Arzu unlocked the apartment door with a smile. Unlike the cramped and cluttered homes back in Turkey, this place was bright, open, and inviting. The high-ceilinged living room blended seamlessly into an elegant American-style kitchen, and tiny balcony gardens framed each window like pieces of heaven.
Mert hurled his backpack onto the floor and threw himself onto the couch with a cheer:
"Yay! Pizza and movie night!" he shouted, pure joy radiating from him.
Arzu laughed, slipping off her trench coat and hanging it neatly on the wall hook.
"Of course, sir," she teased in that warm, motherly tone. "But I'm afraid we don't serve pizza to dirty little monsters. March yourself into the bathroom, wash up, change your clothes, and then you may be served."
Mert grinned and dashed down the hallway, calling out:
"Okay! I'll be quick! Mom, can you order some onion rings too?"
Still chuckling, Arzu grabbed her phone.
"You got it! I'll add them to the order," she said.
She slipped into something more comfortable—loose lounge pants and a simple white tank top—and tied her hair up in a quick ponytail. Moments later, Mert returned, freshly changed and bouncing with excitement.
Together, they sank into the couch, the perfect duo ready to dive into a night of films and junk food. The magic of the evening had just begun...
Until Arzu's phone vibrated.
The name "Jack" flashed across the screen.
She sighed inwardly. Persistent guy... What could he possibly want now?
Putting on her best polite voice, she answered:
"Hi Jack, hope everything's okay?"
Jack's cheerful voice filled her ear:
"Hey, Arzu! Leylia just told me your guests canceled. We figured—why waste the night? Let's turn it into a wine evening! We're on our way!"
Arzu's face froze, her mind reeling.
How on earth did Leylia find out?
Her eyes darted to Mert.
Of course. Her sweet-talking son had, once again, unintentionally sabotaged her plans.
Forcing a smile into her voice, she said:
"Alright, Jack. We'll be here."
Hanging up, she folded her arms and turned to Mert with a raised eyebrow:
"Mert, sweetheart... Did you, by any chance, mention our movie night to your friend?"
Mert dropped his head, guilt spreading across his little face.
"Umm... yeah, Mom. You know how we share a farm in the game? I told her I couldn't help harvest tonight because we were gonna watch movies. Did I do something bad?" he mumbled, lips trembling.
Arzu fought hard not to laugh at her chubby-cheeked boy.
"You didn't do anything bad," she said gently. "But sometimes, when we don't want to do something, we tell a little fib... That's what I did today with Leylia's dad. I made up a tiny excuse. But when you told the truth, our little secret plan kinda fell apart."
Mert looked crestfallen.
"I'm sorry, Mom... I didn't mean to betray the team," he said, blinking innocently. "I promise, next time I'll be more careful!"
Arzu's heart melted.
"Deal," she said, opening her arms wide.
"Now come give your captain a hug!"
Mert flung himself into her embrace with pure enthusiasm.
As she hugged him tightly, Arzu picked up her phone and mumbled with a grin:
"Better double the pizzas... They're not gonna be enough tonight!"
She kissed the top of his head and asked:
"Okay, tell me—what's Leylia's favorite pizza?"
Mert didn't miss a beat:
"Tuna fish!" he exclaimed.
"Got it. Let's get this party started," Arzu said, smiling as she finalized the order.
Minutes later, the doorbell rang.
Jack stood there with a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a bottle of Italian wine in the other.
Leylia, in her pink dress, looked like a little storybook princess beside him.
With a flirtatious lilt to his voice, Jack said:
"Hey! We're here!"
Arzu stepped aside, offering a polite smile.
"Come in," she said warmly.
Jack handed her the flowers and wine.
"Thank you, Jack. That's very thoughtful," she said gracefully.
But before she could even react, Jack slipped an arm around her waist and pressed a quick kiss to the corner of her mouth.
Arzu stiffened, recoiling slightly.
"Please don't, Jack..." she whispered, her voice trembling.
Taking a deep breath, she looked down, gathering herself.
"Look... I get it. We're both single parents. But I'm not looking for anything... and I don't feel that way about you. I'm sorry."
Jack hesitated, his face falling for a second before he straightened himself with a casual shrug.
"I'm glad you're honest. I just didn't want to hide my feelings," he said, stepping further inside.
And with a forced cheerfulness:
"Anyway, what's on the menu tonight?" he grinned, settling onto the couch.
The kids had already started arguing excitedly over which movie to pick.
For Arzu, it was clear:
It was going to be a long night.
But dear reader...
Do you really think it was only going to be a long night for Arzu?
Oh no... Far from it.
Meanwhile, back in Turkey, Ateş Yamanoğlu—built like a tank—was hunched over his massive desk, signing document after document.
The sharp buzz of his phone snapped his attention to the screen.
Peter.
He frowned.
Why's he calling?
After Arzu had left him, Ateş had eventually found her trail. But pride had kept him from chasing after a woman who clearly didn't want him. Still, unable to bear the thought of losing track of her completely, he had hired a journalist in Manhattan to quietly keep tabs on her, sending discreet photo updates.
Until now, he'd never felt the need to interfere.
But Peter calling out of the blue...
Ateş picked up the phone, his voice cold and sharp:
"Yeah? What's going on?"
Peter's hesitant voice came through:
"Sir... I thought you might want to know... I sent some photos. I had a feeling this woman was important to you, emotionally speaking."
Ateş's teeth clenched so hard his jaw twitched.
His blood pounded with rage—and dread.
Barely containing himself, he replied:
"Fine. I'll look. Thanks."
He hung up and opened the laptop, muttering darkly under his breath:
"Emotionally important... Pfft. Everyone thinks they're some damn love guru. What value could a woman who left me possibly have? It's just... curiosity."
But the moment the email opened, his heart lurched.
There she was.
Arzu.
In a sloppy outfit, standing at her door...
Greeted by a man holding flowers.
And then—
Their lips met.
Ateş threw his head back and roared a curse that shook the walls, slamming the laptop shut with a force that rattled the desk.
He shot to his feet, his chest heaving.
"I thought she'd be left alone for once... Turns out, a damn parasite has already latched onto her!"
He shook his head furiously, trying to banish the image—but it wouldn't leave.
That man's lips—on his Arzu.
"He kissed her! That son of a bitch kissed her!" he snarled. "Who the hell do you think you are, you little mutt? First time at her door and you're already all over her?"
Just then, Cem, his business partner, walked in—and immediately recoiled at the fury radiating from Ateş.
"Whoa... Something huge just happened! Okay, I'm outta here—" Cem said, already backing toward the door.
"Get back here!" Ateş barked.
Cem grimaced.
"Bro, I am not sticking around for one of your rages tonight. I'm gone!"
But Ateş's eyes locked onto him like a predator.
"Is any of our jets free? If I wanted to fly to Manhattan right now?"
Cem blinked. Then burst out laughing.
"You're kidding! All this over that Bayrak Holding heiress? What was her name again—Ar...?"
"ARZU!" Ateş thundered.
Cem sighed, stepping back in and closing the door behind him.
"Look, man... What if she tells you to get lost again? Last time you lost your mind, it took us a year to put you back together!"
Ateş turned to the window, his voice a broken mixture of anger and heartbreak:
"I saw a man kissing her, Cem. She left me behind—but opened her door to someone else."
In a flash of rage, he crushed the glass he was holding, shards embedding into his hand—but he didn't even flinch.
Cem paced for a moment, thinking.
Finally, an idea lit up his face.
"Okay, okay—listen. Let me call Peter. I'll have him figure out a way to get that guy out of her house immediately. You give it two days. Cool down. Then decide what you wanna do with a clear head."
Ateş's burning eyes finally softened—just a fraction.
At least he'd know no one else would be near her.
"Fine," he growled.
"Tell him he's got thirty minutes. I want that fly gone."
Cem rushed out, dialing his phone.
Ateş dropped back into his chair, reopening the cursed email, staring at the photo once again.
And in that quiet room, his clenched teeth hissed the words like a deadly vow:
"If another man dares touch what's mine... I'll rip his damn lips off."