Arzu hastily mumbled a few words and barely managed to send Natya away.
She ran her hands through her hair, staring in shock at the patterns of the carpet.
"Ugh... This must be a dream. How could he get inside? He can't. It's impossible."
She was muttering to herself, but her voice was full of doubt.
As if trying to convince herself, she looked back at her body.
Those marks...
Those bruised kisses...
"These... these are passion marks! It's obvious!"
Suddenly, a brutal truth exploded in her mind like a sledgehammer,
hitting her in the face with the cold slap of the divorce papers.
Her eyes searched for her laptop.
It was sitting on the table across the room.
She rushed over and flipped it open.
And there it was.
It hadn't gone anywhere.
The divorce petition was staring her right in the face, centered on the screen.
"You stupid woman... Ugh, idiot!"
she muttered, hitting her own head.
"What are you? Some naive heiress?
Thank God the man turned out to be a pervert; otherwise, with this level of stupidity, I'd have handed over all the wealth too!"
Anger, shame, confusion...
Everything was tangled inside her.
She then hurried toward the bathroom.
She paused at the door, letting her nightgown fall at her feet.
"My drunk self has been officially confirmed... If I ever drink again!"
she said, slapping her lips lightly, and walked into the bathroom.
Surrendering to her desires...
had clearly not served her well.
But it had certainly served someone.
At the same time, Ateş Yamanoğlu
was seated at the head of a huge conference room, surrounded by a room full of executives.
The meeting was being held for him, yes,
but his mind had long left the room.
His eyes were vacant,
scenes from last night playing over and over in his head.
Arzu's half-naked form,
her startled, sleepy gaze,
the way she wrapped her arms around his neck...
His lips dried; he swallowed.
Just the thought of her
was enough to awaken a maddening desire within him.
When Arzu stepped out of the bathroom, she carelessly wrapped a towel around her hair and grabbed her phone.
The notifications were piling up.
One, two, three... five... increasing with each second.
Thanks to her shattered old phone, she had actually escaped many people.
But bless her drunken self — in the divorce petition she sent to her law firm last night,
she hadn't forgotten to list her current contact number.
As her finger swiped across the screen, one message caught her eye.
Her eyebrow arched involuntarily.
Sender: Fatih.
"Arzu, please... I care about you so much. Don't push me away."
Care?
Ah... such an easy word.
It takes less than a second to say it.
But filling it with real meaning takes years.
Fatih...
We met in university.
He was always my closest friend.
We graduated together.
Then, to defy my father's conglomerates, we founded a law firm from scratch.
Side by side, shoulder to shoulder...
He was the only man I ever truly trusted. A friend, a partner.
And this man...
Even knowing my husband was cheating, stayed silent.
Even though he was planning to flee, he said nothing.
He betrayed me by staying silent.
And what kind of "care" does that silence show?
Care?
No.
Like everyone else who emptied that word of meaning,
he was only ever loyal to his own interests.
Everything, every word,
was just a giant charade.
She quickly got dressed. She paused for a moment before the mirror, looking at herself.
The fatigue under her eyes betrayed the storm inside her.
She took a deep breath and went downstairs.
Today, she would have a cheerful breakfast with Mert, then head to the company.
She would stand tall amidst the wreckage, clinging to her son's laughter.
Because by now, the trouble her husband had caused had crossed not just mountains, but continents.
The subject of the big company meeting later that afternoon was clear:
Lost reputation.
An empire on the brink of collapse.
And the only solution to save it: a management change.
All the partners agreed that the chaos could only be resolved if FK Group took over.
Although Arzu wasn't completely at ease with the idea, she, too, had warmed to it.
Until the financial director's words shattered her.
"Ms. Arzu, yes, your family founded this company... but the one responsible for this damage is also a member of your family. Therefore, all partners have filed a compensation lawsuit against you personally."
She frowned.
"This is illegal! I told you during the last meeting too," she said angrily.
The finance director looked away, answering awkwardly:
"Technically, ma'am, it's not entirely illegal.
All the contractor agreements regarding the company's shares were made in your name.
In other words, all the investments were tied to your personal liability."
Arzu's mouth dropped open, her eyes widened.
"What do you mean? My father was a man who wrote the book on these matters. He was always cautious.
He used to say: 'Business is a gamble, Arzu. You win, you lose, but you never shoulder someone else's loss!'"
The director lowered his head.
"Yes, ma'am... but your husband didn't share that philosophy.
He canceled all of your father's old contracts and replaced them with new ones.
In the new contracts, you are the sole liable party.
That's how he grew the company so fast.
He promised investors a risk-free paradise.
Because the documents proved that any losses would be yours alone."
A heavy silence fell.
Then Arzu's breathing grew shallow, her chest tightening.
"This... this is like shooting yourself in the foot,"
she was now merely whispering.
"Why would he do this?"
The director cleared his throat, about to explain, but Arzu turned on her heel and started walking away.
Whispering to herself:
"I'm bankrupt. I've lost everything."
When she left the building, the air felt even heavier.
To her, money wasn't important.
She could make a living as a lawyer.
But her son, Mert...
His future, his security...
Those were tied to the company, to that family name.
And his future had been destroyed — by his own father's hands.
"You never loved me, fine... you forgot all about love, fine.
But how could you betray our son?"
she muttered, pressing the elevator button.
A few floors down, the elevator stopped. As the doors opened slowly, Faruk entered — hands in pockets, wearing a smug smile.
"Ooh, the beauty herself has graced the company,"
he said, giving Arzu a once-over.
But Arzu didn't have the strength to deal with his sleazy, dirty energy.
She simply turned her head and stayed silent.
Faruk leaned closer, flashing a predatory grin.
"Wait a minute... So you found out about your husband's stupidity, huh?"
Arzu's brow furrowed. Their eyes met.
She hissed:
"I can't stand your filth or your games. Find yourself another toy, scumbag."
Faruk's eyes gleamed. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close.
They were now nose to nose.
A sly grin spread across his lips.
Arzu turned her face away in disgust.
Right at that moment...
Faruk noticed a mark on Arzu's neck — a lingering kiss mark.
His eyes lit up.
His laughter echoed inside the elevator.
Empowered by what he saw, he pressed the stop button.
He slowly slid his hands down from her waist to her perfectly shaped hips,
pressing her against his body.
Arzu flinched.
She clawed at him, trying to push him away.
But he was strong.
Instinctively, she leaned backward to maintain her balance.
Faruk grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him.
"So... you've filled the void your husband left behind, huh? What was it for? Money, power... or pleasure?"
He brought his lips dangerously close, his breath hot against her skin.
"Ah... I can satisfy you generously on both counts,"
he whispered disgustingly.
"Come to my hotel tomorrow night.
I'll return your shares... and gift you a night of pure pleasure."
Then, as if nothing had happened, he stepped back.
Pressed the elevator button.
When the doors opened, he stepped out smiling.
Arzu stood frozen.
Her stomach churned.
Inside her burned a fire — of rage, disgust, rebellion.
She began to silently curse everyone responsible for putting her in this position.
Her husband came first.
Then her own naivety, her drunkenness, her emotional void...
And lastly, that car dealer scum, Yaman! (Well, actually Ateş — but you'll find that out later, darling.)
She pulled out her phone from her bag. Fingers trembling, she typed:
"How dare you mark me? Thanks to you, I received an obscene proposal!
Don't you ever show your face again!"
She hit send.
And then she just stood there.
For a while, thinking nothing.
Until the strength returned to her body...
And the thirst for revenge began to pulse through her veins once more.