He couldn't shake the bad feeling crawling down his spine.
Yaman turned off the ignition and got out. The feeling had followed him like a shadow for a few days now. Intuition, instinct- call it whatever you want- a remnant from a past he'd left behind. He'd often felt it during the gang wars and gun fights he'd so eagerly led, the adrenaline rush, guessing where the next bullet would hit, taking careful aim....
But now it felt alien to him, after such a long time.
He walked inside. The strange feeling didn't belong in his cosy home, where the smell of freshly baked bread wafted around and tiny footsteps pattered overhead. Yaman followed the sound of a toddler crying that echoed from upstairs and almost collided with the little boy who came running from the opposite direction, carrying a soccer ball. Yaman grabbed the back of his t-shirt and held him before he could somersault down the stairs.
"What did I tell you about playing soccer in the house?" Yaman plucked the ball out of the boy's hands.
Arif grinned up at him. At three years old, it was still too early for him to lose milk teeth, but there was a big gap in the boy's front teeth, where he'd run into a tree and knocked out two of his pearly whites. Seher had almost lost her mind over his bloodied, swollen mouth.
"No playing in the house," he replied dutifully, baby soft syllables rolling over his tongue in an adorable way.
Yaman raised his eyebrows. He was a little daredevil- his son, who liked to climb the tallest tree in the garden, who heaved himself up to the wall to pluck ripe pomegranates and crawled into ditches to rescue stray kittens. The boy was completely fearless- it was a little unnerving.
Yusuf followed him, still in his dusty soccer uniform, almost ten, tall and lanky and tanned after hours of playing outside. He halted, panting.
"I'm sorry, uncle!" He gasped. "He's so freaking fast!"
"We'll play outside, baba," Arif said immediately.
Yaman fought the involuntary smile which came over his lips and tossed the ball to Yusuf.
"Keep an eye on your brother."
"Okay."
The two boys ran down the stairs, shrieking.
"And be careful!"
The crying was coming from the nursery. Yaman walked over and threw the door open.
Inside, Seher stood in a pool of sunlight, with a crying Yildiz in her arms, rocking her softly and murmuring soothing words.
She was still clad in her office clothes, a neat white blouse tucked into a burgundy pencil skirt, which complimented her slender figure. Her hair was twisted up with stray ringlets curling behind her ears. Yaman was really appreciating those stilettos she'd come to wear- now he could kiss her without getting a crick in his neck because of all the craning.
Her working had not exactly being planned. Since the accounts had been set up, Iqbal had been the one to handle all the charity work and donations done by the company. As far as Yaman knew, she'd been an excellent and generous hostess.
But after her death, he'd handed the finances over to a separate group and they'd made a shocking discovery- instead of making donations, Iqbal had been laundering money from the company to offshore accounts under fake names, for years. She'd even bought a lavish island house with that money, unbeknownst to him.
Yaman had been livid, disappointed at himself for being so completely fooled by a woman, for such a long time. He'd immediately decided to close all the donations and charity work, until Seher had volunteered to handle it for him.
She'd stepped up, reopened the accounts and made it so, at the end of every month, the director board received a clear, clean-cut financial report of all the expenses done for orphanages and women's shelters. Everyone including Yaman, had been impressed by her deftness. But of course, she had always been so economical.
Yaman kissed his wife and reached for Yildiz in her arms.
"Why is she crying?" He asked.
"I don't know," Seher sounded close to tears herself. "She's been crying nonstop for fifteen minutes straight now. I did everything I could."
The little girl looked exhausted. She wrapped her small arms around his neck and burrowed herself into his chest.
"Baba...."
"Shh...." He said. "Shh... It's alright. Everything is alright. What happened, Yildizim?"
"Bad dream" She sobbed.
"Bad dream?" He frowned. "What is it about?"
"Dunno," she said. "Bad sounds. Bad colours. Everything was black."
His heart skipped a beat. Yildiz was an amazingly sensitive child for her age. The cloud resurfaced, and he felt the gloom settling back in his bones. Something definitely didn't feel right.
Seher threw her hands up in mock exasperation.
"Oh, I see how it is- daddy's girl," she said. "I'm going to check on your brothers. At least, they like me better."
Yaman chuckled.
"True. You always did have a way with boys."
Seher stomped out of the room. But when he glanced back, he caught her watching them from the door, her gaze soft, a smile curving her lips. She closed the door behind her, quietly.
Yaman walked to the balcony, with Yildiz in his arms. She sniffed, distracted by the brass buttons on his coat. He cupped the back of her head and peered into her large green eyes.
"Feel better?"
"Uh huh," she mumbled.
"Is it okay if baba makes a call?"
She nodded against his chest.
Holding her close to him with one arm, Yaman took out his phone and dialled Nedim's number. Nedim had been out of town for a week, on a business errand. He picked up on the second ring.
"Yaman, what is it?"
How could he phrase his question without sounding like a superstitious old woman?
"Nedim," He paused. "Did you check through your contacts, recently?"
"No, not in a while," Nedim admitted. "Why Yaman, is there a problem?"
"No, just a hunch," he said.
"I'll check through them immediately and let you know," Nedim said.
"Yes, do that."
Yaman disconnected the call and looked towards the garden, where the two boys were chasing the ball enthusiastically. Seher stood in the shade of a tree, shouting encouraging words at them.
Yusuf seemed very much interested in the game, as opposed to Arif who kept zigzagging back to Seher, to hang around her like an adoring puppy, holding up his small face for kisses. Between them, it was obvious who was the better player. Eventually, Arif seemed to be concerned that his big brother would beat him at the game, so he grabbed the ball and ran towards Seher.
"I won!" He announced. "I always win!"
"No, you didn't," Yusuf shot back. "That's cheating!"
Yaman chuckled and kissed Yildiz's forehead.
"Let's go intercept your brothers before they drive your mom crazy," he said. "Come on."
************************************
"We're going out."
Yaman looked up from his iPad, blinking.
"What?"
Seher regarded him. Lately, he hadn't been himself. He'd doubled the security in the mansion for some reason, and he'd even placed his men around Yusuf's school, until his classes ended. Sometimes, Seher would wake up in the middle of the night to an empty bed, only to find Yaman sitting at his desk, checking up on CCTV footages. She'd inquired about it, but so far he'd been vague and evasive.
Seher didn't mind. She knew that if it was something important, he would tell her. But after four nights of insomnia in a row, it was obvious that he was under a lot of stress. Something needed to be done immediately.
"We're going out," she repeated. "Come on."
"Am I missing something?" He took out his phone, checking through the reminders. "Today isn't our anniversary, is it?"
Seher laughed.
"No. It's just, we haven't gone out in a long time. The kids are napping and later, brother Ziya and Çiçek are going to take them to the park. We have free time today. Come on."
A tentative smile pulled at his mouth.
"Alright then, where are we going?"
"Nowhere specific," she said, mischievously.."We'll walk around and have lunch. Just the two of us."
She hadn't given it much thought. Definitely nowhere fancy. She'd put on an old blue summer dress, comfortable sandals and tied her hair back with a scarf. After several days of walking around in high heels and tight skirts, it felt good to have the steady ground under her feet again. She grabbed her purse and led the way out of the mansion.
They drove around for a while, mostly talking among themselves. Then Yaman parked the car at the beach. Seher shot him an assessing look. Already, the tight set of his shoulders was loosening and the dark look in his eyes had vanished.
Good.
They walked along the beach, holding hands. In this April, the summer heat was becoming unbearable. Her dress stuck to her body with sweat, stray hair curling wildly at her nape.
Yaman had slung his jacket over his shoulder and rolled the sleeves back to his elbows, exposing his strong forearms. It was extremely distracting. From time to time, he would wipe at the sweat on his brows and she blinked at the way the muscles rippled under his white shirt.
That was also distracting.
You're going to make me lose my mind today, aren't you? She thought, trying to concentrate on her surroundings.
"What did you say?" Yaman looked down at her.
Seher clamped her mouth shut, realizing that she'd said those words out loud.
"Nothing!" She chirped. "Actually, I'm hungry. We should find some place to have lunch."
Small food huts dotted the beach, but they were mostly selling fast food. Finally, they found a charming cafe at the far end, with wooden tables and benches placed outside. The huts shading the tables filtered the sunlight, bathing them in a warm glow.
"Let's buy sandwiches," Seher said. "We can feed the seagulls too."
Yaman quirked an eyebrow, smiling. "Breakfast food for lunch?"
"Uh huh," She grinned. "And make sure to buy iced coffee too!"
He disappeared inside the cafe to place the order.
Seher looked towards the horizon, seeking temporary solace in the breeze that blew in from the ocean. While she waited, she studied the ring Yaman had gifted her for their last anniversary- the emerald set on the platinum band with the infinity symbol engraved in it. She'd given him a pair of cufflinks in the same design. She still remembered his smile, when he'd realized that they'd unconsciously been on the same page when they were choosing gifts for each other.
The bench scraped over the floor, as someone sat across from her, at the opposite end. She threw a big red beach ball which had accidentally come her way, back towards the group of sheepish looking little boys, smiling.
"Beautiful day, huh?"
Seher looked up. A man in a crisp black suit was sitting across from her. As she watched, he took off his sunglasses, revealing shadowed gray eyes.
Seher inclined her head politely and looked away.
"Makes you want to have something good to cool you off, doesn't it, little Miss?"
Seher glanced at him, sharply. The man was obviously older, with a lined face and salt- and- pepper hair. He wore a heavy silver ring on his left hand and the tattoo of an eagle covered the back of his other hand.
If he was trying to pick her up....
She groaned, internally. Did wedding rings mean nothing at all, anymore?
Last week, she'd gone to a charity event in the company, with Yaman. There, she'd been gone to the restroom for only ten minutes. When she'd come back, a woman was so blatantly flirting with Yaman, she'd nearly lost it. Of course, he'd been hopelessly oblivious to the woman's advances. Seher hadn't left his side for the rest of the night.
"Yes," she said shortly, as an answer to the man's question. She glanced back at the cafe. Where was Yaman?
"It's a shame to be all alone in such a nice weather, little Miss...."
And....that was enough. Seher placed her hand on the table, so her wedding band was full on display and looked at him, straight in the eyes.
"I wouldn't know, Mister," she said. "I'm here with my husband."
She'd hoped that the man would take the hint and leave her alone, but he just smiled.
"Now, isn't that splendid?" He drawled. His gaze was unnerving. "So, you're the woman who hooked Kirimli up..."
Seher pulled back, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. Icy fingers trailed a path down her spine. The man's eyes were far too calculating for her liking.
Did he know Yaman?
"You would think it's impossible to make two sandwiches, quickly," Yaman's voice sounded from behind her and she stood up, instantly relieved. "I almost..."
He halted, when he noticed the man.
Seher looked between the two men, frowning. She could see various emotions flitting across Yaman's eyes- surprise, disbelief, fear and finally a cold, hard anger....
He threw down the sandwiches with a vicious snap and reached for Seher's arm, pulling her unceremoniously away from the table and pushed her behind him.
"Yaman?" She squeaked.
He took a menacing step forward as if to do... something. His posture was so rigid, Seher thought he would snap at any moment.
The man leaned back with a leisurely smile.
"Calm yourself down, Kirimli," he said. "Look, your little wife is watching. We wouldn't want to scare her away now, would we?"
Yaman punched the tabletop hard, making her jump.
"You! Stay. Away. From. My. Family!" He growled.
Not waiting for the man's comeback, he pushed through the crowd, dragging her along with him, his fingers vice-like on her arm. Seher glanced back once. The man had put on his sunglasses, but she had the uncanny feeling that he was watching them.
"Yaman, wait!"
He didn't seem to hear her. Reaching the car, he opened the door and almost heaved her into the passenger seat. Then he snapped the door shut. Getting into the driver's seat, he rifled through the glove compartment and took out his Airpods.
"What's going on?" She asked again.
"NOT NOW!" He shouted.
Seher leaned back, a little stunned. She couldn't remember the last time he'd raised his voice at her.
Yaman pulled out of the parking lot, doing a sharp turn, almost hitting another car. Seher stared, disbelievingly. He'd always been a careful driver, but now, he weaved through the traffic like a maniac, honking at cars and even ignoring the stop signs.
He dialled someone.
"Is everyone home?" There was a pause. "Goddamn it! Goddamn it to hell!"
Seher flinched.
"Get them to the mansion, right now!"
He cut the call and switched to another number.
"Arman, take Yusuf out of the class and get him home!" He barked out the order. "Just do it!"
Seher clutched her purse to her chest and looked out of the window. They were going too fast.
"Can you slow down?"
He still didn't seem to hear her. He pulled into the mansion grounds almost at the same time as another car did. Seher could see Yusuf watching them from the backseat of the car.
Ziya, Çiçek and the twins were standing at the front door, dressed to go out. Ziya came forward when they got off from the vehicle.
"Yaman, what's going on?"
Yaman ignored him too. He picked Yusuf out of the backseat of the car.
"Get inside, now!"
Seher could see that the children were getting afraid. So she summoned a smile and put her arms around them, ushering them inside. Once they were inside, Seher turned to Yaman, but amazingly he snapped the door shut, and she could hear the lock turning in place.
Seher blinked, stunned.
He did NOT just lock them into the house!
"Seher," Ziya's voice sounded scared. "What happened? Why was Yaman acting like that?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "But no need to be scared. If it's something important, he'll let us know."
"We couldn't go to the park...," Arif whined.
The kids stared at her with wide, confused eyes. Neslihan looked at Seher and smiled.
"Come on, you three. Let's go to the porch. I'll make you guys hot chocolate," she said, taking their hands.
Yildiz perked up. "With tiny marshmallows?"
Neslihan smiled. "Of course."
Yusuf shot Seher a serious look and followed his siblings to the porch. After everyone dispersed, Çenger made his way towards her.
"Mrs Seher, what happened?"
"There was this man," she said. "At the beach. I think Yaman knows him. He got so angry and brought me back just like that. He didn't tell me anything"
Çenger looked thoughtful.
"Mr Yaman has so many enemies," he said and Seher's heart skipped a beat, painfully. "Maybe the man is someone from his past...."
Sun sank behind the far mountains and night broke over the mansion. After a subdued meal, Seher put the kids to bed and tried Yaman's number for the hundredth time. But still, he wasn't picking up.
Sighing, she got changed and climbed under the covers with a book. Sleep was miles away and she couldn't even concentrate on the words of Rumi's beautiful poems. She kept glancing at the clock on the nightstand.
At exactly half- past one, the door opened and Yaman walked in, bringing in the smell of the night with him. Their eyes clashed. He looked exhausted- face drawn, eyes shadowed and his usually neat hair all over the place.
Without a word, he went into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.
Seher put away the book, feeling suddenly hurt. She'd been losing her mind over worrying about him. For hours.
Fine then, she thought. If he wanted to keep her in the dark of whatever that was happening and push her away again, so be it.
She clicked off the night lamp and turned away, closing her eyes. A moment later, the mattress dipped under Yaman's weight but she refused to acknowledge him, keeping her eyes firmly away from him.
By his irregular breathing, it was obvious that he wasn't asleep yet. She burrowed into the pillows. Her heart melted a little. Maybe there was a reason for his silence....
Before she could turn around, she felt his arm snake around her waist and his warm chest pressed up against her back. She melted a little more.
"Don't be mad at me," His voice was tinged with tiredness. "It's been a long day."
Seher turned, so she was facing him.
"Are you going to tell me what happened at the beach?" She asked, feeling his arm tense around her waist. "Who was that man?"
Yaman's eyes were unusually hard.
"Someone from my past," he said, shortly. "Don't worry. It was so sudden, I just panicked. He won't come near you again. He won't hurt you."
She didn't worry about herself. At all. She knew that behind these walls, she was as safe as she could ever be. He was the one who went out there, exposing himself to the demons of a past he'd left a long time ago.
And she worried about him. A lot. With good reasons too, because she'd already seen the scars littering his body. She'd run her fingers all over those scars, memorizing them one by one.
"I'm not worried about myself," she said. "I'm worried about you. Those men from your past tried to kill you so many times. What if this man tries to kill you too?"
"He won't try to kill me."
He said it with such conviction, Seher peered into his eyes with disbelief.
"How are you so sure?"
"I'm absolutely sure that he won't try to kill me," he said. "Not with bullets, knives or sending thugs after me. Never."
Something about the way he phrased his words nagged at her mind, but Seher couldn't help the choking relief she felt.
"Then I'm glad," she said. "I was so afraid for you...."
Yaman pulled her closer still. He'd told her once, that by being close to her, breathing her scent and feeling her body against him, his mind got cleared.
"Sleep. Don't be afraid, anymore," he whispered.
"Goodnight," she said.
And she offered him solace, in the way she could. She wrapped her arms around his middle and hugged him tight.
************************************
His instincts hadn't led him astray.
Yaman stared at the rare summer rain pattering against the window, holding Seher's wrist in his hands, loosely. The clock showed that it was three o'clock in the morning. Seher was fast asleep, dark hair fanning all over the pillow. He hoped that no nightmares would plague her sleep tonight.
He was counting her pulse.
Her steady pulse, the rhythmic sound of her heartbeat, her fluttering breaths.... Proofs that she was alive, proofs that she would always be alive, if he could just protect her.
He'd almost failed today, when that man had leisurely sat across from her and if he'd been a minute late, Seher wouldn't be here with him...
Yaman swallowed hard. Now he could put a name to the shiver between his shoulder blades and the dark gloom he'd been feeling, for the past few weeks.
Premonition.
He closed his eyes. The man's name flowed through his mind like a drop of poison, tainting every happy thought he had. The name he'd sworn off for years, the name of the man who had almost ruined his life...
Aksak.
Yaman glanced at Seher. He hadn't lied to her when he'd told that the man wouldn't kill him. Not at least physically....
Unbidden, he remembered the last words Aksak had screamed at him, across the driveway of the court, almost nine years ago.
"I will kill you while you're breathing, Kirimli!" He'd screamed, as two police officers held him back. "I'll kill you over and over again. I'll let you feel the pain you've put me through, tenfold.. You'll be wishing for death, when I'm done with you!"
Empty threats of a grieving, heartbroken man. Yaman had dismissed them without a second thought. He'd almost pitied him.
Two days later, brother Yalçin had been shot in the head, left at an abandoned warehouse, with a note stuck to his chest. The note was held down by a familiar looking heavy silver ring. It only contained three words.
"Payback has begun..."
Yaman had almost gone on a killing spree then. He'd set fire to Aksak's warehouses, sunk his ships by blasting the engines... But he couldn't catch Aksak. He'd returned only to find out that someone had burned down the morgue, where Yalçin's body had been stored. The message was clear.
He wouldn't even be able to grieve his brother's death..
And when he came back to the mansion, and given the news of her husband's death to the woman who was holding his newborn baby, he'd actually wanted to die. He would gladly trade places with his dead brother, if it meant that he wouldn't have to look at Kevser's devastated face or see little Yusuf, who would grow up, never knowing his father.
Later, he found out that Aksak had escaped abroad. Over the years, he'd wished countless times that the bastard would return to Istanbul, so he could finally get his revenge. Then he'd forgotten all about him, when Seher had come to his life and given him the love and happiness he'd only seen in his dreams.
Be careful what you wish for... Now the man was actually here. He'd come back to pick up right where he'd left off.
I will kill you while you're breathing, Kirimli...
Seher stirred next to him, seeking his warmth even in sleep. Yaman stared at his wife's unassuming face, a fear like he'd never known, weighing his bones down.
And now Aksak had too much ammunition in his hand, to kill him over and over again if he wanted.
❤️
Give me a classy villain who has a history with the morally gray protagonist 😁
You guys remember Aksak? I've been waiting for him to make an appearance through the whole of season one and season two- the mysterious archenemy of Yaman😁
But of course, we only have immoral women after Yaman's wealth and who hate Seher, as villains (Iqbal, Zuhal, Çanan)- same storyline over and over again💔
I have high hopes for the psychiatrist in the current storyline 🤞
And keep in mind that maybe the writers will have a whole different story dedicated to Aksak in the next season. And we never knew much about Yalçin so who knows, maybe they will resurrect him from the death in season 3. This is just something I've conjured up in my mind. It has nothing to do with the original storyline. Bear with me🥰❤️
If you enjoyed the chapter give a vote and drop a comment 😘
-nocturnal4ever