Hello, I'm Arzu.
Have you ever heard of wounded women?
The kind who always give more than they have, who make the impossible possible, who run in every direction until they are exhausted... A warrior outside, a passionate woman at home. A good mother, a model citizen, a loyal wife... That's how our story begins.
What society demands from us never ends. Be better, be more patient, be stronger... Always give more.
And yet, in the chaos of all this, we women truly long for just one thing:
Love and loyalty.
But sometimes…
Even that is denied to us.
I am Arzu, and yes, I am one of those wounded women.
Now, I am trying to find my own path.
You know the saying, "Born with a silver spoon in their mouth"?
Well, I was one of those people.
But this life isn't as shiny as it seems.
Wealth doesn't always walk hand in hand with happiness.
Sometimes, the deepest misery grows in the shadow of blinding opulence.
My mother came from a noble and influential family. So did my father.
Their marriage was sealed not with love, but with an agreement — a kind of business deal.
Family interests weighed heavier than two young hearts.
They married without truly knowing each other, standing side by side without ever truly touching.
Maybe you're expecting violent scenes like the ones shown in traditional TV dramas — shouting, abuse, chaos...
But no.
In our home, the violence was silence.
The heaviest kind.
My mother was ignored for years.
She had everything money could buy: mirrors with golden frames, crystal chandeliers, silk curtains...
But none of it brought warmth.
Amid abundance, she was condemned to a lonely emptiness.
The house was too vast to contain her loneliness.
My father rarely came home, and when he did, he hardly spoke a word to her.
The silence between them cut deeper than any harsh words could.
And then, one day, a glimmer of hope appeared in my mother's faded life.
A baby... Me.
When she found out she was pregnant, it was as if all the withered flowers inside her bloomed again.
I became the branch she clung to for life.
She started living for me, loving life for me.
That's why I made a promise to myself:
I would marry for love.
But life...
No matter how far I tried to run, no matter how desperately I tried to escape, fate's thin thread tied me back to my mother's story.
How could I have known that my end would mirror hers?
My husband, Kerem…
I met him at university — a brilliant, scholarship student.
He was fiercely ambitious, fighting for everything in his life — grades, internships, projects…
And me.
He chased after me for years.
That unstoppable determination in his eyes sometimes scared me, but mostly, it pulled me in.
His drive, his passion, his persistence...
By our final year, we were together.
It felt inevitable.
Kerem was a software engineer.
He would spend sleepless nights writing endless lines of code, meticulously building his future step by step.
Meanwhile, I was studying law, trying to carve my own path through the cold, sharp rules of justice.
Kerem's warm presence gave me strength.
When my father passed away, he left behind a vast empire of companies.
For the first time in my life, I felt truly alone.
I had no choice but to be strong.
Yet, I needed someone to trust.
And that someone was Kerem.
Managing the companies was like a chessboard for Kerem.
He made decisions, took risks, made investments...
We grew together.
As the company's shares rose, so did our dreams.
The scale expanded, the profits multiplied.
Before we knew it, we were among the country's elite.
Exclusive parties, luxury galas, endless invitations...
Our names shone among the jet set.
But somewhere along the way, the ambition in Kerem's eyes shifted into something else.
His passion no longer fed on love but on power and status.
Yes, he had become one of them.
One of those cursed socialites.
We have a son.
He's only four years old.
Maybe he won't understand the woman I became — the one forged by betrayal and revenge.
But I have made a decision:
I will no longer be a wounded woman.
And so, let me take you back to the night when the fairytale ended, and the nightmare began...
One Year Earlier;
"My love, have you seen my navy suitcase?"
Arzu called out to Kerem with a smile from the vanity where she was fixing her hair.
Kerem, rummaging through the closet, raised his voice:
"In the dressing room, bottom shelf. But it might be too big—there's a black cabin-size one downstairs, darling."
After adjusting the tie he chose for his black suit, Kerem grabbed the suitcase and began packing his clothes.
His movements were hurried, restless.
It felt as though he wasn't just leaving for a business trip—he was running away.
Arzu entered the dressing room to fetch her shoes. She approached Kerem from behind and placed a small kiss on his cheek.
Then her gaze caught the suitcase.
There was an amused smile on her lips.
"Sweetheart, aren't you going away for just three days? Looks like you packed up the whole wardrobe!"
The flicker of panic on Kerem's face lasted only a second.
He quickly recovered, but his fingers, adjusting his tie, trembled slightly.
"It's a very important meeting, my love. What if I spill something on myself? I couldn't decide what to wear… So I packed extras."
Arzu chuckled.
"You're such a worrywart!"
As Kerem checked his reflection in the mirror one more time, Arzu slipped on her burgundy stilettos.
Just as she was about to leave the room, Kerem's eyes caught some papers lying on the vanity.
His face tightened instantly.
"My love, you still haven't signed those documents? I told you, I need them urgently!"
Arzu noticed the impatience in his voice but brushed it off.
She nodded lightly.
"I haven't had a chance to read them yet, darling."
Kerem's lips pressed into a hard line, the shadow of panic flickering in his eyes.
"Come on, Arzu, I'm your husband. You think I'm trying to scam you?"
Arzu laughed, shaking her head.
"Haha, don't be ridiculous! Occupational hazard, I guess. You know, accountants sometimes make a mistake—add or drop a zero here and there... It's just a habit."
Kerem quickly grabbed the documents.
"Please, sweetheart, I've checked them over and over. I'm running late!"
He thrust the pen into Arzu's hand almost desperately.
Arzu glanced at his twitching foot, his bitten lips.
Shrugging, she signed the papers.
While her hand moved across the page, Kerem's eyes never left her fingers.
He even watched how she held the pen, his breathing shallow and rapid.
As Arzu set the pen down and looked up at him, she smiled slightly:
"Sweetheart, what's going on with you? Are you okay?"
Kerem quickly averted his eyes.
"Ugh… I'm just nervous about the meeting. I have to go!"
Clutching the signed papers tightly, he rushed toward the door.
Arzu watched him, puzzled, as he paused briefly at the doorway, glancing back at her one last time.
That look…
Cold.
Tense.
Like a goodbye.
Arzu frowned slightly.
"What was that look?" she murmured.
But then she shrugged.
"Whatever it is, we'll talk about it when he comes back."
Except Kerem never came back.
---
"Fatih, you don't understand!" Arzu sobbed. "Kerem never boarded the plane! He never checked into the hotel! He literally… he walked out that door and vanished. His car's still here — he took a taxi! How can they not accept him as missing?! We need to file a lawsuit!"
Fatih tried to hold her steady, keeping his voice calm.
"Arzu, please... I spoke to the officer. He'll explain when we get there."
But Arzu's breathing was ragged, her words tumbling out in a broken rush:
"Fatih, I'm scared... It's been two weeks since Kerem disappeared.
I can't even look at Mert's face anymore!
What will I say when he asks, 'Where's Daddy?'
He's already getting cranky, missing him…
I can't comfort him anymore."
Her voice cracked, and tears streamed uncontrollably down her cheeks.
Each word she spoke seemed to chip away a piece of her soul.
Fatih clenched his jaw, the rage and fear burning simultaneously in his eyes.
"We're almost there, Arzu. Come on... let's finally get some answers."
"Okay."
The hour-long wait at the police station had drained what little patience Arzu had left.
The cold walls and the ticking of an old clock made every second feel heavier.
She finally couldn't take it anymore and shot up from her seat.
"This much waiting is not normal!" she snapped.
"I'm a lawyer!
Someone needs to give us answers, or this will turn into a lawsuit!"
A police officer gave her a firm look and lifted his hand, signaling them to come over.
"Come with me, please."
Arzu and Fatih followed him, their hearts pounding.
The desk was littered with old, stained documents and cold cups of tea.
The air was thick, suffocating.
The officer gestured toward the chairs:
"Sit down."
Arzu sat anxiously, her palms sweating, her heart hammering in her chest.
Finally, the officer spoke:
"We've completed the investigation regarding your husband… but we cannot classify him as missing."
Arzu's eyes widened.
"What do you mean?"
The officer took a deep breath and pulled out some documents from the file.
"Because your husband is a fugitive."
Arzu's lips parted, but no sound came out.
Her breath caught.
"I don't understand... What are you saying?
Listen, officer, my husband is a respected businessman!
These are baseless accusations!
You're just delaying this on purpose!"
The officer, expressionless, laid the documents on the table.
"Your husband," he said gravely, "has defrauded 58 shareholders, including you.
The scam totals nearly 120 million dollars."
Arzu's heart seemed to stop beating.
"And..." the officer continued, "he purchased two tickets, fled abroad.
First stop: Thailand.
Beyond that, his trail is lost.
That region is notorious for networks that create new identities and make people disappear across the world.
In short, your husband ran away."
The room fell into a heavy silence.
Arzu's eyes became glassy.
Her pulse slowed, her ears buzzed.
The words couldn't fully reach her mind; they just echoed endlessly inside her:
"Your husband ran away..."
At that moment, Fatih hissed through clenched teeth:
"He ran off... with that woman."
Arzu's eyes sparked to life again, rage coursing through her veins like a bolt of lightning.
She snapped her head toward Fatih and demanded, her voice trembling with fury:
"What woman?!"