Chapter Thirty-Eight
His eyes snapped open, and he was instantly on high alert. He lay perfectly still, his ears straining to pinpoint the sound. And then, he heard it again. The soft whisper of the fabric against leather boots and the gentle thud of footsteps.
He knew that sound. It was the sound of someone trying to sneak out. His gaze flicked to the bed, and he saw that she was no longer there. He threw off the covers and got to his feet, his eyes scanning the room.
That was when he saw her, trying to slip out the door. She was moving quietly, but he could see the tension in her body as she tiptoed.
He reached out and grabbed her hand, his grip firm but not unyielding. She froze, her eyes darting up to meet his. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension between them almost as electrifying.
Her face fell, disappointment etched on her features. She looked away, and her eyes drifted down to their joined hands. She tugged gently, trying to free herself from his grasp.
He didn't let go. Instead, he watched her while her eyes locked on his. He could see the discomfort in her eyes. Was this awkwardness because she was caught trying to escape or because she had begged him to touch her and he did?
"Go back to bed," Ahmet said, his voice low and even. Probably with a hit of disappointment.
She looked up at him, her eyes flashing with a hint of defiance. But it was quickly extinguished, replaced by a dull resignation. She nodded, her shoulders slumping in defeat like a little child being scolded.
Without a word, she turned and walked back to the bed. She climbed under the covers and pulled them up to her neck, her body curling into a tight ball.
He watched her every move, his eyes never looking elsewhere. She was too submissive, too compliant. It wasn't like her to give in so easily. He knew it would only last till the next morning.
But as the silence stretched out, his eyelids began to droop. He tried to fight it, but exhaustion eventually won out. He sank onto the couch, while his eyes drifted shut.
When he woke up, the room was cold and dark. He rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the fogginess. He glanced over at the bed. It was empty.
She was gone. He sighed. He knew she was going to escape again. How had he not heard her leave? He was a mafia, trained to wake up at the slightest noise. He had woken to her first attempt. But somehow, he slept through the second one. She was a Mafia too. She saw her mistake with the first one and corrected it during her second attempt.
He threw off the covers and got to his feet, his eyes scanning the room again, hoping she had left something behind. He walked over to the door and opened it, looking out into the hallway. But she was nowhere to be seen.
As he stood there, he caught a whiff of her scent still lingering in the air. He felt a pang of surprise. Her scent had been what had lulled him to sleep, he was sure it was. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept so soundly.
Just then, a few notes which seemed to be under the pillow caught his eyes. He lifted it and they were indeed money. This room was his only. And he was sure there was no money when they arrived last night so…
'She is paying me, I see.' he mused and a laugh drew from him surprisingly. She was paying him and to be frank he didn't know how to react to that. But anger wasn't part of the feelings he felt.
He was so used to doing that that he never thought any woman would pay him for giving her pleasure. But was Asli ever a 'woman'? There had been too many firsts since last night than he could remember his whole life. Someone he was craving for laid in his bed and he didn't unbuckle his belt to enjoy too. It was her first time being touched in that way and It was his too, not giving himself pleasure.
He couldn't say she was willing. He knew a conscious Asli wouldn't have let him touch her in that manner. Rape wasn't something his organization was known for. His father would fret and his mother would disown him if they did that.
A gentle smirk appeared on his lips. They were Mafias. Rape would've been the last thing anyone would want to punish them for yet his family had some 'righteous-owned' rules.
Though he had a mind of his own which was filled with thoughts of what ifs, he wondered what she was thinking at the moment after he had helped her and she left him a few dollars.