Kıvılcım moved effortlessly among them, exchanging greetings, her practiced smile never faltering. She could feel the occasional weight of people's gazes lingering on her, probably the photographers or an overcurious guests but she kept her attention on her conversations. Her mother, Sönmez, was stationed near the center, chatting animatedly with a small group of patrons, while Alev and Fatma stood nearby, taking in the crowd. Near the welcome table, Esma and Gamze was flipping through the guest list, checking off names as they arrived.
A few minutes later, first through the door was Ömer. He was in a dark tailored suit that made the cut of his shoulders look almost weapon-like, the crisp white shirt open just enough at the collar to make his presence feel casual but dangerously assured. His gaze swept the room in one smooth arc, missing nothing.
Alev froze mid-sentence. Her glass paused halfway to her lips, eyes narrowing in appraisal.
Alev: Who is that?
She asked, voice low but sharp.
Fatma: That is Ömer Ünal.
Something flickered in Alev’s expression... recognition.
Alev: Wait… that’s him.
Fatma frowned.
Fatma: Him who?
Alev didn’t look away from Ömer.
Alev: The one with the scent.
Fatma’s smirk deepened as her gaze darted between Alev and the man in question.
Fatma: Oh… this just got interesting.
A step behind Ömer, Can entered, equally well-dressed but carrying an easy smile that softened the sharpness of his suit. His eyes instantly scanned for Fatma, catching her just as she looked up. Their gazes hooked for a heartbeat longer than necessary before she deliberately glanced away.
Across the room, Kıvılcım hadn’t yet spotted them. She was still smiling politely at an older gentleman from the art foundation. Her voice was even, but somewhere in the crowd’s shifting energy, she felt a prickle at the back of her neck.
Ömer had barely stepped a few paces inside before his eyes found her.
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Kıvılcım stood near one of Selim's largest canvases, the soft champagne lighting clinging to her like it had been designed solely for her. The deep V neckline pulled his gaze upward, but it was the sharp glint of the metallic belt at her waist that made his chest tighten. A reminder of how impossibly small she looked there, and how much strength he knew lived beneath.
The high slit parted with the subtle curve, offering a glimpse of long, toned legs framed by sleek black stilettos. The fabric swayed like liquid shadow around her, catching the light just enough to make her impossible to ignore when she shifted her stance.
