Defne climbed a couple of floors, and then still took the elevator. But she still was late. Behind the reception desk was empty. Ruya must have brought morning coffee to the boss. Rejoicing that she had not run into a disapproving look, Defne slipped like a mouse into the corridor and moaned with frustration. The door to Talat's office was wide open and there was no way to slip in unnoticed. Having exhaled and straightened her shoulders, Defne confidently went along the corridor. If she must listen to notations, then with dignity. But she did not have to fight back from a tedious reprimand. A dark-skinned hand grabbed her wrist, pulled her into the office and closed the door behind her.
"This moron has been on guard for you for about five minutes," Seda enlightened, winking with a perfectly made-up eye. "He wants to make a scandal." Just entered, loudly announced that it was time to deal with lateness to work. This disrespect for the company and squandering the money of the owner. And then left the door open in his office. I understood that you are being watched.
"Wait," Defne stopped the flow of words. - Why are you at work? You have a legal day off today. You would lie at home and gain strength.
"I feel good," Seda assured in response and smiled dreamily. - Let the day off remain for the future. When Nisa is released home, and I can take her for a few days to a beautiful and peaceful place.
"How wonderful you are," Defne's eyes sparkled with tears suspiciously, Seda knit her eyebrows over her nose and said:
"Don't distract me." Тell me why you are late.
Defne hesitated. She was ashamed to talk about sexual harassment. Shameful and disgusting. But keeping it to yourself is worse. And she took a chance, told everything. About the harassment of Kivanc Talat. About the incident in the elevator. The fact that she hates him and does not imagine how she will continue to work in Tranba's company.
- Here is a goat! - Seda was indignant and angrily asked: - Why didn't you tell Omer?
"He will go crazy!" Defne answered and shook her head. - He will beat to death this moron. But Talat is a rare bastard, will report to the police. No! I can handle it myself. I am not a pampered young lady, after all, a girl from the neighborhood! Defne resolutely rolled up her jacket sleeves and clasped her hands into fists. "Let him just try to touch me again."
Seda hit her fist on Defne's fist.
"If anything, tell me." Together we will set him in the heat!
As if having heard what they were talking about, the object of conversation entered the office without knocking. Suspiciously looking both girls, he stared evilly at Defne.
- Why are you late?
Seda squeezed her hand in warning and stepped forward.
"Why did you, Mr. Talat, think that Defne was late?" She arrived on time and immediately entered my office. We looked at booklet sketches.
Kivanc's eyes were bloodshot and a nerve trembled on the cheekbone. Ignoring Seda's words, he ordered Defne, which looked coldly at him:
- Immediately go to my office.
Not a single muscle fluttered on Defne's face. Only disgust reflected in her eyes. She looked into his unpleasant face and did not move. Seda came to the rescue.
"Mr. Talat, you are exceeding your authority," she spoke again boldly and confidently. "Defne is not your subordinate, and you have no right to order her." As well to report for being late. I will be forced to tell Mr. Denise about this incident.
Talat's eyes twitched and his puffy face turned purple. But Seda didn't give a damn about the offended feelings of the creative director. She is the director herself. With the same rights and powers. Pointing her finger at the door, she ordered:
- Please, leave my office. Defne and I need to work.
- What?! - Kivanch cried and his crimson complexion became beetroot.
- What you heard! - cut off, Seda.
Having incinerated the girls with his eyes and panting, Talat left the office. The door behind him slammed shut with a bang. The girls looked at each other.
"You also made an enemy," Defne warned. "Maybe it wasn't worth it?"
- I don't care! - Seda answered confidently. - It was worth it! You are worth it. "She looked defiantly into Defne's eyes. "I know about your conditions for the contract, and why they gave me a loan so quickly." And I will never forget that. Like yesterday, she smiled with touching gratitude. "You're a great person, Defne, and a true friend." And for friends, I always stand up for.
- It's you - gorgeous! Defne swallowed a lump in her throat. - Strong ... Ready to keep the whole world on your shoulders ... - Seda grimaced imploringly, and she smiled with understanding and changed the subject: - How is Nisa?
- I called half an hour ago. The doctor said - everything is as it should be with a successful result - in the girl's voice sounded joy and relief. - The worst is over. Now the way to recovery. It will be а long one.
"Nothing," Defne put a hand on her shoulder. - We will go through it all together.
***
Omer set the pencil aside and looked at the drawing. Warm gold, ruby, diamonds. He repeated the key moments of Defne's sketch, only breathed his feelings into them. The ruby became larger and changed its shape to an oval. Like the diamonds. Slightly oblong, they framed the scarlet flame, like crystal-clear drops of water. Omer smiled faintly. He succeeded. Despite fear and uncertainty. (Here is a miracle! And who would have believed that Omer Iplikci might be unsure of something?). He took a chance and did it. He drew a ring in which was the whole essence of his Defne and his own, infinite love for her.
When he was waiting for her in the gazebo on the island, two rings were lying on the tray. He looked at the second, old and elegant, and suddenly he clearly understood. This ring is not Defne. It's his mom's. With a difficult, tragic story, it holds his mother's aura and will never change it. Defne should have something else. Her own.
He took mom's ring from the tray and put it in his pocket. On his return from the island, he began a search. But it was not what he was looking for ... And today Defne's drawing prompted him to think. Having never painted a piece of jewelry before, he picked up pencils and depicted exactly what he imagined and wanted for his beloved wife.
Looking away from the contemplation of the drawing, Omer picked up the phone and found the desired number in the contact list. When they answered him at the other end of the connection, he spoke:
- Ahtem? Hello, my friend! ... Yes, long time no see. I have a serious and urgent business for you. Are you in the workshop? ... Well, I'll be there in forty minutes.
Grabbing the drawings and warning Derya that he would be away for a couple of hours, Omer left the office. Faithful Sukru by the car open door was already waiting for him.
Exactly forty minutes later, Omer entered the jewelry workshop, which was hiding in the basement of the house in the Sariyer district. It was small in size, but well equipped and fortified like a small fortress. The owner, a young, black-haired man of about thirty, rose to meet the guest and opened his arms for a hug.
- Wai! Wai! Wai! Brother Omer! Long time we have not seen?
- Yes, only six months. I ordered you to make the wedding rings. Did you forget? - Omer answered brotherly hugging the man.
- What are you saying? How could I forget that? Well, how's family life? - he winked and pointed to a chair near the massive table. - Have a seat. I'll order tea now. Or do you need coffee?
"Tea will be fine," Omer assured and sat down on a chair. Crossing his legs, he smiled restrainedly and answered the first question: - Family life is wonderful. The best thing that can happen to a man is to marry his beloved girl.
Ahtem pressed a button on the intercom and asked for tea. And then he sat down in his chair, smiled broadly and said:
- Oh, yes! I envy my brother. But I can't make up my mind.
Omer patted his shoulder and winked:
- You will decide, brother. You will decide when you meet your destiny.
"May Allah," the man in a familiar gesture raised his palms in prayer and asked the guest: "So what is your important business?"
Omer pulled out sketches from a tablet folder and laid them on the table.
- What do you say about this?
He stared at the master closely. Ahtem laid out the drawings in front of him, looked at them for a long time, and then spoke:
- Both are very good ... The soul is visible. And what will we embody in gold and stones?
"This one," Omer pointed to his sketch. "And as quickly as possible." How much time do you need?
Ahtem, examining the drawing, thoughtfully stroking his beard. Omer waited patiently. But the man went to the safe, opened it and took out a flat, rather large box. He put it on the table and opened it. There, on black velvet, stones lay. Mysterious emeralds, proud sapphires, honey opals, and hot rubies. Separately placed diamonds of different sizes. Of impeccable purity, the stones caught the light, refracted it in their faces, and returned it with blinding rays.
"You choose," Ahtem pointed to the stones. "If there is what you need here, I'll manage in five to six days."
Omer leaned over the box. He looked at rubies for a long time and chose an oval stone of incredibly beautiful, clear and deep color. And to him fourteen slightly oblong tiny droplets of diamonds.
- Well! - agreed on the jeweler. "Your taste, as always, is impeccable." Today I'll start working.
He hid the box in a safe and turned to Omer:
- And the second drawing? Or did you got it for the company?
Ahtem winked at his friend cheerfully. He took a deep breath. He touched the matte paper and stroked the sketch.
"It's not just a drawing, Ahtem." This is a new life of the most important person for me. Look with your professional look and say: is there light?
The jeweler laid down the drawing in front of him and began to study it carefully and for a long time. Scrupulously evaluating every detail, he bit his lips and stroked his beard. And finally, he spoke:
- There is light. Very powerful. The designer has an impeccable taste and an exquisite soul.
"Would you agree to bring her work to life?"
And again a pause and thoughtful stroking of a beard.
A boy of about fifteen brought tea. He set it on the table, bowed to the men, and quietly went out. Ahtem took a sip from his cup, and Omer followed suit. He did not rush the old friend with whom he had once studied together in Italy at the Academy of Arts. He knew that he should think it over. Frivolous joker outwardly, in fact, he was a sensible and thoughtful person.
The theatricality with which Ahtem spoke a few minutes ago gave way to seriousness. He looked at Omer.
- It's hard to answer. First - this is only one drawing. I would like to see other works. Secondly, you know that I am an independent master and have never worked for anyone other than myself. I like to create an exclusive.
Omer leaned on the table and, bowing to Ahtem, spoke convincingly: - Other drawings will be. And you think carefully. Your work will continue to be exclusive. But you will not depend on the whims of the customer. Other people will be engaged in sales, and you and Defne will be able to completely surrender to creativity.
- Defne? - asked Ahtem vividly. - So the designer of this drawing is called Defne?
"Yes," Omer's face lit up with an inner light. - Defne. Defne Iplikci. My wife.
"With what pride you are talking about her," Ahtem smiled at one corner of his mouth. In this grin, Omer caught the sadness and guessed about its cause. But, knowing that the pride of his friend is not inferior to his own, he said nothing.
Ahtem shook his head and smiled again cheerfully and easily. He winked and promised: "Good." I'll think about it.
***
In the evening, after finishing work, Omer waited for Defne near the car. A handsome, confident man, he stood with his arms crossed on his chest and leaned his hip against the car and did not take his eyes off the automatic doors of the office center. The girls working in the building ran past and shot him a look, but he did not notice anyone. Tired, detached man. But when a slim girl with fiery hair fluttering behind her and shining amber eyes fluttered out onto the street the man transformed. He straightened up, smiled widely and a light flashed in his black eyes. In response, she smiled at him warmly and joyfully. And she allowed being embraced. And kissed with a short kiss right on the lips.
- I missed you so ... it was a long day did not see you!
- Me, too...
For a moment, just for a moment, they froze, enjoying each other's warmth, then Omer pushed his wife to the car. He opened the front door and, while she was sitting down, managed to stroke her back and arm, and even imperceptibly touch her chest with his little finger. Defne threw a laughing, embarrassed look at him and shook her finger. Omer caught her hand, kissed her finger and winked, smiling at the same time that Defne had a sweet tremble in her belly. Then, pulling his jacket, he went around the car and got into the driver's seat. Slamming the door, he reached for Defne again and kissed her gently and hotly.
"I dreamed all day ..." he breathed out in her ear and reached for the ignition key.
"Did you release Sukru again today?" - calming the butterflies excited by his kisses, and at the same time fastening her seat belt, Defne asked.
- Yes. I did not want to detain him overtime. Looking for a home is not a quick thing. Let's go together.
"Let's go," Defne agreed joyfully. "I love the two of us in the car ... to go and not to think about anything, just to enjoy."
- To what? - Omer asked on the road cheerfully.
"The fact that you are near," Defne answered without hesitation, and a hot geyser exploded in his chest. Crazy, crazy joy was in full swing. She enjoys ... she loves him! Open and free. How long had he dreamed about it! Driving the car with one hand and not taking his eyes off of the road with radiant happiness, Omer found Defne's hand and interlaced her fingers with his own.
And at the other end of the parking lot in black Mazda, a man sat, his eyes glowing with hatred, watching the Mercedes retreat. When the car was out of sight, Kivanc Talat took out his phone and made a call.
"Hello," came a slow voice.
- Did they take you?
"They did.
"That's great.
Talat deliberately with a slow, theatrical gesture dropped the phone into the inside pocket of his jacket and laughed a croaking, victorious laugh.
The Mercedes slowly rolled along the promenade. On the left poured the blue waters of the Golden Horn Bay, on the right, the city idly prepared to meet the evening. Cars burst from traffic jams and hurried to deliver their passengers to their homes. The lights of cafes and restaurants were lit up.
"Let's stop by for dinner first," Omer suggested.
- Come on! - Defne agreed and asked: - Just not in the chic restaurants where you need to wait an hour for an order. I know that you are an opponent of fast food, but let's drop into the usual snack bar, buy doner-kebab with ayran and have dinner on a bench by the bay.
"If you want it," Omer brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. - For a hundred years I haven't eaten doners, but why not.
- Hurrah! She jumped in the seat, and Omer laughed. He was ready to eat even earthworms if it will please his Defne.
They stopped the car in the parking lot near the street kiosk, bought a big doner and a bottle of ayran, and sat with all this on a bench by the bay.
The autumn evening was warm and quiet. The sun, approaching the horizon, gently shone in the face. Doners were delicious and juicy, and ayran refreshing. Omer and Defne enjoyed the evening, sunshine, food and just the fact that they were together. When empty bottles and napkins get to the trash bin, hand in hand went to the car. And they didn't even pay attention to the surprised passersby who, when they saw the cool Mercedes in the parking lot at the kiosk and the expensively dressed couple, who had dinner on the bench with doners and ayran, froze with open mouths and continued to stand even when the car pulled out onto the road and disappeared.
And Omer, well-fed and content, driving the car, realized with a smile that a dinner of simple doners turned out to be just as sophisticated and romantic as lobsters by candlelight in an expensive restaurant. The main thing is a woman who is nearby. It is she who makes everything brighter, more fragrant, tastier ... more magical.
- Do we have a long ride? - Defne cut off the chain of his philosophical thoughts.
"We almost arrived," Omer answered and turned right.
The car climbed up the hill and drove up to a large house surrounded by slender cypresses and a high fence. Massive oak gates parted and Mercedes drove into the courtyard. Its front part was lined with granite tiles with round gaps of blooming asters and marigold flower beds. The tiles went into the wide porch. The house itself was brick, orange, with huge windows and a red-tiled roof. Defne got out of the car and, throwing her head back, began to examine the forged railing of the balconies of the second floor and curved drainpipes.
- Do you like it? Asked Omer.
- A lot! She replied.
"Let's go see the yard first," Omer suggested.
He took her hand and led her to the granite tile paved path around the house. The yard turned out to be huge. In the middle of a lawn with short-cut grass, the pool beckoned with bright blue water. On the left was a small garden. Sweet cherries, peaches, and red-sided apple trees. In the corner of the courtyard grew an old branched oak. Defne immediately imagined a dollhouse on its branches and two mischievous faces looking out of the windows. Smiling at her thoughts, she looked at Omer. He answered her with a look of love and hope, and then he pulled her hand to the back yard. It was a mini-stadium. With a Swedish wall, horizontal bars of various levels and an excellent basketball court.
- Isn't it amazing? - rejoicing, like a boy, asked Omer.
"True," Defne agreed. "I have already fallen in love with the courtyard." And who will show us the house?
"The agent is waiting for us inside." Let's go in!
Omer led her to the front door. They were painted dark brown. Defne grimaced and firmly ordered:
- Let's repainted it in red, okay?
Omer laughed, hugged her shoulders and kissed her temple.
- Good!
The door was opened to them by a young, strictly dressed woman of about thirty. She smiled professionally and called into the house. Inside, it turned out to be empty and exactly as Defne dreamed. With parquet floors and white ceilings. Bright walls and a huge fireplace in the living room. Curved, wooden stairs. Large, comfortable kitchen, two modern bathrooms and four rooms on the second floor. And one tremendous dressing room. As Defne wanted. The five-sided, glazed annex housed a roomy office and a small gym. Everything was spacious, compact and very comfortable. Defne imagined the curtains on the windows, beautiful, comfortable furniture, fluffy carpets on the floor and smiled.
- Is this house what did you dream about? Omer asked when the agent stepped aside to call.
She nodded.
- And you? She asked in response. - Do you have any dreams here?
"Yes," he pulled her by the arm and hugged her. - In this house, now аre all my dreams. Are we buying it?
Defne nodded her head in agreement and, leaning back in his arms, looked into his face. Beloved, beautiful, dear face.
- We buy!
Allah! How he wanted to kiss her. Here she is such a sweet, funny, rejoicing, like a child. To grab her in his arms and circle around this cozy house, and so that she throws back her head and laughs fervently and uncontrollably. Omer glanced displeased at the woman agent. Not. Such feelings are not for prying eyes. They will still have the opportunity and time. A lot of opportunities and decades ahead to make each other happy and loved.
He reluctantly let Defne out of his arms. She pulled out her jacket and stood next to him. Just in time. The woman agent ended the phone call and walked towards them.
- Have you made a decision or will we look at other houses? She asked the couple.
They looked at each other and Omer firmly answered:
"No other houses." We are buying this one. You can start the paperwork.
"Great choice," the agent beamed. - This house is ideal for a large family. Documents will be ready in a couple of days and by the end of the week, you will be able to take ownership.
"Thank you," Omer shook her hand. "Waiting for your call."
They said goodbye and Iplikci headed for their car.
- Let me tell you! Defne looked into Omera's face. - Tomorrow is Saturday. Let's go shopping to look for the furniture? And the curtains? And the carpets? Ay, how many things! - She pressed her hands to her cheeks and shook her head.
Laughing, Omer kissed her nose and agreed:
- Let's go! Choose everything to our taste. On Monday, I will come here with a contractor and decide what kind of repair will need to be done.
"Don't forget about the door," Defne reminded him.
"I will not forget," he vowed.
They were about to get into the car, as Omer's attention was attracted by an apple tree with dark red apples.
"Sweetheart, sit down and wait for me a minute," he asked and went to the tree.
The apples, large, fragrant, beckoned and reminded of other apples ... and another night. Smiling mysteriously, Omer tore off one, the largest and most beautiful, and returned to the car. Climbing into the salon, he held out the apple to Defne.
- Do you remember? - Asked and burned her with his eyes. Defne brought it to her face and, closing her eyes, inhaled a sweet-fresh smell.
"I remember ... how can I forget?"
Hoarseness appeared in her voice, which shook in Omer's chest. He exhaled and hurriedly started the car. Hurry up! Gо home. Take cover from prying eyes. Close the door behind them and finally get to Defne. He looked at her. She answered with a blazing gaze.
The Mercedes drove outside the courtyard and rushed like an arrow to the ascetic house with the red door.
They began to kiss as soon as they crossed the threshold. The door slammed shut ... A red apple rolled across the floor ... Shoes and clothes fell to the floor and left a gray-blue-white path to the bedroom itself. Hands impatiently wandered over the body. Strong - on the fragile and tender body ... thin - on the dark and strong. Lips met and merged in impatient desire and hot passion.
In the room, Omer exhaled: "Tradition," he grabbed the naked wife in his arms and fell with her on the bed. He wanted to be gentle and unhurried, but a frantic desire and Defne did not allow him. One like boiling blood in the veins, the second bent, moaned, wrapped her arms and legs around him and begged:
- Please, please...
He burst into her deeply and violently. He groaned from burning pleasure and could no longer stop. He pushed again and again ... burned in the fire ... reveled in sweet lips and, trembling with impatience, begged:
"Please, my love ... please ..."
Defne arched and groaned hoarsely and sweetly. Omer let go of himself. The movements became convulsive, abrupt. Breath has torn. With every blow, a burning wave of pleasure rose higher ... higher ... and splashed out in a hot stream. He clasped Defne with both hands over her shoulders and clutching her slender body with all his strength, threw back his head and growled...
The waves receded. Calmed down, and from the raging, wild turned into quiet and affectionate. Gently rocked, exhausted bodies and whispered to them the innermost secrets that there is nothing more beautiful and more important than love and tenderness in life. That in this love is the meaning of life ... its continuation ... that it is it, each time, day after day, from century to century, from millennium to millennium, that saves this world and fills it with beauty and life itself.
"Ice cream," murmured Omer, yet with his body, holding Defne on the bed.
- What? - Rocking on the gentle waves of pleasure, she asked.
"We did not eat ice cream today," he got up on his elbows and looked into her beloved face shining with serene bliss.
Defne smiled.
- I'm dying, I want ice cream. Vanilla.
***
The weekend went for shopping and sensual pleasures. The day began with kisses and ended with them. Defne hovered in the sky. Everything was the way she dreamed. Not! Everything was better. She could not even dream that the "ice waterfall", always restrained and laconic Omer would turn into an open, warm man, not hiding his love and not holding back his tenderness and passion. And this man belonged to her! Entirely and completely. Adored her, cared for, carried on his hands and fed ice cream ... He loves her with unconditional love.
And he didn't even remember the contract with Tranba. On the one hand, it pleased Defne, and on the other, it hurt - why did he put up so easily and did not insist on his own? Not that she changed her mind, but...
This is what Defne was thinking when sorting out her jewelry and choosing what would suit the small black dress with bare shoulders and a horizontal satin insert on her chest, which she was going to wear at the reception to mark the awarding of the winners of the best shoe manufacturers in Turkey. And she didn't choose anything. There was not what she wanted. Too defiant, the wrong style, or just the decoration she didn't like. Rummaging around in the box, she decided not to wear anything. Tiny gold earrings in the ears and an engagement ring will suffice.
And loose, beautifully styled hair by itself will become an ornament. Having made such a decision, she hid the box in the nightstand and got out of bed. It is six o'clock in the evening and she needs to hurry. The hairstyle and makeup were ready, all that remained was to put on a dress and shoes - black, open, with an interweaving of suede straps strewn with rhinestones. It is those that Omer gave her for her birthday. Defne smiled at those memories. How then she was happy and at the same time unhappy. She was dying of fear and going crazy with pain and guilt. And now - just happy!
She pulled her belt and threw off her silk robe. She put on the dress and tried to fasten it. It turned out difficult. She spun and bent until Omer entered the room. After the shower, he was smelling with a tangy male perfume and was dressed in one towel around his hips. Approaching his wife, he easily coped with the zipper, kissed her shoulder and went to the dressing room to dress. She looked at him and sighed doomed. Beautiful as a god! Well, how can you not love him?
Omer came back some ten minutes later. Raven black tuxedo, matching bow-tie, snow-white shirt, and impeccable classic shoes. Defne, who at that moment was checking the contents of her black suede bag, looked up at her husband and froze, fascinated by his beauty.
"You're gorgeous," burst out from her.
Omer beamed in a smile. He took her palms in his hands, kissed and, caressing her beautiful face, said:
- You are great! The most beautiful and elegant woman in the world.
- True? Defne's face turned pink with pleasure. She stepped back and whirl. The bell-skirt beautifully tossed around the slender legs in black open shoes, and again sank to her knees.
- Did you put on my gift! - Omer was delighted and caught her hand.
"Of course," Defne smiled. - Your shoes are perfect for this dress.
"You're right," the delighted Omer kissed the graceful curve of the neck and ran a finger around. "Why didn't you wear jewelry?"
Defne sighed in frustration and shrugged her shoulders.
- I couldn't pick anything up. There is nothing that fits.
"If all is not right, then think up your own," Omer winked at her. - Are you a designer or not?
He straightened up, took her under the elbow and led her out of the house. Defne mechanically walked, as his words spun in her head: invent your own. And this has already made its way to the imagination. She saw a thin gold chain and on it a pendant - elegant, elongated, sparkling with small diamonds around the rare beauty of impeccable rubies. And in the ears - the same earrings. In the car, Defne continued to ponder the jewelry. She sat quietly as a mouse and looked thoughtfully out the window. Omer, guessing what thoughts roam in the pretty head of Defne, was silent and prayed that they would stay there for a long time.
Raffles Istanbul Hotel majestically towered over Istanbul, the Bosphorus and, it seemed, over all of Turkey. The modern high-rise building shone with lights and beckoned to itself with its elegant luxury.
Sukru stopped the car at the main entrance and hastened to open the back door. Omer got out of the car first. With a refined gesture, he adjusted his tuxedo and offered his hand to Defne. She put her fingers in his palm and with a graceful movement got out of the car. Omer bent his elbow and smiled encouragingly at his wife. His gaze said - you are beautiful. I love you and am proud of you. She answered him with an excited smile and took his arm. Slowly, they entered the hotel and took the elevator to the top floor, where an award ceremony and a banquet were held in a luxurious pink-marble banquet room. The huge room, shining with lights and decorated with fresh flowers, was filled with expensively and beautifully dressed men and women. Between them, waiters scurried about with trays in their hands. With silent courtesy, they offered guests drinks.
Noticing Sinan and Seda at the other end of the hall, Omer confidently led Defne to them. They walked around the hall: a handsome, dignified man and a lovely, graceful, sophisticated woman. They walked and attracted the views of all, without exception, those present. A whispered phrases stretched behind them:
"She is his wife and also a designer ..."
"Imagine she defeated him in a contest. Him! The brilliant Omer Iplikci... "
"She is incredibly beautiful ..."
"And he! He is very sexy ... "
Defne's fingers on the bend of his elbow tensed and Omer immediately covered them in a reassuring gesture with his hand. Slightly squeezed and mentally said:
"Do not be afraid of anything! I'm with you. I love you and I won't let anyone harm you. "
"I know," Defne answered him and squeezed his elbow tightly.
The first worry passed and encouraged by Omer, she almost calmly examined the magnificent hall and the expensively dressed audience. More precisely, women and the jewelry they chose to wear. And in each found a mismatch.
This chocolate dress needs delicate opals, not a bulky diamond necklace.
And to that girl's eyes - aquamarines.
Ah, why did this woman wear pearls? It does not go either to her skin or her dress.
Strange, but she saw what jewelry should be and mentally drew them on white sheets of paper.
And Omer quietly squinted at his wife and slyly smiled with the corners of his lips.
- Gorgeous Iplikci! Sinan exclaimed, and winked at his friends. - You, as always, the embodiment of beauty and elegance. Defne, are you ready to receive a reward?
Defne shrugged vaguely and jokingly answered:
- And what, you need to somehow prepare for this especially?
- And speech? - Sinan was indignant at overflows of restrained laughter of Seda and Omer. "I expect you to mention me and Passionis in it."
"Sinan, you are pushing with the delicacy of a bulldog," Omer said and laid his hand on his wife's waist. - Defne herself will figure it out.
"Of course she'll figure it out," Denise Tranba who approaching supported him. - Defne is a smart and tactful girl. In addition, an employee of Tranba.
Iz which came up with him and held his arm arched an eyebrow arrogantly and teased:
- What a subtle hint. But let me remind you - precisely Omer taught the skills of the designer Defne.
Denise looked at his companion and sparks lit in his eyes.
"Are you always such an ulcer, Mrs. Iz?" He asked in admiration.
"Do you have something against it, Mr. Denise?" - parried Iz, and the impudent little devils in her eyes danced а lambada.
-Not! - instantly answered Tranba. "I am delighted with your character."
"Me, too," agreed cheerfully Iz of what caused the rest to laugh amicably.
"Iz, like Iz," Sinan winked. - Self-confidence and a sea of charm.
"And the tongue is like a razor," added Denise. "But it's never boring with her."
Defne did not believe her eyes and ears. Tranba falls for Iz. And she, too, seems to be.
Holy heavens, Defne prayed mentally. - Let it be true. Let Iz find her love and happiness and forget about Omer. And I will finally breathe a sigh of relief! "
The palm on her waist moved a little higher and pressed against her back.
"You will make a great couple," Omer turned to Denis and his ex-girlfriend, and everyone present, including Defne, opened their mouths in surprise. He looked around his friends incomprehensibly and asked: - What did I say?
"Omer Iplikci comments on someone else's personal life," Sinan explained. - This is from the category of fiction.
"I will comment on yours also," widened eyes added to open mouths. And Omer continued quite calmly and confidently: "You and Seda are just an amazing couple." Take note and do not be an indecisive fool.
Tranba and Iz laughed, Sinan blushed, Seda winked at Omera, and Defne, still trying to get away from the shock, threw back her head and looked at her husband's pleased face. He looked in front of him, smiling, and his thumb drew intricate patterns on her back.
Everyone was happy and content. Laughing at jokes and enjoying the atmosphere of triumph and luxury. And no one noticed how, at the other end of the hall, Kivanc Talat, measuring the six with an evil look, stopped the waiter passing by. Taking a glass of champagne from a tray, he said something quietly to him and indicated the cheerful company. He nodded and looked at Defne. Beautiful woman. Sorry for her. But money is more important.
Defne enjoyed the evening, the company of funny and witty people, but most of all the warmth that Omer's hand gave her on her back. From time to time, his fingers moved and goosebumps ran through her body. She raised her face to him, and he looked with a look of love and promise.
"Soon," his eyes said. "Soon the crowd will disperse, we will close the doors of our house and stay only us..."
At such moments, her heart skipped a beat, and then pounded like mad.
She felt thirsty. It was as if a waiter had grown up from under the ground with a tray laden with glasses champagne and white wine. Defne turned to him and her gaze met with familiar blue eyes.
- Mert! - she exclaimed in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
"I work," the boy answered quietly. "Together with mom," he pointed with his eyes to a beautiful woman in the uniform of a waitress.
- She works here all the time, and they take me to such events.
"What a splendid fellow you are," Defne said admiringly, "and how glad I am to see you!"
"Me too," the boy flashed a smile and immediately became serious again. "But I can't linger near you." If they notice, they will rebuke me. Take a glass and I go on.
"Who are you whispering with," Omer turned to them. - Mert? Do you work here?
"I earn money," the boy replied, and, nodding, went on to deliver the drinks.
Defne, having forgotten what she wanted to drink, looked after him. And she saw herself in him. A seventeen-year-old girl on whose shoulders life laid the burden of responsibility for a whole family.
"Don't be sad," calmed her а soft, velvet voice. "We will think about how to help him."
Defne did not answer. She only gratefully looked into the black, radiant eyes.
The rewarding began. Passionis and Tranba received the laurels of the best shoe manufacturers in Turkey. Hall applauded. The men took the awards restrainedly thanked for the honor and went down from the stage.
Omer went to his wife. Ignoring the congratulations and cheering exclamations, he bowed and kissed her. She hugged him back. Just for a moment. But how much happiness was in those short seconds!
- And now the highlight of our evening! – solemnly announced the host. - The best designer in Turkey in 2016! I am happy to present her to you, gentlemen. The charming and talented Defne Iplikci!!!
The hall exploded with an ovation. Under a flurry of applause, Defne went on stage and received from the hands of the head of the committee of Turkish shoe manufacturers a figurine in the form of a crystal with an elegant shoe engraved on it.
Smiling, she looked into the hall. Many faces merged into a quivering fog among which stood out one, beautiful and proud. Omer. He looked with pride and boundless love. The excitement is gone completely. She went to the microphone and smiled.
"Thank you," she answered simply and left the stage.
The ovations got even louder. The brevity and modesty of the best designer in Turkey were liked by everyone. And only Kivanc Talat came out with malice and rage. They burned out his brain and did not allow breathing. He looked at a nearby waiter and nodded to him. He nodded in response.
When the congratulations and hugs ended, Omer took the figurine from Defne's hands and whispered in her ear:
- I'll take it to the car. And you wait for me. I promise a surprise.
- Surprise! Her eyes lit up with anticipation. He winked and hurried to the exit. Defne looked after him and looked around. Friends broke into pairs and danced to the beautiful music. Defne watched them with a smile, as suddenly someone touched her arm.
"Madame Defne, they are waiting for you," the waiter addressed her. "Let me guide you."
"Omer's surprise," Defne smiled and went after the waiter.
He led her out into the corridor and to the door that led to the roof. Without hesitation for a second, Defne opened it and climbed the steps in the cool of the autumn night. The phone rang in her purse. Omer. Smiling, she replied:
- Where are you, darling? - asked a worried voice.
"Were you called me," she answered gently.
- What? Defne, where are you? Omer shouted from the speaker when a sticky hand closed her mouth.
The phone flew down. Defne inhaled air with her nose and caught a familiar smell. A mixture of tobacco and sugary sweets. She tried to scream, but the man's hand pressed strongly on her lips, and the second grabbed her wrist and turned her hand behind her back.
- Well, baby? Shall we have fun? A hateful voice sounded over her ear.
Omer returned to the hall, but Defne was nowhere to be found. He went to the dancing Sinan and Seda, but it turned out that they did not see her either. Like Denise with Iz. Cold with fear, but hoping that maybe his wife had gone into the ladies' room, he called her phone. And he heard that she was there where he had called her. And then the sound of a blow and her phone fell silent. His heart sank. Chilling horror escalated into a panic. He rushed to the exit of the hall. Sinan and Denise ran after him. Omer circled in the corridor. Where can she be? Where to run to? Which door to open. He rushed to the first one, but then someone grabbed his hand. Distraught with fear, he looked around. Mert's blue eyes looked at him.
"It wasn't you who called her to the roof?"
The roof?!!!
- Not!!!
- Faster! - the boy ran to the door at the end of the corridor but managed to shout as he walked: - I saw a new waiter leading Defne to the exit to the roof. But I thought that you called her there.
Omer flew up to the closed door and yanked it. Locked. Outside, there was a muffled sound of blows and a choked scream. Defne ... He hit the door with all his strength. Again. It sat tight.
- Wait! - Mert grabbed his hand and pushed him away. He began to fumble near the jamb and finally found a spare key. In an instant, he inserted it into the keyhole and opened the door...
Defne struggled with all her might, but they, these forces, were not equal. This time, the surprise factor was not on her side. She was bitting,scratching, but in vain. Talat held her tight and pushed her to the edge of the roof. Defne resisted, but elegant shoes are not comfortable sneakers. Heels glided over the tiles of the helipad and did not help at all. At some point, she managed to hit the bastard with a sharp elbow in the side, and he released her from his hands. She rushed to the door, but Talat caught up with her and threw her onto the rough concrete of the roof. He tried to tear her dress, but the satin fabric did not yield. Growling with anger, he grabbed Defne's knee in an attempt to spread her legs. She screamed and clawed her nails into his face. Kivanc howled in pain. His bloodshot eyes lit up in fury. He raised his hand to strike and Defne squinted. Now a heavy fist will hit her face and...
It became easy for her. The overweight body no longer pressed her to the roof. Defne opened her eyes. Omer, her Omer with a distorted from rage face held Talat by the collar of his neck and raised his fist to strike. He hit him with such force that Talat flew away a few meters and was imprinted on the concrete roof. Omer pounced onto him. With fury, he struck blow after blow, and the bastard only wheezed and shouted curses. Sinan ran up to Defne and helped her up. Denise pulled off his jacket and wrapped her in it. And then he ran to Omer. He grabbed his hands behind him and dragged him away from Talat who grimaced with a bloody mouth. Omer twitched, but Tranba held him tight.
- Omer, calm down! - he shook him. "You will kill him." This scum is not worth a prison.
Omer was breathing heavily. He didn't care. The fury demanded an exit. The bastard attacked Defne. Offended his Defne!!! Omer looked into his face. Talat got on all fours and raised his face, which had turned into a mess, to Omer. He spread his lips in a grin and laughed an eerie, croaking laugh, and then spat out the words:
"Well, genius Iplikci, your pure wife was tarnished!" Do you want her like that now?
The inhuman scream tore the night.