes, she was sure he would smell the different cologne on her.
Ahmet had mentioned she fell to his feet… in literal terms. That was enough to kill her from embarrassment, she didn't need any misuse of words. Not that anyone would hear of it… at least she hoped Ahmet was man enough to keep that to himself.
She rushed to his study, knowing that was where he would be waiting for her.
As she entered, her gaze swept the room, taking in the familiar faces of their visitors. But one figure stood out - someone she wasn't sure she supposed to see there.