## Episode 2: The Stranger Who Knew Me
**Narrated by Dilara Aslan**
I sat frozen in the velvet chair, trying to make sense of what I had just heard.
Half-brother?
Alihan stood by the door, still as a statue, but his eyes scanned the room — scanning me. Those eyes. Still deep. Still sharp. But older now. Hardened. Like the world hadn't been kind to him.
"This is ridiculous," I said, turning to Selma. "There's no record of another heir. No press scandal. No mistress. Nothing."
Selma remained calm. "Your father requested this remain private. His will was very clear, Dilara. Alihan is legally recognized. A DNA test confirmed it."
I laughed. Or tried to. It came out broken.
"You expect me to believe that my father — Murat Aslan — had a secret son, and I'm just supposed to… accept it?"
Alihan spoke. His voice had the same softness I remembered, but with weight now.
"I didn't ask to be part of this."
"But here you are," I snapped.
He didn't flinch.
"I grew up with nothing," he continued. "I didn't even know his name until two years ago. He found me. Not the other way around."
I stared at him. "And now what? You want half of everything?"
"No," he said simply. "I want to know why he waited."
That silenced me.
---
Later that night, I stood on the balcony of my father's mansion, the city lights flickering below like fireflies. My reflection in the glass looked like a stranger — painted lips, perfect waves, diamond earrings. None of it mattered. Not now.
He was in the guest room. My so-called brother.
I remembered the boy by the fountain. The way he looked at me like we shared a secret. But I had buried that memory. Until today.
I didn't sleep.
---
**Morning came too fast.**
I found Selma waiting in the drawing room again, flipping through folders.
"The inheritance is tied to conditions," she said.
"Conditions?" I asked sharply.
"You and Alihan must live under the same roof for thirty days before any assets are transferred."
I blinked. "What?"
"It was your father's request. He wanted both heirs to… reconnect."
I scoffed. "Reconnecting implies we were ever connected."
Selma didn't smile.
"One month, Dilara. Then you can claim your empire."
I could feel the walls closing in. I had built my life on control, on image, on independence. And now I had to share my space, my world, with a stranger who might — or might not — be my brother.
But I also knew this: I didn't come this far to lose everything.
"I'll do it," I said. "But if he crosses the line even once—"
"He won't," Selma interrupted. "I think you'll find he's not the one who's afraid of the truth."
---
That night, I passed him in the hallway.
Neither of us spoke.
But the tension between us said everything.
---
**To be continued...**