Mine To Be Called ✓

~~•One•~~

"Miss Ceylan, I know my job and I was watchful no matter what. What else I do is my personal life and you are in no way allowed to speak about what I can and I can not do," he replied, calmly.

Ceylan scowled at him. "I can because you are here to watch me. If you don't do it carefully, I'll report your doing to Dad."

He shoved his hands in his pocket. "What will you report, Miss Ceylan? Mr Aslan asked me to not let you drink and I did my duty. He asked me to keep an eye on you throughout the party and you found me near to you every second. You just can't report me based on a hooker talking to me and sitting closer to your father. No offense, but he will let it go by laughing. He made me your bodyguard, he didn't ask me to sacrifice my whole life for you."

She clenched her jaw as though she wanted to say something but stopped right away. "I need to go home now. Ready the car, Ozan."

A smirk flashed over his face but he skillfully hid it. He knew where Ceylan was going. He understood the reason for her frustration. After all, he let the hooker even sit beside him for this reaction from Ceylan. It became evident as they reached the car. The rain had started pouring. Ozan quickly acted and managed an umbrella for her. Her black eyes twinkled under the dark and they filled with a strong emotion. As though she had many things to say to him but she couldn't do so.

"Carefully, Miss," he advised her and led her towards the car.

Ceylan stopped in her tracks and cupped his hand which was on the handle of the umbrella. "You are getting wet in the rain as well. You should also come under the shadow of the umbrella, Ozan."

He stilled and pulled away his hand from under hers. "Servants can't be under the same roof as the owners."

"You aren't a servant. You are my bodyguard," she enlightened him.

He laughed under his breath. "Turkey is beautiful. The country having the city of Istanbul is beautiful. You see? The stance is the same."

Ceylan fretted. "Your talks sometimes are so odd."

"Let's go, Miss. It's raining cats and dogs. I can't get you wet in the rain like this so that you can catch a cold. Mr. Aslan wouldn't be happy with me," he told her, truthfully.

She listened to him this time and soon he made her sit on the back seat as he occupied the one behind the steering wheel. Ozan's black overcoat was completely drenched hence he removed it. Now his well-sculptured and sturdy muscles were withheld by the piece of fabric of his blue shirt. Ceylan's breath stuck in her throat at this view. From the front mirror, Ozan caught her staring at him but he didn't say anything.

"Why don't you call me by my name? I feel like a fifty years old married woman with twenty kids by the way you call me Miss," she complained, rolling her gorgeous eyes as she waved a hand through her mildly wet hair to remove the supposed tangles.

Ozan nudged the engine of the car on and it heaved in the air with a roar. "I am no one to call you by your name. I am your---"

"Don't call yourself servant again." She interrupted him. "It doesn't even suit you."

Ozan remained quiet here but the whole time he found Ceylan ogling at him, deep in thought. Suddenly her phone rang and she stared at the screen in annoyance. Her frustration increased seeing who it was.

"God Emir, just give me a break sometimes---" she whispered to herself before accepting his call.

Ozan pretended his focus was on the road but he kept one ear over what Ceylan was saying over the phone. Emir was her fiance and she wasn't happy with his engagement. It was an arranged marriage decided by her father and she as a devoted daughter had to abide him no matter what.