Arzu couldn't comprehend the sheer audacity of the man standing before her. For years, she had been bound to him with love, exhausting herself to feel worthy in the name of their marriage. And yet, the story was always the same… Whether educated or not, a professional or a housewife—whether you married for love or for reason—at some point, women were always crushed beneath the same wheel. Giving endlessly, mothering their partners, embracing the burdens imposed by society without question… And the most painful of all: forgetting to love themselves.
At that point, no matter what your name, identity, title, or life was, you became the same woman: struggling to be seen, constantly overlooked.
Arzu now saw this with harrowing clarity. Unknowingly, she had followed in her mother's footsteps, chasing the love her mother had never received from her father. In her desperate attempt not to forget how to love herself, she had fallen asleep in the bitter arms of loneliness. And the man now standing before her… was nothing more than a monumental disappointment she had wasted years on.
She gently shook her head, as if trying to brush away the thoughts. Then turned her eyes to Ateş and said softly:
"Yaman… No matter what he's done, he's still Mert's father. Please… let it go. He's not worth it."
The veins on Ateş's temple throbbed with fury. He was gripping the man by the neck with enough force to bring him down in a single move. Arzu spoke again, this time calmer, but with firm resolve:
"Yaman, my mother is here. We're in a hospital. Please… she'll be frightened."
Ateş raised an eyebrow, his jaw clenched tight. Then, with a sudden release, he let go of the man's throat. Kerem collapsed to the ground, gasping for air, coughing violently as he tried to recover.
Arzu pulled up a chair and sat directly across from him, crossing her legs. Behind her, Ateş stood like an avenging angel, unseen wings shielding her.
Once Kerem caught his breath, Arzu locked eyes with him. "Now. Whoever you've had following me and my mother—you're going to call them off. All of them. Then, you'll go straight to the police. You'll confess that you defrauded me by forging my signature."
Kerem, weary but still defiant, stared back at her.
Arzu leaned in slightly, her gaze sharp as a blade. "You need to do this, if you ever want to look Mert in the eye again."
Kerem swallowed hard. "It wasn't me… I can't call them off," he muttered.
Arzu's eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "What do you mean? They just decided to come after us on their own?"
Ateş wanted to wrench the truth from him with one move, but out of respect for Arzu's strength, he held back. He only watched. Kerem finally gave in, his voice drenched in defeat:
"It was… Işıl. She convinced me to transfer the shares to her before we fled. Said we'd be safe that way. We went to Thailand first, then Bali. We invested everything in an online gambling syndicate. Promised tenfold returns… and lost it all in one night. When I woke up the next morning, she was gone. Just vanished. After that, I borrowed from the syndicate to make up the losses… and lost that too. I was on the run for two years. I couldn't even return to my own country…"
He unbuttoned his shirt to reveal a bullet scar on his stomach. "Look, Arzum… look! They shot me too. Those men don't belong to me. When Işıl realized the shares had lost their value, she hired them to claim your part of the assets…"
Ateş clenched his teeth in rage, nearly growling. One thought pounded in his mind like a war drum: He's undressing in front of my woman. He's calling her 'my Arzu.' Bastard.
As if she had heard his thoughts, Arzu turned her head slightly toward him. Their eyes met. She reached out and gently touched Ateş's arm. That single touch brought him back to himself. He took a deep breath, calming slightly.
Arzu turned back to Kerem. "What's this woman's full name? Where can I find her?"
"Işıl… Işıl Gemici," he replied hoarsely. "But I don't know where she is. It's been years since she left me."
Arzu jerked her head in a sharp nod. "Fine! Get out. And don't ever show your face to me again."
"Arzum… I… uh…"
Kerem flinched as a furious growl echoed from the room. Ateş was cursing under his breath, barely containing his rage. Kerem's lips trembled as he struggled to continue:
"I… okay, Arzu. When can I see Mert?"
A bitter smile spread across Arzu's face. She leaned in again, her voice as cold as ice, her tone like a cruel insult:
"First, go clear your name. Get yourself off the missing persons list. Then sue me. Whatever visitation rights the court gives you, that's all you get. But let me tell you something: every single day my son stays away from a disgrace like you is a blessing to me."
She practically spat the last words, then growled through clenched teeth: "Now. Get. Out."
Kerem, burning with shame and anger, sprang to his feet and rushed to the door. Just as he reached it, Ateş spoke, his voice like a shadow rising from the depths:
"Your flowers, your cookies… pathetic! These women wouldn't even throw your trash in their bins."
The line made Arzu's mother chuckle. With a sly giggle, she echoed, "Exactly… filthy rat!"
Kerem, face flushed red, grabbed the flowers and cookies and fled the room. Arzu, staring blankly into space, whispered a name under her breath:
"Işıl Gemici… so that's who…"
An hour later, after a peaceful stretch of time and a reminder from the nurse that her mother needed rest, Arzu began to gather her things.
Sure! Here's your translated passage into English, preserving its tone, flow, and meaning:
"Mom, we're leaving now. I'll visit every day. Mert and I will be waiting for you when you're discharged. Get plenty of rest," she said, hugging her mother and kissing her forehead.
"Alright, my beautiful girl. Take care of yourself," her mother replied, her voice tired but content. Then, she turned her gaze to Ateş.
"Yaman, my son… Arzu is in your care now."
There was a determined glint in Ateş's eyes.
"You have my word, ma'am," he said, bowing his head respectfully.
The moment they stepped out the door, one of Ateş's men approached them.
"Sir, the documents you requested," he said, handing over a file. Ateş took the file but didn't even glance at it—he passed it directly to Arzu.
Frowning, Arzu asked,
"What's this?"
Ateş lifted his chin slightly and replied in a low voice,
"That slut Işıl's dossier. Might come in handy."
Arzu's eyes sparkled with intrigue.
"You... you're serious? When did you even get all this? How?"
With a roguish grin, Ateş stepped closer. Arzu instinctively stepped back and flinched when her back hit the wall.
"What are you doing? Stop looming over me like that!"
Ateş leaned in, biting his lower lip with amusement as he whispered,
"Last time I loomed over you like this… a few minutes later, you were in my arms."
His breath grew heavier, his voice deepened.
"And then... you spent the whole night under me."
Arzu's face turned crimson in an instant. She quickly covered his mouth with her hand.
"We're in a hospital! My mom is in the room right behind you! How can you be this... shameless?!"
Ateş couldn't help himself—this woman hadn't changed a bit. She was still the same feisty little sparrow he'd parted with years ago.
And he had missed that sparrow so damn much.
He gently kissed the hand covering his mouth. Arzu instantly pulled it back.
"What are you doing?!"
"Tasting it," Ateş said with delight.
"This is the first hand to dare silence these lips... I'm simply savoring the experience."
Arzu shook her head and sighed.
"I'm leaving. My son's waiting," she said, and hurried off.
Ateş watched her retreat with a satisfied smile, completely enchanted by her every flustered step.
That evening, Arzu settled onto the outdoor patio furniture in their spacious garden. Mert and Natya were splashing and laughing in the pool. She took a sip of her coffee, opened her laptop, and started reviewing the file carefully.
Işıl Gemici. Twenty-six. Born in Istanbul. Lost her parents, raised by an aunt. Dropped out of university. Worked as a club dancer, escort... eventually offered so-called massage and wellness services to the elite.
Arzu felt her skin crawl with every sentence. How could someone so young subject herself to such a life?
Then she skimmed through the assets—and her eyes widened.
Not just the real estate she'd taken from Kerem… there was so much more.
This woman had built an entire fortune.
But then why was she still after them? Why did she need men to take what she wanted?
Running her fingers through her hair, Arzu tugged hard in frustration.
What the hell was this? What was really going on?
Then, one particular line caught her eye:
Fanatik Futbool Club.
That… that was the club Kerem had sponsored for years. A place he frequented often.
But why would a woman be a member there? Especially one paying regular dues?
And that was when Arzu made up her mind. Maybe this club was the link between all the men Işıl had swindled.
She grabbed her phone and quickly dialed.
"Fanatik Futbool Club, VIP Services Office. How may I assist you?"
"Hi. Işıl Gemici recommended you. I'd like to become a sponsor and join the events."
"Wonderful! Welcome. I'll need to verify your eligibility. May I have your name?"
"Um… I'd prefer not to give my name."
"I understand, but I can't complete your registration without it. Don't worry, you'll be assigned a new alias for the club. Plus, you'll be masked—your identity will remain completely confidential. In fact, our club policy prohibits members from revealing personal information."
Arzu frowned.
"…Alright. Arzu Bayrak."
She heard quick keystrokes on the other end.
"Bayrak Holdings, 32% ownership. However, it seems there's been a decline in value. Your real estate assets fall below our VIP threshold. I'm afraid we can only offer you a yellow-tier membership."
Arzu felt like she'd been slapped.
How did they have access to her personal data—her bank accounts?
She swallowed hard.
"But… my friend has a different tier."
"Ms. Işıl is a red-tier member. But your net worth doesn't qualify for that level."
Arzu was in shock, struggling to process what she was hearing. She could barely breathe.
What kind of insanity was this? What the hell was going on?
Suddenly, the woman's voice turned cheerful.
"Ah, but wait just a second! You do qualify—for another reason! Your nobility score checks out!"
Arzu blinked. Her what?
"You come from a very influential family," the woman explained. "Your last name carries innate power. That's highly valued among our members. You know how it is—last names marry in high society. With a red-tier membership, we can activate your account immediately. You're in luck—we have a club night this week. I'll email you all the details: location, time, dress code, everything. Shall I proceed with your membership?"
Arzu clenched her jaw, her eyes blazing with fury.
Who knew how many women these monsters had already destroyed?
But now, it was time to meet them face to face.
And with firm resolve, she spoke the words that would set everything in motion:
"Yes… Please proceed."