orhan-e-roohi

orhan e roohi episode 2.

The 42nd floor of Bey Industries. Glass walls. No paintings. No useless decoration. Only black, white, and steel.

I stepped out of the elevator. White blazer. Black pencil skirt. Red lips. Red nails. Red heels. Roohi Altin never comes unarmed.

The secretary looked up. Then looked down. "Orhan Bey is waiting for you, Miss Altin."

Waiting. Not "Welcome, Miss Altin." Not tea. Not water. Just waiting.

The door opened.

Orhan Bey stood behind his desk. Facing the window. Back to me. Black suit. The same suit coffee spilled on yesterday. But today, not a single stain.

The room was silent. Only Istanbul traffic sounded below.

I walked in. The door closed behind me. Click.

He turned. His eyes lifted. Looked at me. 2 seconds. No smile. No anger. Just... looking.

"You're on time," he said. Voice deep. "9:00 AM."

I smiled. "Roohi Altin is never late. I only enjoy making others late."

He sat on his chair. Gestured to the one in front of me. "Sit."

I didn't sit. I stood in front of his desk. Heels planted on the floor.

"Where is the contract?" I asked. Direct. Sharp.

Orhan opened the drawer. Pulled out a file. Black file. No name on it. He opened it. My merger contract was inside. The same contract he refused to sign yesterday.

He picked up a pen. Black pen. Simple.

My heart sped up. Would he sign today? Would the 3 billion dollar game end?

He held the pen 1 inch above the paper. Held it there.

Then put the pen down. Didn't sign.

"Yesterday you threw coffee," he said. Eyes locked on mine. "What did you bring today, Roohi Altin?"

My hands clenched into fists. "I came here for the contract. Not for drama."

"That's the problem," he stood. Walked around the desk until he stood in front of me. Too close. Close enough that I could smell his cologne. Clean. Like rain.

"You think everything is drama. Coffee was drama. Anger was drama. 3 billion dollars was drama."

He took one more step. I didn't step back.

"Do you know the difference between us?" he asked. Voice lowered. "You want to buy the world. I want to understand it."

"Then understand it," I said. But my voice shook a little. "Sign the contract. Then understand as much as you want."

He shook his head. "No. First, you understand."

He raised his hand. Touched my chin with one finger. Just 1 second. Light. But electricity ran through my whole body.

"Yesterday when the coffee spilled," he said, "everyone screamed. Only I smiled. Do you know why?"

I stayed silent.

"Because for the first time someone showed me that Roohi Altin has fire inside her. Otherwise everyone says you're just ice. Cold. An expensive stone."

He pulled his hand back. Sat back in his chair.

"I won't sign for 3 billion dollars," he said. "I'll sign for the woman who can throw coffee without fear."

My blood boiled. "So this is your game?"

"This isn't a game," he picked up the pen. Twirled it. "This is a test. And you haven't passed yet."

He closed the file. Contract inside. Locked it.

"Go, Roohi Altin," he said. "Bring me something hotter than coffee. Bring me something that can burn me. Then we'll talk."

I stood there. Breathing fast. Face hot.

Was this man crazy? Or was I going crazy?

I turned. Walked toward the door. Heels loud. Angry.

At the door, I stopped. Hand on the handle. Turned back to look at him.

He was still watching me. Didn't smile. Just watched.

"Next time," I said, words cutting, "I won't bring coffee, Orhan Bey. I'll bring fire."

I opened the door. Walked out.

In the corridor, I finally breathed. Heart pounding hard.

He didn't sign. But he touched my chin.

Orhan Bey rejected the contract. But looking into my eyes, he said: "You are fire."

And for the first time, Roohi Altin couldn't understand... whether she had won,or lost

The morning sun hit the floor-to-ceiling windows of Orhan's penthouse. He stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the cuff of his light grey suit. White shirt. No tie. One hand in pocket. Perfect. Always perfect.

His father's voice came from behind him. "Orhan! You're always ready for the office so early in the morning."

Orhan didn't turn. He fixed his watch. Plain black. No diamonds. No gold. "Yes, father. I have a business meeting at 9 AM. I can't be late for that."

His father walked closer, smiling with pride. "Last night I was telling your mother... our son is so handsome. The girls in Turkey would go crazy for him. But you... you never even look at them."

Orhan finally turned. One corner of his mouth lifted. Not a full smile. "Just once is enough, father."

"Just once?" His father laughed. "Come on, let's go. I'm sitting in the car. I have a meeting too. Don't be late. Come with me."

Orhan picked up his grey blazer. "Yes, father. I'm coming."

Bey Industries. 42nd floor. Maria, Orhan's personal secretary, stood near the elevator holding a black folder and her handbag. Black blazer. Grey trousers. Professional. She checked her watch. 8:55 AM.

"Ma'am, you're at the office at this time? Why are you so ready?" a junior staff member asked.

Maria adjusted her hair. "Because my boss is Orhan Bey. As his personal secretary, I have to be ready. It's not optional."

"Ma'am, Orhan Bey only comes after 9 AM. And he doesn't even glance at anyone before his first coffee."

Maria didn't reply. She took out a small mirror from her bag. Fixed her hair. Straightened her white blouse with the bow tie. "If Orhan Bey is coming, I have to look perfect. I keep my mirror ready. The moment I hear he's arriving, I make sure everything is set."

The elevator dinged. "Orhan Bey has arrived," Maria whispered. She put the mirror back in her bag in one second flat.

Orhan walked in. Black shirt today. Sleeves rolled up to his forearms. Grey checkered trousers. Black loafers. Blazer draped over one shoulder. One hand in pocket. Earbuds in one ear.

He didn't look at anyone. Not the staff standing up. Not the bows. Not the "Good morning, Sir" chorus. His eyes were fixed straight ahead. Cold. Focused. Like the whole office was invisible.

Maria stepped forward immediately. "Sir, you have arrived."

Orhan stopped for half a second. Looked at her. No expression. Then kept walking toward his cabin. Maria followed, her heels clicking fast behind him. "Sir, your 9 AM meeting... the documents... coffee?"

Orhan didn't answer. He didn't even turn his head. He walked past her like she was air. Maria froze mid-sentence. Her face fell for 1 second. Then she composed herself again. Professional. Always professional.

From her car across the street, Roohi watched through tinted windows. She saw him enter Bey Industries. Black shirt. Grey trousers. Blazer on shoulder. No glance for anyone.

She gripped her steering wheel. Red nails digging into leather. "He doesn't even look at his secretary," she whispered to herself. "Maria is beautiful. Smart. Dressed perfectly. But he didn't see her."

Roohi's phone buzzed. A message from her father: "Meeting with Orhan Bey today. Don't be late."

She smiled. Cold smile. "I won't be late, father. But he will be late to understand me."

She opened her compact mirror. Fixed her red lipstick. Adjusted her white blouse. Black pencil skirt. Red heels. "Yesterday coffee," she whispered. "Today... fire."

She stepped out of the car. Every step toward Bey Industries was a step toward war.

Orhan sat behind his desk. Black desk. Clean. Only a laptop and one black pen. He removed his earbuds. Put them on the desk. Looked at the black file in front of him. The merger contract from Altin Group. Unsigned. He touched the file. Then pulled his hand back.

His phone lit up. Message from his father: "Son, that Altin girl... Roohi... she's dangerous. Be careful."

Orhan didn't reply. He leaned back in his chair. Closed his eyes for 2 seconds. In his mind: Yesterday, coffee. Her eyes. Fire. "Roohi Altin," he whispered. No one could hear. "You said you would bring fire next time."

The door opened without a knock. Maria entered, holding coffee. "Sir, your coffee. Black. No sugar. No games."

Orhan opened his eyes. Looked at the coffee. Then at Maria. "Put it there," he said. Voice flat. Maria placed it on his desk. Her hand trembled slightly. Not from fear. From hope. Maybe today he would look at her. Really look.

Orhan picked up the cup. Took one sip. Didn't taste it. His eyes were already on the window. On the street below. On the white car that just parked. Roohi's car. His jaw tightened. "She came," he said, too low for Maria to hear.

Maria asked, "Sir, anything else?" Orhan didn't answer. He stood up. Walked to the window. Hands in pockets. Back to Maria. Back to the world. Maria stood there, holding the empty tray. Invisible again.

Roohi walked through the lobby. Red heels. Click. Click. Click. Every head turned. Except one. The receptionist stood up. "Miss Altin, Orhan Bey is on the 42nd floor. But he has a meeting at 9 AM. You don't have an appointment.

Roohi didn't stop walking. "Roohi Altin doesn't need an appointment.

She stepped into the elevator. Alone. Pressed 42. In the mirror of the elevator, she looked at herself. White blouse. Black skirt. Red lips. Red nails. "Orhan Bey," she whispered to her reflection. You wanted fire. Here I am.

The elevator reached 42. Doors opened. The entire floor went silent. Roohi walked out. Straight toward Orhan's cabin. Glass walls. She could see him standing at the window. Back to her.

She stopped at his door. Hand on the handle. Inside, Orhan still didn't turn. But his shoulders stiffened. He knew. He knew she was there. The air between them changed. Heavy. Electric. Dangerous.

Roohi pushed the door open. Orhan didn't move. Didn't turn. But he spoke. Low. Only for her. "You're early."

Roohi smiled. "Roohi Altin is never early. She arrives exactly when she wants to destroy you.

The door closed behind her. Click.

To be continued in Part 3