Chapter 208: "No, you silly woman"

Chapter Two Hundred and Nine

Ahmet stepped into his room, eyes immediately falling on Asli’s sleeping form. The soft rise and fall of her chest, and the peaceful curve of her face pulled a quiet smile across his lips.

The floor was scattered with papers and maps, a chaotic trail marking her restless energy. She had never been one to sit still. Yet, even in the mess, she had unknowingly helped him trace safe routes, the very ones that would lead him to one of her father’s warehouses.

A spark of excitement coursed through him, and he couldn’t help but think they would be remembered as the perfect pair in history: him, and her. He moved closer, eyes drinking in the details of her sleeping face. She looked impossibly beautiful, serene in a way that contrasted sharply with her usual fire. She’ll make a beautiful mother.

But then a shadow flickered over his thoughts. Who would dare threaten his child and Asli’s lives?

Should he tell her? Should he risk shattering her peace with history’s cruel weight? She had her own version of the story. Should he tell her why his father supposedly ruined her family?

No. He couldn’t. Not yet. She didn’t need to carry that burden. She already had enough to worry about.

With a slow exhale, he stepped toward the bathroom, letting the steam of the shower promise a temporary escape. He’d wrestle with the rest later. For now, he would wash away the tension, if only for a little while.

Ahmet had fallen asleep beside her, though he wasn’t sure when. When he finally stirred, the warmth beside him was gone.

He blinked, his heart tightening, and turned his head. The bed was empty.

Rising, he checked every corner of the apartment but she was nowhere. A tight sigh escaped him as he grabbed his phone and called.

The call barely rang before it was cut off. A message blinked on the screen: "I was craving some grapes. I don’t know if it makes sense."

A small, soft smile tugged at his lips. Grapes. He could have run to get them. Heck! He would’ve planted trees for her if he could. Anything.

Hours later, she returned. The tension in their shoulders melted as they sank into the couch together, side by side, foreheads brushing, and hands intertwined. For a while, no one spoke. The silence between them was comfortable.

Ahmet traced his fingers along her arm, inhaling the faint scent of her hair. She rested her head against his chest.

Then, out of nowhere, she lifted her head, eyes locking on his. "Did you release Demir?"

He shook his head. "No."

She tilted her head, thoughtful, then said firmly, "You should."

"What?"

"You can’t keep him forever. You don’t want war, do you? Now that I think about it... what hold do you have on my father?"

"Me? Nothing." He paused, eyes darkening slightly. "Your father... isn’t what you think he is."

"Not this again," she said, exasperated. "I get it, you hate him. Now release Demir."

"I’m not doing that," he said, annoyance threading his voice. "Do you like him that much?"

"He’s my brother," she snapped, tone clipped.

He studied her face. "Well... your brother is one of my suspects. He knew about you and me before we tied him up."

Her eyes widened, panic flaring.

"So... if only he knows about the pregnancy, it could be him."

"He didn’t know," she insisted.

"Can you be sure? He acted as if he knew. He claims you’re his."

"What?" Her voice wavered.

"Yes. He said you were brought to the Villa for him," Ahmet added, watching her scoff.

"What? No... he wouldn’t say that. Demir and I were close before he moved away. Rumor was he got sent because they thought we liked each other... and around that time, we did. I mean, I did." Her eyes flicked to his, realizing his reaction, and she hurried to clarify: "Not anymore."

"Ah. Well... you agreed to liking him, whereas me..." he began, his jaw tightened slightly but she cut him off.

"Come on. You and I have this... this..." She faltered, her voice soft, and playful. "With the nature of our relationship, we..." She couldn’t finish her statement.

For a moment, he said nothing, only watched her, and something unreadable settled behind his eyes. Then he exhaled softly, the tension easing just enough.

She was with him now, wasn’t she? None of them had actually admitted to the other what they felt about themselves. Even though this was new to him, he knew he wouldn’t even let her go if she wanted to. A smile tucked on the lips. She was his forever.

"What nature is our relationship?" he asked, the edge in his voice smoothing into something lighter, almost teasing.

"I don’t know," she admitted, smiling.

"You don’t know? Now that hurts," he said, a sly smile playing on his lips. He didn’t wait for her to confess. He leaned closer, voice gentle but steady. "I love you."

For a heartbeat, the room was still. Quiet. Dead silent. Had she not heard him? Or was she pretending?

"Is it because I’m... pregnant?" she asked, confused. Though she was confused, he couldn’t really tell what she felt after his confession, after all she was a master of covering stuff up.

He laughed softly, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. "No, you silly woman. I think I loved you the first time we met. The very day we started shooting at each other... and even when someone had hurt us both. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And to be honest, my mother wouldn’t let a day pass without watching you on stage... your other persona, Lisa."

He laid his heart bare, every confession on his sleeve, unguarded and raw. He didn’t care anymore. If he didn’t tell her now, when would he? He wanted her to know, to feel it, to hear it... and if possible, he’d scream it from the rooftops that he loved her.

"I’m not saying it so you can say it back." His thumb brushed lightly against her cheek, almost absent-mindedly. "I just... couldn’t keep it to myself anymore."