Innocent in the Dark

Chapter 5: Shadows of the Past

​Third-Person POV

​After spending hours under the freezing spray of the shower, Açelya finally turned off the water and wrapped herself in a plush bathrobe. Catching a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror, she recoiled. Her bloodshot eyes from hours of crying and her deathly pale skin made her look like a ghost of herself. Shivering, she threw on some clothes and crawled into bed.

​A soft knock echoed through the silence of her room. The door pushed open, and Cem stepped inside.

​"Açelya? How are you doing, beautiful?" he asked, his voice laced with forced concern.

​"I don't know," she murmured, staring blankly at the ceiling. "I'm just tired."

​Cem let out a heavy sigh, crossing his arms. "Look, this is exactly why I told you not to involve yourself in my business. Stay out of it. Because of your reckless stunt, that man took all his rage out on me."

​Açelya squeezed her eyes shut. "Please, brother. Just drop it. I don't want to talk about this anymore."

​Seeing her fragile state, Cem didn't press further. He turned around and slipped out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him. Once he was safely in the hallway, he pulled out his phone and dialed a familiar number.

​"Not bad," Cem whispered into the receiver. "You scared her so badly she looks like a literal corpse walking around."

​On the other end of the line, Ateş Kılıç leaned back in his leather chair, his brow furrowed. "What I don't understand is how a man could do something like this to his own sister."

​That was the thought that had been nagging at Ateş ever since the warehouse. He had two younger sisters of his own. He would gladly take a bullet for them; he had always been more of a father to them than a brother.

​Cem gave a cold, dismissive chuckle. "That's family business, Kılıç. Don't worry about it. The important thing is she won't be sticking her nose into our affairs anymore. You can rest easy." With that, Cem hung up.

​Açelya didn't sleep a wink that night. By morning, her tear-stained eyes were bloodshot and heavy from exhaustion. She had no intention of going down for breakfast, but her sanctuary was abruptly shattered when her grandmother threw the door open.

​"There isn't a young woman in this house—there's a corpse," Handan barked, glaring at her granddaughter. "Look at the pathetic state you’ve put yourself in."

​"Grandmother, please," Açelya begged, her voice cracking. "Don't start. I'm really not feeling well."

​"Oh, enough with the theatricals!" Handan snapped. Reaching down, she grabbed Açelya by the arm and shook her violently. "You can fool your uncles with this pathetic act, you worthless girl, but you can't fool me!"

​Before Handan could yell any further, Akın stormed into the room, his eyes blazing with fury.

​"MOTHER! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" Akın roared.

​Handan straightened up, completely unbothered. "What you should have done years ago. You failed to discipline her, Akın. So I will."

​"My daughter's discipline is none of your damn business!" Akın stepped between them, his posture lethal. "Get out of her room. Now."

​"How dare you speak to me—"

​"I said get out!" Akın thundered.

​Startled by her son's rare, explosive rage, Handan sneered and swept out of the room. The moment she left, Açelya collapsed back onto her pillows, utterly exhausted.

​Akın’s heart ached at the sight of his broken daughter. He turned to leave at first, but his conscience wouldn't allow it. Walking back to the bed, he sat on the edge and gently began to stroke her tangled hair.

​The unexpected warmth of her father's touch broke the last dam holding back her emotions. Tears streamed down Açelya's cheeks.

​"Açelya, what's wrong with you?" Akın asked softly. "Talk to me, sweetheart."

​Açelya pushed herself up, throwing her arms around her father's neck. "Dad... I just don't feel good," she sobbed into his chest.

​Akın couldn't fully comprehend the depth of her despair, assuming it was just the delayed trauma of the recent chaos their family had been through. He kissed the top of her head, gently wiping away her tears.

​"Alright. Stand up, pull yourself together," Akın said, offering her a small, comforting smile. "You and I are going out. Just father and daughter, we're having breakfast outside."

​The idea brought a faint glimmer of relief to Açelya. She desperately needed a distraction. The terrifying image of a gun pressed against her brother’s temple was still replaying on a loop in her mind. She quickly changed and followed her father downstairs.

​"Go wait in the car," Akın told her as they reached the foyer. "I just need to grab some important corporate documents from the study."

​As Akın turned, Nil stepped into the hall, her arms crossed. "Maybe you should take your son out for once, Akın."

​Akın stopped, turning a cold glare on his wife. "How many times have you taken Cem out for breakfast while leaving Açelya locked up in this house? Shut your mouth, Nil." Without waiting for a response, he headed upstairs.

​Nil sneered, turning her bitter gaze toward her daughter. "What's the matter? Ran to your daddy to complain about me?"

​"Mom, please. Just leave me alone," Açelya whispered, turning on her heel and walking out to the courtyard.

​In the yard, she spotted her uncles, Caner and Altan, deep in conversation. Caner caught her eye and flashed her a warm smile before turning back to Altan. They were quietly discussing the events of the previous night.

​Flashback

​Dressed in a plunging neckline, bold red lipstick, and a striking mini skirt, İrem Sert had commanded the attention of every single person in the high-end restaurant. But Altan Demir remained entirely unfazed.

​"If you'll indulge me, let me introduce myself properly," İrem said, her voice smooth like silk. "I run a business connected to various arms firms. And from what I hear, you happen to dabble heavily in weapons smuggling."

​Altan raised an eyebrow, taking a slow sip of his drink. "And your point is?"

​"The point, Mr. Altan, is that I want to form a partnership with you," İrem purred, leaning forward. "We both like playing with fire." Beneath the table, she intentionally slid her leg up against Altan's.

​Altan's expression hardened. He smoothly pulled his leg back, his eyes narrowing. "If you did your research on me, Miss Sert, then you should know I did mine on you. Word on the street is that you are heavily partnered with Ateş Kılıç. The mortal enemy of the Demir family."

​İrem didn't bat an eye. "True, I am," she whispered, intentionally knocking her fork off the table. As she leaned down to retrieve it, she deliberately flaunted her revealing neckline right in front of Altan’s eyes. Straightening up, she smiled wickedly. "But I want a partnership with you, too. You're the younger son of your house, and I'm the ambitious daughter of mine. We both run our families from the shadows. That means we'll understand each other perfectly."

​Altan folded his hands on the table. "Thank you, but I will have to respectfully decline your offer."

​"I can bring you more clients, Altan. More heavy artillery than you can imagine," İrem pushed, her tone growing desperate.

​"I already possess all of those things, Miss Sert," Altan replied coldly, his phone buzzing on the table. He picked it up and stood. "Now, if you'll excuse me, my wife is calling."

​"She's playing both sides—partnering with the Kılıç clan while trying to deal with us," Caner muttered, shaking his head. "What the hell is her angle?"

​"Her goal is simple," Altan replied grimly. "She wants to crush one of us. Either she breaks her alliance with Ateş to crawl under our wing, or Ateş is the one who sent her to bait me."

​At that moment, Akın walked up to his brothers. Wanting to keep the peace, Caner and Altan quickly dropped the subject of İrem. After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Akın got into the car.

​He noticed the silent tears still slipping down his daughter's cheeks, but he chose not to speak. He wanted her to cry it out, to empty the heavy burden in her heart. Finally, they arrived at a beautiful restaurant overlooking the sea. Over breakfast, the fresh ocean breeze finally began to soothe Açelya's frayed nerves.

​Excuse herself, she headed to the restroom. After washing her hands, she turned to exit the stall when suddenly, a heavy hand slammed over her mouth, pinning her against the wall.

​Açelya's heart leaped into her throat. Staring back at her with a manic gleam in his eyes was Polat.

​"Jasmine," Polat whispered, leaning close to her neck, inhaling deeply. "God, your scent completely clears my mind."

​Slowly, he pulled his hand away from her mouth.

​"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Açelya hissed, her voice trembling with rage and fear. "Why are you smelling me?!"

​Polat let out a low, echoing laugh that sent chills down her spine. "Because I've gone completely crazy for you, Açelya."

​Terified by his unpredictable demeanor, Açelya pressed her back hard against the tiled wall.

​Suddenly, Polat’s expression shifted, and he flashed her a boyish grin. "Oh, relax, sweet girl. It was just a joke. I saw you and couldn't resist teasing you a bit."

​"It's not funny," she spat.

​"Hmm. If you say so," Polat smirked, stepping back.

​Shaken to her core, Açelya rushed back to the table. She forced herself to act completely normal in front of her father, refusing to ruin the rare, beautiful morning they were sharing.

​Meanwhile, across town, İrem Sert was pacing furiously inside Ateş's office, still stinging from Altan’s rejection.

​Ateş walked in, tossing his jacket onto the couch. "I swear, İrem, I see your face more than I see my own mother's these days."

​"Where the hell is Cem?" İrem snapped.

​"He's on his way," Ateş replied, pouring himself a drink. "Now tell me, how did the meeting go last night?"

​İrem’s jaw clenched. "Frustrating. Apparently, he's married. But I don't give a damn about that. I always get what I want."

​Ateş let out a mocking laugh. "Don't tell me you fell in love with a man you met once?"

​"Of course not," İrem sneered. "I'm going to wrap him around my finger, reel him in, and then seize control of the Demir shipping empire."

​The door opened, and Cem walked in. "Not while I'm around, you won't."

​"Ah, speak of the devil," İrem smiled wickedly. "Glad you could make it. We can just split the empire between us. But first, how do we eliminate Altan Demir?"

​Ateş's eyes darkened, a ruthless smile spreading across his face. "It's quite simple, really. We provide Cem with illegal weapons or tainted drugs. Cem will plant them, and use them to completely destroy his uncle's reputation and life from the inside."

​Cem nodded eagerly, a treacherous glint in his eyes. "Consider it done. Whatever you two command, I'm at your service."

​Later that afternoon, Açelya sneaked into her uncles' private study at the Demir estate. Sorting through stacks of classified files, she managed to find the documents detailing Ateş Kılıç’s operations. She swiped them and slipped back to her roomShe spent the rest of the day meticulously studying those documents, mapping out Ateş's weaknesses, his routines, and the layout of his private estate. By the time dinner came, she forced herself to slip into a mask of pure calm. She sat at the family table, laughing and chatting as if she hadn't a care in the world. Her sudden cheerful demeanor struck Uncle Erdem as slightly odd, but he shrugged it off, simply glad to see his niece pulling herself out of her dark mood.

​Once midnight struck and the mansion fell dead silent, Açelya slipped out of bed. She grabbed the sleek, silver pistol her father had gifted her for protection, tucked it securely into her waistband, and snuck out of the estate.

​Using the address she had memorized from the files, she took a cab to Ateş’s private residence. When she arrived, her heart sank. The place was crawling with armed guards. Sneaking her way to the back of the property, she looked up and spotted Ateş through a second-story window, pacing as he talked on the phone.

​Luck seemed to be on her side when she noticed the guard stationed at the rear of the house had nodded off to sleep. Holding her breath, she scaled the low perimeter fence. Pressing herself against the shadows, she carefully made her way up to Ateş's private balcony. Peeking through the sheer curtains, she saw that the lights were now off, and Ateş was asleep in his bed.

​This is the end of the line, Ateş Kılıç, she thought, her hands trembling as she quietly slid the balcony door open and stepped inside.

​Desperate and running on pure adrenaline, she grabbed a heavy pillow from the nearby armchair, threw herself onto his bed, and pressed it hard over his face to smother him.

​But Ateş was a trained predator.

​In a fraction of a second, his survival instincts kicked in. His eyes snapped open, and with a brutal, blind reflex, his fist flew forward, striking her hard across the mouth.

​A sharp cry escaped her lips as she was thrown back. Ateş lunged, pinning her down, but stopped dead in his tracks when he realized his attacker was a woman. Brushing her tangled hair away from her face, his jaw clenched as he stared down at her.

​"Açelya?" Ateş spat, his voice laced with disbelief and fury. "What kind of sick game are you playing, little girl? Did my last warning mean absolutely nothing to you?" He grabbed her by the wrist, squeezing her delicate bones in an iron grip.

​"Stop! You're hurting me!" she cried out, twisting in vain to free her arm.

​"Anyone who tries to take my life belongs in hell," Ateş growled, his eyes burning with a terrifying light. "So this was your brilliant plan, huh? Come here." Without a shred of mercy, he dragged her off the bed and began pulling her out of the room.

​"You're a coward, Ateş! What you did to Cem—what you're doing now—it's dirty! You're nothing but a brute!" she screamed, thrashing against him.

​Her words seemed to push him over the edge. Deciding she needed to be broken once and for all, Ateş dragged her down the winding stairs and threw her into the damp, pitch-black basement.

​"Don't, Ateş! Please, don't do this! I won't do it again, I swear!" she sobbed, backing away into the darkness as he stepped inside.

​Ateş closed the distance between them. Reaching out, he fisted his hand in her hair, pulling her head back to force her to look at him. Up close, her striking green eyes, her porcelain skin, and her soft, flushed pink lips sent an unexpected, electric jolt through his veins. Her frantic, shallow breathing caused her chest to rise and fall flush against his own.

​"You'll stay down here until morning," Ateş whispered, his voice dangerously low as his gaze lingered on her lips. "Let's see if a night in the dark finally teaches you some sense."

​With a sudden movement, he shoved her away. Açelya stumbled, her back slamming hard against the concrete wall.

​A sharp, agonizing scream of pain escaped her lips as her spine took the impact. The sheer physical and emotional exhaustion of the last forty-eight hours finally crashed over her. She collapsed to her knees on the cold floor, sobbing hysterically.

​"Why... why does everyone I love always get hurt?!" she shrieked, her voice echoing painfully off the bare walls. "First my brother Cihan... why is he under the dirt?! Why couldn't I save him? He died right in front of my eyes!"

​Lost in the grip of a massive panic attack, Açelya began frantically striking her own head against the concrete wall. "What do you monsters want from us?! Just leave us alone!"

​Ateş’s chest tightened. Seeing her self-destruct in front of him, he rushed forward and grabbed her arms to stop her. But the moment his hands locked around her shoulders, Açelya's eyes rolled back, and her body went completely limp. She had fainted from pure hysteria.

​Panicking, Ateş scooped her fragile body into his arms and carried her back up to his bedroom. He laid her gently on the bed, staring down at her pale, tear-streaked face.

​He knew the Demir family inside and out, but looking at her now, a strange, heavy wave of pity washed over him. He realized that his mock execution of Cem at the warehouse had triggered her deep-seated trauma over her other brother, Cihan's, death. She had come here to kill him not out of malice, but out of a desperate, broken instinct to protect the only brother she had left.

​Ateş sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze softening as he looked at her bruised wrist—red and swollen from where he had gripped it—and her split lip, bleeding slightly from his defensive punch.

​He had seen how her own family treated her, how they isolated and abused her.

A girl who loves her family this fiercely shouldn't be treated like garbage by them, he thought silently.

​For the first time, the ruthless Ateş Kılıç decided he wouldn't retaliate. He quietly pulled a chair up to the bedside, sat down, and decided to watch over her until she woke up.