Chapter Hundred and Eleven
Aht did not follow her right away.
He stood still, her warmth still clinging to his chest like a ghost refusing to leave. He braced himself for the sound of the front door slamming shut.
But it never ca.
Instead, her voice floated back, cold and sharp from the bedroom.
"Release him."
He walked into the room and his gaze lifted slowly, as if looking for her, and there she was, still in the room, and still furious. Her spine was straight, and her chin tilted in that infuriatingly stubborn way.
"No," he said simply, arms folding over his chest.
Her nostrils flared. "If you don’t, you’ll pay."
He didn’t flinch. "Don’t do anything stupid, Asli."
She took a step closer. Her eyes narrowed to slits. "Watch ."
He didn’t speak. Just watched. Watched the tension in her shoulders. The way her fingers twitched like they were searching for sothing to hurt.
Aht knew her. Knew how far she’d go when she was pushed. And right now, she looked seconds from detonating.
And if it ant making him release Cole?
She’d do exactly that.
"Fine," he said, holding up his hands like he was surrendering, though his voice held none of it. "I’ll release him. But you do realize other Villas are looking for him too, right? You want an enemy to have him instead of ?"
She turned to him, the fire in her eyes barely controlled.
"And who said you’re not my enemy?"
The words hit harder than he expected. Still, he laughed. It was just dry and bitter.
He reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and started to dial.
"Put it away."
His thumb froze over the screen. He glanced up. She wasn’t yelling anymore.
She was... thinking.
He could see it in the way her gaze drifted, how her lips parted slightly as the weight of it hit her. Then the reality that if he’d found Cole, others could too, struck her. And if Cole was on his own, he wouldn’t last long.
She hadn’t expected that.
"Give him back. And if he returns with even a little scar on his face, I’d end you," she said again, voice low, but no less commanding.
He arched his brow. "To your Villa? Then what was the point of throwing him out?"
Her face tightened. "I didn’t throw him away. Tell your informant to get his facts straight."
He tilted his head. "You told what happened. Rember?"
A pause.
Then he stepped closer, voice dropping. "And let’s not rewrite history... you gave him those scars."
He watched her jaw clench, a twitch just under her eye betraying the flash of guilt she tried to bury.
Yeah. He’d hit a nerve.
"I’m not giving him back." He finally told her. His tone closed any room for negotiation.
"Aht, don’t provoke ." Her voice cut through the air like a blade. "If you don’t want Markus returning ho in pieces, then fine, keep Cole. But I won’t ask again."
His jaw tightened. "Leave Markus out of this."
Silence filled the room briefly.
"Fine. I’ll give him back," he muttered, more to the floor than to her.
What was the point of telling her he had Cole? Oh, he rembered now. But he was regretting it.
"I’m hungry," he said suddenly as if that could reset the air between them. "I hope you are too."
She walked past him without a word and sank onto the edge of the bed, her body stiff with silent rage.
"I’ll take that as a yes."
"I’m not hungry."
"When was the last ti you ate?"
Before she could answer, her phone rang and she picked it up.
"Demir, hi." She answered and The na landed in his gut like a well-placed punch. Demir. Of course. His knuckles flexed at his sides. He wasn’t stupid, he knew they lived in the sa Villa. Knew what that might an.
Still, a sharp, hot curl of sothing uninvited and ugly twisted inside him. Jealousy? He didn’t want to call it that. But the urge to rip the phone from her hand and hurl it across the room said otherwise.
He forced himself to turn away, feet moving before his mind could catch up. The kitchen was quieter, and less dangerous than watching her speak to soone else with a softness she never gave him.
He busied his hands as he gathered his ingredients. Sothing simple. Sothing to drown out the echo of that na.
’Demir.’
He muttered it under his breath, just to hear how it tasted on his tongue. Bitter. Just as he thought. He tried to shake it off as he stirred the eggs too aggressively, letting the pan hiss and spit.
She said she wasn’t hungry, but he knew better. She hadn’t eaten all day. He could tell from the way her fingers trembled earlier. From the way, she swayed just slightly when she walked.
When he returned, plate in hand, the sound in the room had changed. It was quiet now. Almost too quiet.
She was curled on the bed, asleep. One arm tucked under her head, the other draped across her stomach. The phone rested on the bed beside her, the screen black.
He stood there for a mont, sothing soft pressing at his chest. Maybe he should let her rest. She needed it. But then her stomach growled loudly and he almost smiled despite himself.
"Your body’s turning against you," he murmured, stepping closer.
He placed the plate gently on the bedside table, crouched beside her, and rubbed her shoulder with the back of his hand. "Asli," he whispered, his voice softer than he ant it. "I made sothing."
She stirred, lashes fluttering as she blinked up at him with a hazy glare. He chuckled.
"Don’t look at like I stole your dreams. Your stomach snitched on you."
She stirred, rubbing her eyes before sitting up groggily. No complaints, and neither did she ask questions. It was just the quiet rustle of sheets as she reached for the plate and mumbled, "Thank you."
He didn’t say anything. Just watched her.
In a few minutes, she was done. He looked at her plate. She finished it all. For the ti he’d known her, she finished the food on her plate.
She placed the empty plate aside and he reached for her head, patting it and kissing her on the forehead.
"Good girl." She didn’t push him away. Maybe it was because she was too tired to push him away. She almost chuckled as she reminded herself he had called her a good girl before and just like now, she didn’t push him away. She slipped back beneath the sheets without a word.
He didn’t disturb or stop her.
The soft rhythm of her breathing beca the background music to his night. He moved to his desk, pulled open his laptop, and let his fingers glide over the keyboard as the room dimd into a silence only broken by the occasional clicking of keys and the quiet breathing from her.
An hour passed. Maybe more.
Then ca the sound.
Soft steps. They were as light as air. But he felt it—like a shift in the current. She was awake again, and this ti, heading toward him.
Before he turned, her voice brushed against the stillness. "There’s no way you could use a pin to unlock the door."
A chuckle slipped past his lips. "We can. That’s the easiest if you soak the pin in oil first. Makes the slide smoother."
He turned, half-expecting her smirk.
Instead, she raised a brow and folded her arms. "Check the door’s details well. They used almost 10,000 kilograms of tal for the door. Do you think they would be careless enough to install just any key engine in that?"
That made him blink.
He turned back to his screen and snatched the draft blueprints from the pile beside him. His eyes scanned the dinsions, weight distributions, and materials listed.
Where the hell was that 10,000kg she ntioned?
His brows furrowed.
She watched him with a quiet smugness, the kind that ca from knowing she’d just ruined his confidence for the night, and maybe saved him from a major failure too.
"Where did you see it?" he muttered, eyes still combing.
"It’s here," she pointed to him, already turning back to the bed. "Maybe next ti, you’ll read before you plan a break-in."
She was already halfway back to the bed when she paused, glancing over her shoulder. "I’ve seen the blueprint before."
His gaze snapped up. "You what?"
"I’ve tried breaking in," she added casually, as if she were talking about burning toast, "Didn’t work."
He leaned back. "You’ve tried before? When?"
She shrugged. "Long story. But trust , I got close. Just not close enough."
A grin tugged at his lips. "Well, good thing I have a better plan."
She stopped again, one brow rising in perfect mockery. "A better plan, huh? Yet you didn’t even know what kind of door you were planning to break into."
He couldn’t help the low laugh that escaped him. Touché.
"You’re really not going to let that go, are you?" he asked.
"Not a chance," she smirked. "But hey, if your plan’s as good as your ego, we might just stand a chance."
’We’
He shook his head, still smiling, even as her words sank deeper than they should’ve.
She had tried before. Alone. And failed. Yet here she was, teasing him in the dark like none of it ever touched her.
He leaned forward, tapping the edge of the blueprint. "Then let’s try again. This ti... together."
She snapped her head quickly towards him.
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