Chapter Two Hundred and Thirty-Four
It had been eight days. Eight unbearable days. Asli had counted every single one. The room wasn't a prison.
It was worse.
A prison admitted you were a prisoner. This room pretended to be kindness. Every meal arrived on time. Every blanket was replaced before it grew cold. Every medicine she refused somehow returned to her bedside.
They treated her as though she were made of fragile glass.
She hated it. More than she hated the truth. More than she hated knowing Ahmet shared her blood.
She had threatened Settimo twice. The first time, she'd promised to shoot him the moment he unlocked the door.
The second time, she'd calmly informed him she'd burn the entire Villa to the ground if he kept her there another day.
The old man had simply looked at her regrettably. Then quietly told the guards to make sure she ate. She had never wanted to strangle someone so badly.
What made it worse...
...was the window.
It overlooked part of the estate.
