Emrah Decide to go shopping for himself and to buy something special for his parents and an alert came the moment Emrah stepped onto the marble-lined boulevard.
Not loud.
Not urgent.
Just a calm, undeniable certainty in his mind.
Infinity Weapon detected.
Proximity: Close.
Emrah slowed his pace.
Across the street, framed by glass and gold, stood the Audemars Piguet boutique—its façade understated, elegant, confident enough not to scream its value. The kind of place that didn't need to advertise power. It assumed it.
So you're here, Emrah thought.
He entered.
Cool air washed over him, carrying the scent of polished wood and quiet wealth. Inside, time itself seemed to slow—every tick measured, deliberate. A woman behind the counter looked up and smiled professionally.
"Welcome, sir."
Emrah nodded, leaning lightly on his cane.
System, he said inwardly. Scan the shop.
A brief pause.
Scan complete.
Infinity Weapon identified.
Form: Timepiece.
Location: Rear inventory. Secured safe.
A watch.
Emrah's lips curved almost imperceptibly.
The clerk gestured toward the displays. "Would you like to see something specific, sir?"
"Show me what you recommend," Emrah replied calmly.
She studied him—his cane, his relaxed posture, the absence of visible extravagance—and made a decision.
"Of course."
She brought out entry models first. Elegant. Immaculate. Respectable. As she fastened one around his wrist, her tone remained polite but distant—professional kindness without expectation.
Emrah didn't mind.
He felt them before he saw them.
Presence detected.
Observers identified.
Across the street, behind reflective glass, Efsun and Efsane stood frozen.
He noticed us?
Impossible.
Emrah gently tapped his cane once against the floor.
The sound echoed—soft, controlled.
He looked at the clerk. "Those two women outside are with me. Please let them in."
The clerk blinked. "Sir?"
"They're helping me choose."
A moment later, the boutique door opened.
Efsun and Efsane stepped inside, stunned.
"You've never noticed us before," Efsane said quietly, eyes narrowed.
Emrah smiled. "You're standing in a room ruled by time. Hiding is harder here."
They exchanged a glance, then sat beside him.
Efsun leaned closer, whispering, "So… shopping for yourself?"
"For everyone," Emrah replied. Then, turning to the clerk:
"Bring me everything currently available."
The clerk laughed politely—then saw his expression.
"Oh."
Minutes later, trays filled the counter. Complications. Tourbillons. Openworked masterpieces. The atmosphere shifted. Staff from the back emerged. Someone whispered.
Then Emrah saw it.
Sand gold. Openworked. A flying tourbillon suspended like a heart beating in defiance of physics.
Royal Oak Selfwinding Flying Tourbillon.
The Watch.
"That one," Emrah said immediately. "For me. I'll wear it now. Bring the paperwork."
The room went silent.
Efsane picked one for herself—bold, elegant. Then another. And another.
"One for my family," she said simply.
Efsun followed, choosing with instinct rather than hesitation.
"They'll love these."
The total climbed. No one said the number out loud.
When Emrah fastened the watch to his wrist, the world… paused.
Just for him.
The tourbillon stopped.
Once.
Then spun faster than normal—too fast—before settling into a rhythm that felt alive.
Pairing complete.
Third Infinity Weapon acquired.
Designation: Infinity Watch.
Emrah exhaled slowly.
I'll learn your secrets later.
Outside, Dubai glowed—golden, hungry, alive.
Efsun slipped her arm through his. "You didn't even hesitate."
"I don't bargain with destiny," Emrah replied.
They moved from store to store after that—tailored suits, couture dresses, shoes worth more than cars. Laughter replaced tension. For the first time in a long while, Emrah wasn't planning a war.
Night fell by the time they returned to the Lamborghini Urus.
Efsane rested her head against the seat. "You seem… lighter."
"I finally am," Emrah said, watching the city lights blur past.
On his wrist, the watch ticked.
Waiting.
Watching.
And somewhere—far beyond Dubai, beyond time itself—something ancient smiled.
Because the Watch had waited a long time.
And it had finally found its master.
When they arrived back at the hotel, Emrah's phone buzzed.
Aslan:Dinner's ready. Restaurant floor. Everyone's waiting.
Emrah smiled faintly.
He stepped out of the Lamborghini, cane in one hand, luxury shopping bags in the other—Audemars Piguet, tailored boutiques, discreet black-and-gold handles that spoke of money without shouting it. Efsun and Efsane walked beside him, relaxed now, their earlier excitement softened into something warmer.
Inside the hotel, the restaurant glowed with amber light. Marble floors reflected chandeliers like frozen constellations. Every member of the families was already seated around a long table—Aybeyli, Saygın, Haznedar, Ergün—talking, laughing, alive.
For a moment, Emrah simply stood there.
In another timeline, he thought, this table never existed.
He stepped forward.
"Sorry we're late," Emrah said calmly.
Conversations stopped. Smiles spread.
"There he is," Cengiz said with a satisfied nod.
"You look happy, son," his mother added, studying his face carefully.
Emrah inclined his head. "I am."
He took his seat between Efsun and Efsane, resting his cane beside the chair. The bags were set down discreetly behind him. No one commented—they didn't need to.
Adil leaned back, exhaling contentedly.
"I have to say," he began, lifting his glass, "this is the best vacation I've ever had."
Küreyş chuckled. "And we haven't even been here a full day."
"Good food," Adil continued, gesturing around, "no gunshots, no meetings, no funerals—just family. That alone makes it perfect."
A soft laugh moved around the table.
Then the food arrived.
Plates were placed one by one—grilled meats, saffron rice, seafood glazed in gold-tinted sauces, dishes crafted like art but meant to be eaten without restraint. The scent alone silenced the table.
Everyone dug in.
Conversation became easy. Stories replaced strategies. Even the guards standing at a distance looked more relaxed than usual.
Emrah took a bite, then another.
For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, he wasn't calculating outcomes.
Wasn't listening for danger.
Wasn't watching the future fracture into possibilities.
He simply… existed.
The Infinity Watch rested against his wrist, quiet. Respectful. Almost asleep.
Efsun leaned closer. "You look peaceful," she whispered.
Emrah nodded slightly. "I am."
And as laughter echoed through the restaurant and glasses clinked softly beneath Dubai's night sky, Emrah allowed himself to believe—just for this moment—that peace was real.
Even if he knew better.
Because peace, like time, never stayed still for long.
When Emrah entered the hotel room with Aslan, exhaustion hit him all at once.
Dubai's lights still glowed beyond the windows, but his body was already surrendering. Aslan mumbled something about showering and disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Emrah alone with his thoughts.
Tomorrow, he planned hazily, I'll do it quietly. No entourage. No noise.
A secret purchase. A Bugatti.
He didn't know yet that the car would become far more than indulgence—it would become an asset, a turning point.
Sleep took him quickly.
At exactly two in the morning, warmth pulled him back from the edge of dreams.
A gentle weight.
A familiar scent.
Emrah's eyes fluttered open to see Efsun, her hand resting lightly against his chest. She smiled, soft and dangerous all at once.
"Ease up, big boy," she whispered.
She leaned down, her lips brushing his hand, then his cheek—slow, deliberate. When her lips finally met his, Emrah froze for half a second before instinct betrayed him.
Then—
The door opened.
Efsane stood there, a master key card still in her hand.
Her eyes flicked from Emrah… to Efsun.
In one swift motion, she pulled Efsun back by the shoulder and claimed Emrah's lips herself—bold, unapologetic, as if staking territory.
When she finally pulled away, the room was silent except for heavy breathing.
Efsane turned to Efsun, her voice calm—but razor sharp.
"Never do this again," she said.
"Not without telling me. Don't piss me off."
Efsun clenched her jaw. She knew that tone.
And she knew Efsane meant every word.
This wasn't teasing.
This was war.
The first real fight between them—and it was over Emrah.
Caught between them, Emrah said nothing.
He felt it now—the pull, the danger, the inevitability.
Attraction sparked where logic screamed retreat.
This is bad, he told himself.
These women are chaos. Fire. Trouble.
They were nothing like the calm life he claimed to want.
And yet…
As he lay there, heart racing, watching the tension crackle between them, Emrah realized something unsettling:
He wasn't resisting anymore.
He was only denying the inevitable.
The room was finally quiet.
Efsun rested against his chest, breathing slow and steady, one hand lightly curled into his shirt. On the other side, Efsane lay close, her arm draped across his torso. Both women, lethal and sharp in life, were utterly vulnerable in sleep.
Emrah let himself relax for the first time in hours. The battles, the planning, the shopping—it all weighed on him. For a moment, he simply held them, feeling the rare peace of the early morning.
Hours passed, and finally, around 6 AM, he knew it was time.
Carefully—so carefully—he began to slip free. First, he eased Efsun's hand from his chest, replacing it with the pillow so slowly that she only murmured and turned in her sleep. Then he gently lifted Efsane's arm, guiding it back against her side. She stirred slightly but did not wake.
They slept on.
Predators at rest.
Emrah rose, silent as a shadow. He dressed just enough to leave without drawing attention, took his cane in hand, and cast one last glance at the two sleeping women.
Outside, Dubai was waking. The city was a symphony of luxury, danger, and temptation, stretching infinitely before him.
He slid into the Lamborghini Urus, its engine a low purr in the pre-dawn stillness. The Bugatti gallery awaited—a prize he had been dreaming of, and the Infinity Watch on his wrist pulsed faintly, as if sensing the moment.
Once.
Twice.
The tourbillon stuttered, then spun faster—reacting not to time, but to a car.
Emrah stopped. His breath caught.
"…It can't be."