Chapter Eight
Ahmet's eyes blazed with mischief as the call ended. She was right where he wanted her. He could tell how frustrated she was feeling and he would pay a fortune to watch her plan an escape. "She will pay tenfold for this," he teased, his voice low and calm. "I swear on everything I hold dear. She'll regret the day she ever crossed me."
As he grabbed his shirt and car keys to leave, he saw Markus descending the stairs, while loading his gun with a curious gaze. "Where are you off to, man? And why is that smirk on your face?"
Ahmet's response was defensive, "I could ask you the same thing."
Markus chuckled, "What, I don't have a smile on my face. You don't get to be secretive, buddy. Tell me, come on, you know I don't like that."
A brief smile flashed on Ahmet's face. "I'm in a good mood."
Markus scanned him with a curious look while his tone was laced with teasing, "Does that involve Asli? Did you forget about the gun wound she…"
Another man in the dining area stifled laughter, while Markus's grin widened, enjoying Ahmet's sudden shift of mood and discomfort.
"I dare you to laugh!" Ahmet thundered, his eyes flashing with rage. The young man cowered, attempting to disappear into thin air.
Markus intervened, his tone laced with amusement. "Leave the poor guy alone, Ahmet. You've been seething since we got back. It was only now I saw you smiling again."
Ahmet stopped what he was doing briefly before proceeding. "This has been the song you've been singing since she shot me. Spare me that already." He paused, his hand touching the bandage with a hint of desperation. "I will make her pay. I am working on it."
Markus raised an eyebrow, his gaze questioning Ahmet's sudden shift of mood again. "There is that smile from a while ago. What is it?" he asked, his tone filled with curiosity.
Ahmet's expression turned mischievous, his eyes darting away from Markus's probing gaze. He remained silent, but his jaw unclenching.
Markus's eyebrow shot up higher, his eyes narrowing as he realized Ahmet wasn't going to provide an answer. "Come on!" he declared, his voice betraying his impatience.
Ahmet's response was immediate and vehement. "No!"
Markus countered, "Yes."
Ahmet's voice rose. "No!"
"Yes, and stop this back and forth," Markus said, his tone firm. "I'm not leaving you alone till you tell me."
Ahmet shot him a glance, his eyes narrowing as he struggled to maintain a straight face. "Are you begging to get shot?"
Markus chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I'll shoot you back, so no biggie. Life is already serious, Ahmet. With our line of work, we're here today and gone tomorrow. I might as well enjoy my stay."
Ahmet's expression darkened. "I'm shooting you if you leave this world without my permission."
Markus's laughter grew louder, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "Did I hear someone say shoot? Oh, you mean like the one that wounded your shoulder?"
Ahmet's fury erupted, and he flung open the front door, storming out into the night. "I am not telling you what plan I have or why I am laughing!" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the darkness.
Markus's laughter followed him out to the garage, his laugh only fueling Ahmet's seriousness.
"Ah, come on, Ahmet! I'm sorry. This is the only time I get to tease you, so let me enjoy it," Markus said, his grin mischievous. "Okay, okay, I won't do it again... for now. I mean it. For now, I'll be serious. So tell me!"
"Fine!" He went silent for a while.
"Go on," Markus urged, his voice low and attentive.
"I want answers and only Asli can give me that. Why will she secretly have unregistered men? What is she planning? I know you've been as curious as I am" Ahmet leaned on the car as he spoke.
The thought sent a chill down Ahmet's spine. If Asli's father discovered her betrayal, he'd kill her without hesitation. Family ties meant everything yet nothing in the Mafia world when power struggles often led to bloodshed. This was something common to them.
Yet, Ahmet couldn't shake off the feeling that Asli's potential death bothered him. Why? He pushed the thought aside, but it lingered, refusing to leave his mind.
Markus broke the silence, his voice laced with calculation. "We can use this to our advantage, Ahmet. We can feed her father hints, let him eliminate her, and then gain his trust."
Ahmet's frown deepened, his instincts rebelling against the suggestion. Was it the idea of eliminating Asli or having a hand in her fate that unsettled him? "No," he said curtly.
His cousin continued to prod, his tone back to teasing. "Yeah, I forgot. She's your woman."
But Ahmet's response was filled with mischief. "Oh I want to use that but for something else." He informed him with a wink.
Markus laughed. He knew exactly what his cousin meant. They had done it before but he thought Ahmet was angry it happened the first time.
As they stood in the chilly night air, He thought to himself. While he had no desire to involve her father, blackmailing her was definitely something he'd love to engage in. To see her at his mercy.
With a sly smile, he told him, "You should've seen the look on her face when I told her to wear the lingerie. Man, I bet you would pay anything to see that."
"The lingerie or her in the lingerie?" Markus questioned, his voice getting amazed with pleasure as if he were imagining it.
"No, I meant the look on her face when I… you know what? Forget it, you pervert!" Ahmet called with a laugh and his cousin joined.
Markus joined in on the laugh. "She will look good begging… okay okay, I won't go there. She's yours."
"She's not mine." He quickly corrected and Markus nodded, even though his eyes spoke differently.
"But you want to sleep with her. Is it to punish her for shooting you?"
Ahmet waited for a while before answering him. "No"
"Then what is the point in sleeping with her?" He was genuinely surprised. "Well, if it is what you want to do. We can use that information to our advantage."
"Who said I will actually sleep with her? I think she must've received the gift already, don't ask me about it. I am playing a game and I know she can't win."
Ahmet's eyes closed, his mind weaving a tantalizing image. Asli stood before him, draped in sultry lingerie, her curves shimmering in the dim light. She began to dance, her movements fluid, and sensual. Each step, each sway, beckoned him closer.
Her eyes locked onto his, sparkling with invitation. Her lips curled into a sly smile, her fingers tracing the lace. Ahmet's breath quickened, his imagination running wild. The room faded, leaving only Asli, dancing for him alone.
Or should he say, Lisa? Only Lisa could dance for anyone. But Lisa didn't excite him like Asli would. We're both not the same person? They were and he knew even her being Lisa would not even have her doing this for anyone.
Her seductive rhythm enveloped him, drawing him deeper. Ahmet's heart pounded, his desire escalating. The vision consumed him, hypnotic and irresistible.
Asli's whispered name escaped his lips, without his permission. The fantasy blurred, leaving Ahmet tense, yearning.
Suddenly, he snapped back to reality when his cousin cleared his throat and a teasing smile wouldn't leave his face. His fingers clenched, pulling his hair in frustration.
"You don't want her, my ass," he muttered. His eyes flashed with self-irritation, unaware of the truth.
***************
*The previous day*
Mr. Marco's hand slammed down on his desk, making his most loyal man jump. "What do you mean there is no footage from the shootout?" he thundered, his face red with rage.
The man stuttered, "Y-yes, sir. I-I mean, the watchman said it was deleted, sir."
Marco's eyes narrowed, his mind racing with suspicion. "Deleted?" he repeated, his voice dripping with disbelief. "Who would delete it?" He shook his head, his gaze piercing through the window, his thoughts consumed by Asli's potential betrayal. How dare she when he had adopted her and given her a home?
He shouldn't be thinking about it. Asli was his loyal dog, his ruthless and efficient second-in-command. He trained her for himself. No, it could not be her. She was more loyal than a dog, he thought and believed.
But if he trained her, then betraying should definitely be in her. The thought nagged at him.
The seed of doubt had been planted, however not precisely enough to accuse her. It could be anyone. Who would benefit if the footage was deleted? It could not be Ahmet. 'What if it was?' The tiny voice echoed in his head.
"Did you find out who deleted it?" he growled, his patience wearing thin.
The man hesitated before resuming, "He said it was a high-tech worker, sir. No traces or clues were left behind."
Marco's face darkened, his anger boiling over. "Useless people! Tell him to find me whoever deleted it!"
"Y- ye- yes, Godfather." The man stumbled with his words over the phone.
As the call ended, Marco paced his room, his mind racing with conspiracy theories. "Could it be that Asli is hiding something from me? First, she didn't report the shootout to me. Now, the whole scene is deleted. Could it be that she is aware of my plan to eliminate her after she helps me take out Ahmet and his family?"