Chapter 222: A fan in an enemy’s territory

Chapter Two Hundred and Twenty- Three

The gates of Ahmet’s Villa opened before she even reached them. That alone made her slow her steps.

Nobody pressed the alarms. No one questioned her and neither did anyone reach for their weapons or point any at her.

Asli’s eyes narrowed slightly as she crossed the huge gates.

She didn’t need anyone telling her that Ahmet had already declared her his to his men.

The thought came uninvited. It made sense. Too much sense.

Because there was no way they would allow her in so easily otherwise. Not after everything she had done the last time. Not after what she was.

Her fingers loosened around the gun at her side. She hadn’t considered it before coming. That if Ahmet hadn’t marked her as his, she would’ve walked straight into death the moment she stepped near these gates.

But the thought didn’t slow her. It didn’t soften her expression either. It only made one thing clearer. She was already inside and would be out immediately once she got what she came in there for.

But when she reached the main entrance of the house, two guards stepped forward.

They weren’t aggressive. Just firm.

"You can’t go in."

Asli blinked once. Her gaze moved from one man to the other and to the others around. Then to the door behind them. Then back again.

A faint, almost amused breath left her. "So I can walk into your entire Villa," she said slowly, "but not the house?"

Nobody answered. The guards didn’t even shift.

That steadiness irritated her more than resistance would have. Her hand lifted.

The gun rose in a smooth motion, trained between them. Still, nobody moved or flinched.

There was no panic. Not even a blink. None raised their guns to point at her either

That... made her pause. Just for a second.

Before she could decide whether to pull the trigger or step past them, footsteps approached from behind.

"Boss said you’d try that," Philip said. "We’ve all been prepared for you any day and any time."

He stopped beside the guards, eyes briefly flicking to the weapon before returning to her face.

"However, It’s also an order," he said evenly. "Big boss’s order. You’re allowed on the grounds... but not the main house."

Asli lowered her head slightly, almost like she was processing something deeply inconvenient.

Then she scoffed. "Do I look like I care?"

Philip didn’t answer. Neither did the guards.

That annoyed her more than anything else so far. She exhaled slowly, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

"I didn’t come here for sightseeing," she said flatly. "I’ll be out when I get what I came for." Her eyes lifted again, sharper now. "And if you think blocking me helps your big boss, it won’t. It’ll just make me spend more time here."

Then her lips curved faintly. "I’ll find my way in. One way or another." Getting on Ahmet’s dad’s nerves could be the least of the punishments she wanted to give him.

That finally made something shift between the guards. They passed just a glance, quick and uncertain.

Asli noticed it. Of course she did. She tilted her head slightly with contentment.

"So," she continued, voice softer now, almost conversational, "go inside. Tell him I said I’m not leaving until I get what I want."

The words hung in the air.

Philip studied her for a moment longer, then gave a short nod. He walked inside the house.

Asli remained outside the gates.

Pacing.

Slow at first.

Then tighter.

Measured steps cutting across the entrance like she was counting something only she could hear.

Philip returned quickly, stopping just a few steps away from her.

His posture was different now but she didn’t know why or even care.

"Please," he began, "you can enter... but only under conditions."

Asli’s eyes flicked up.

Conditions.

That alone almost made her laugh.

Philip continued anyway. "You must agree to be searched. You can’t be allowed any weapons inside. You must not go upstairs. And you will not cause any disturbance."

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.

’So he is scared of me.’

The thought settled easily in her mind.

Ahmet’s father was scared of her.

That actually pleased her more than it should have.

She lifted both hands slowly, deliberately, as if surrendering to something she didn’t believe in.

"Search me," she said simply.

Philip hesitated.

Then shook his head once.

"You are the boss’s woman. We can’t search you."

Her brows pulled together. The shift was subtle, but it was there. Because that wasn’t what she expected.

First, they set conditions like she was a threat. Now they were refusing to enforce them. Her eyes narrowed slightly.

Philip must have noticed the change in her expression, because he quickly added, "Big Boss and Boss Ahmet... they don’t agree on matters concerning you."

That made her still.

"However," he continued, "we don’t touch our bosses’ women. Not unless they give permission. And right now... Boss Ahmet is on a mission."

Then understanding clicked into place for her. So that was the line. She couldn’t relate to that since such rules were never made in her Villa. There were not enough women to begin with.

She didn’t argue. She didn’t even question it.

Instead, she unhooked the gun from her side and placed it into Philip’s hands.

"That’s the only weapon I have."

Philip took it carefully, as if it might explode.

Only then did the doors open.

Asli stepped inside.

The air changed immediately.

Heavier.

Older.

Like the house itself had always been waiting to judge her.

And then she saw him.

Ahmet’s father.

He stood with his back turned, facing the far end of the room as though he already knew exactly who had entered.

Authority settled in the space around him like something physical.

This was the man she had grown up hating without ever needing a face.

And now he finally had one.

She stopped a few steps in.

Waiting.

He didn’t turn immediately.

Only after a moment did his voice cut through the silence.

"Why are you here?" he was direct and cold.

As if she were an interruption, and not a person. Asli didn’t blink.

"I need the list of every powerful man in this Villa," she said evenly. "Dead or alive."

There was no softness in her tone nor any hesitation. Just demand.

The man finally turned. His face was calm, yet empty.

The kind of expression that had seen too many wars to care about one more conversation.

"Why?" he asked.

As if her existence here was already an inconvenience he intended to end quickly.

Asli tilted her head slightly.

"None of your business."

One eyebrow lifted.

Barely.

But it was there.

A warning disguised as curiosity. "I can lock you in one of the rooms until you decide it becomes my business."

Her lips curved faintly.

"Your son won’t allow that." She said it lightly.

Almost like a tease. Like she wanted him to feel it. To taste the fact that his son would probably choose her over him.

But he didn’t react. Not even a flicker.

That lack of response irritated her more than anger would have.

So she leaned into it.

"You don’t even care I’m carrying your grandchild," she added, quieter now.

That did it.

The calm cracked. It was not visible at first.

But she felt it.

The shift in the air.

His eyes sharpened. Cold turned to something dangerous.

"Which," he said slowly, "is the biggest mistake of his life." Then, harsher... "If he wasn’t my son, he would have already faced consequences beyond anything you can imagine."

Asli let out a small breath, almost amused.

"Sucks to be you then." The words landed like a slap.

"What do you want? I believe you know my son isn’t here," he asked, sharper now. Less patience left.

"I told you."

"Why do you want the list?"

Before she could answer, she added, "And I’ll need hair samples. Or that of their relatives, if they are dead."

She spoke as if she were discussing supplies.

Then, a sound came from upstairs. Her head turned instantly. Every thought snapped in that direction.

Her eyes sharpened like something had been pulled inside her.

It was a voice.

Her voice.

From somewhere above.

She didn’t move yet, but her attention had already left the room.

"Don’t even think it," the older man warned, his tone firm, almost daring her to move.

But she didn’t. That wasn’t why she was here.

Still... the fact remained that someone in that house was listening to her songs.

Then she spoke without looking at him. "If you hate my father so much... why haven’t you killed him?"

A muscle tightened in his jaw.

She saw it.

And she pushed further.

"Maybe if you had, he wouldn’t have lived long enough to raise a daughter strong enough to end you. You should be thanking Ahmet."

Her eyes finally returned to him.

"He’s the only reason I’m standing here peacefully and not trying to kill you.

A scoff.

It was low and controlled.

"You should also be grateful," he replied, voice edged, "because he is the only reason you are still standing here, alive."