When Işıl Gemici saw Ateş holding Arzu in his arms at the edge of the stage, she clenched her teeth so tightly that a sharp pain shot through her jaw.
The silver clutch in her hands was being crushed between her fingers. The fury in her eyes radiated so strongly, it could be felt even from beneath her mask.
"How dare she... How does she always think she can have everything?" she muttered to herself.
But then, as if pulled backward through time, her eyes drifted into the void and her mind slipped into the past...
Little Işıl was eight years old. Beneath the grand sycamore tree in the garden, bathed in golden sunlight, she sat side by side with Arzu.
Arzu was reading a fairytale book aloud, her voice melodic and full of warmth. Işıl listened, utterly enchanted.
"And the princess, at last, found her happily ever after…" Arzu concluded with a smile.
Işıl clapped gleefully. "That was beautiful! Will you read it again?"
"Of course," Arzu replied, gently brushing Işıl's hair. "You're my best friend, Işıl."
At that moment, a woman came running out of the manor's back door.
Gülseren, Işıl's mother and a servant in the mansion, was out of breath, her eyes wide with fear.
When she spotted Işıl, she began to tremble with rage.
"Işıl!" she screamed. "How many times have I told you? You are not to go upstairs!"
The little girl looked at her mother in shock. "But Mama, we were just reading a book…"
Without thinking, Gülseren slapped her daughter hard across the face. Işıl's cheek flushed red as tears welled in her eyes. Arzu leapt to her feet, horrified.
"How could you do that!" she snapped. "Why did you hit her?"
Gülseren turned to Arzu and bowed deeply, her voice trembling.
"I'm so sorry, young miss… My daughter doesn't understand she's not allowed upstairs. We didn't mean to disturb…"
Arzu tried to protest, "No, it's okay, I—"
But Gülseren had already gripped Işıl's arm tightly and started dragging her away. Işıl looked back over her shoulder, reaching out to Arzu through her tears.
As they descended to the lower levels of the mansion, they encountered Mr. Bayrak. His expression was cruel, his icy eyes devoid of mercy.
"Arzu is an heir. She is nobility," he said in a low, threatening voice. "If I ever see your filthy child near her again, you'll be thrown out of this house."
Gülseren dropped to her knees. Tears streamed down her cheeks. "Forgive us, sir! She'll never go upstairs again. Please, show us mercy!"
Mr. Bayrak looked down at her with disdain. "Remember your place, Gülseren. You're only here because we allow it. One more step out of line, and you and your filthy girl will be out on the street."
As little Işıl watched her mother be humiliated, something inside her broke. That was the day the seed of hatred was sown…
Now, years later, the fire in Işıl's eyes reignited. She snapped out of her trance, breathing sharply. Ateş protecting Arzu had turned her back into that humiliated little girl once more.
"You still think you can have everything, don't you, Arzu…" she whispered, clenching her teeth, her nails digging into her palms.
"But now, you're nothing but a pest. And you won't leave here tonight without learning that."
Her eyes narrowed, already weaving a plan. Tonight, she would strip Arzu of everything she had gained—just like they had stripped everything from her. Just like she had taken her husband, just like she had burned down her home...
She smiled from behind her mask. But this smile was cold—ice-cold—and dripping with revenge.
Ateş held Arzu tightly as they moved through the crowd. His stride was swift and purposeful, nearly lifting her off the ground. Curious eyes followed them, but no one dared step in the path of Ateş Yamanoğlu.
They ascended the grand marble staircase at the far end of the hall. As they moved down the long corridor, Arzu's heart pounded wildly. Ateş reached the heavy door at the end, opened it, and shoved her inside.
The moment the door shut behind them, he let go of her arm. Arzu lost her balance and fell to the ground. His jacket still hung from her shoulders—she clung to it for warmth.
She looked around in fear, eyes widening.
This room was a nightmare made real. Everything was red—the walls, the ceiling, the carpet. The crimson lights bathed the room in a hellish glow.
What hung on the walls stole her breath: whips, handcuffs, chains… Strange devices sat in corners, resembling medieval torture machines.
At the center of the room was a round pool, its water glimmering like blood beneath the red light. Behind it stood a massive bed draped in silk sheets and pillows…
Arzu's stomach churned. What kind of place was this? And worse—how familiar was Ateş with it?
Ateş sat in the leather armchair in the corner, his powerful frame radiating control. He crossed one leg over the other and leaned back. Silence filled the room.
Arzu trembled beneath the jacket, eyes locked on him in terror.
"Why are you here?" he asked, his voice low, but laced with menace.
Arzu took a deep breath. There was fear in her voice, but she forced herself to stand tall.
"For the same reason you are..."
A tight knot twisted in her chest. Does he recognize me? she wondered. The innocent boy she once knew—there was no trace of him in the man before her.
Ateş pulled a luxurious cigar from his pocket. The flame of the lighter flickered in the dark, momentarily revealing his eyes behind the mask.
Arzu's heart nearly stopped. Those eyes… they were strangers to her. The old Ateş had warmth, love in his gaze. These eyes held only cold and shadow.
"Those eyes… they're nothing like the old Ateş," she whispered to herself.
Ateş took a deep breath, the smoke from his cigar curling through the room like a heavy shadow. His eyes roamed over Arzu's body, and he spoke in a voice that cut through the air like ice:
"You don't belong here," he said coldly.
"You don't even know it's forbidden to look the upper class in the eye..." His voice sharpened, like a blade being drawn.
"You don't know, and yet you dare speak boldly. Look around this room... Do you have any idea what could be done to you in here?
Do you know what would've happened if one of those bastards outside had gotten their hands on you?"
Arzu straightened her posture. Despite the fear, her voice carried defiance.
"I decide who I'm with!" she snapped, her voice trembling, yet stubborn.
"You're a psycho! You have no right to give me orders! And besides, who do you think you are? Do you even know who I am?"
Ateş's lips curled into a dangerous smile.
"Oh, I know you, Arzu Bayrak." His voice was glacial.
He slowly stood up, each step toward her making her heart pound louder.
"But you... you don't know me, Arzu Bayrak..." he whispered, leaning in close. "But you will. Very soon."
He moved in on the woman on the floor.
Suddenly, he grabbed her jacket and ripped it off with a brutal motion, tossing it aside. The fabric hit the ground softly, but Arzu's body shivered. She was left in her delicate underwear, her skin goosebumped. She tried to rise, but Ateş's hand landed on her shoulder, pushing her back down.
"You joined the game," he growled. "Now you'll play by the rules."
Arzu lay trembling, clad only in lingerie, her eyes darting nervously. She cried out in anger,
"I don't want this!" She made a move to stand.
Ateş spoke through clenched teeth:
"At every event, there's only one match, Arzu. And from this moment until the night ends, you belong to me. Even if you try to run, they'll drag you back and throw you at my feet."
Her eyes widened in fear. She knew he was right. She had stepped into this twisted game without knowing the rules. And now, she'd pay the price.
Ateş took one last drag from his cigar, blowing the smoke into her face. His eyes wandered hungrily over her body, his voice a low growl of desire:
"Now... strip off that ugly fabric. It's ruining my view."
Arzu's breath caught in her throat. His gaze burned on her skin.
Was there really no way out of this?
Or... how far would Ateş really go?
Yet somewhere deep inside, a spark whispered she would never forget this night.