Chapter Twenty
Asli didn't know when she fell asleep, her food untouched. She woke up the next morning, famished and weak. To make matters worse, she had her period too.
She could deal with getting shot but cramps, that was a different kind of pain she could never deal with.
She was planning on staying in bed after her breakfast since she had no activity that day.
But after showering and eating her breakfast, her phone buzzed. She picked it up and it was an image sent to her from Ahmet.
She opened it and under the picture was captioned, 'You looked busy in this picture.'
The bastard was recording her when she was dancing for him. She panicked and hit the call button immediately.
He did not answer. The beast! She searched for her keys and weakly drove to where they last met.
As if she knew he'd be waiting, she opened the door and met his smiling face. Oh, how she wished she could wipe it off with a punch.
But then, suddenly, the whole room began spinning around her and all she saw was darkness.
Ahmet's eyes widened as Asli stumbled closer to where he sat, her legs buckling beneath her. He rushed forward, catching her by the elbows, but she slid from his grasp, collapsing onto the cold floor.
"What the...?" He trailed off. This was not what he imagined would happen.
The woman lay motionless, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. His instincts screamed at him to call for help, but was that the right thing to do? Everyone knew they were enemies. Seeing them together would be dangerous for them both.
Her father would kill her before she even explained that he was blackmailing her and by blackmail, that reason was enough to have her killed… all over again.
Why did he care? Maybe it was because she had collapsed in front of him. He was a mafia lord and had seen many die, and killed many even. This shouldn't bother him but it did.
'I know why I am feeling uneasy. If anyone entered, they might think I touched her. Then a war between our families will start for sure,' he tried convincing himself.
'Is not like you ever cared. You've killed so many Mafia leaders before,' a little voice nagged at him.
He knelt beside her, hesitant. "Hey, lady, can you hear me?"
No response. He checked if she was wounded, but she was not. Was it hidden where she wore clothes?
Ahmet's gaze darted around the room, the bed would be comfortable to lay her in.
Did anyone touch her on her way here? So many thoughts were passing through his head.
A faint scent of perfume lingered on her clothes, but nothing else gave him any leads.
He tentatively reached out to check her pulse, his fingers brushing against her wrist. Her skin felt warm, but her pulse was erratic.
"Damn it," he muttered, unsure what to do next. He wasn't exactly equipped to handle medical emergencies. He knew the basics but had not used those lessons before. He was better at taking lives than reviving.
With a heavy sigh, he carefully lifted her into his arms, carrying her to the bed in the corner of the room. He grabbed a bottle of water from the table and dampened a cloth he found in the washroom, gently placing it on her forehead.
'What are you doing to me, Asli?' The question was to himself even though it sounded like he was asking her. Markus was going to have a good laugh if he saw this.
This was supposed to be a hit-and-run. He wanted to add that to his number of collections. What was he doing putting a towel on her head and waiting for her to wake up? He hadn't hit yet and neither could he run.