The Mafia's Precious Nurse

RED HAIR

Zeynep

Everything happening around me was a blur. I felt like I was burning inside. I was mourning, but no one was even coming to offer condolences. My mother-in-law yelled at every tear that fell from my eyes, but I couldn't understand what she was saying.

I was bleeding, and my head was spinning. I wanted to cry constantly. My arms felt empty. Even when I walked, I was in pain, but I was sitting and picking apricots.

"What a heartless woman. This girl's baby died just last night."

My hands were trembling. I looked at the women passing by. I focused on my crate and continued picking apricots. My hands hurt from the teeth marks and bruises on them.

I had been married for six years. After two miscarriages, I had waited to reunite with my baby, but my arms were empty again. They didn't even show me the baby's body. Even that was too much for them.

It was eight in the morning. When the breakfast break was given, the foreman called my mother-in-law over, and they left.

"Take just one piece of bread. Don't touch the rest. I brought it for myself. I have diabetes. I'm still working, and I can't go hungry."

I didn't say anything. I wasn't in the mood to eat, anyway.

"Answer me, girl. You've completely lost your mind."

"Okay, Mother."

"Mother, huh. Instead of taking you, I should have bought a cow; it would have had a calf by now, and I would have profited. My son was destined for barren deserts. You couldn't even give a boy in six years. You couldn't even bear a girl. What kind of mother are you?"

My knees were on the ground, looking at the soil. How bad a person I was. The earth's surface wouldn't accept me. At least if the soil accepted me, this ordeal would end. Maybe then I would see my mother and cry on her shoulder. I didn't even have a place to cry. Smiling wasn't meant for me.

When she left muttering, I just sat there. People were afraid of my mother-in-law. She would beat me, asking, "Did they give you advice?" and wouldn't leave them alone either. That's why no one came. Even Aunt Ayşe wasn't here today. Her daughter was coming. She had mentioned it before the birth yesterday. That's why she hadn't come.

When I put my hand on my stomach, there was an emptiness I felt in my heart. I waited like that until the break was over. It felt like the sun was burning only me. My head was spinning. Since last night, the milk leaking from my breasts was really bothering me. My clothes were ruined.

A woman I didn't know came up to me. The chest part of the dress I was wearing was wet again with the flowing milk. She was looking there.

"Girl, go feed your baby. Look, your milk is overflowing. That means your baby is hungry."

When I touched it, I realized it was wet again.

I wiped the tear falling from my eye.

"I don't have a baby," I said.

She was looking at my face.

"Where is your baby?"

"The earth claimed my baby," I said.

"Oh, may God have mercy on their soul. Don't be sad. You're still young. You can have another one."

The anger I had been holding inside was about to explode. She was trying to console me in her own way. If her own child died, would she replace it with another? Was this an object? I gave the woman a disdainful look. I had stopped responding long ago. People didn't understand words. I had stopped talking a very long time ago.

Feyyaz, my mother-in-law, the sergeant, and the steward we saw yesterday were approaching me. What was Feyyaz doing here? He never worked. He couldn't have come to take me. I stood up. I had learned what they had done to me and wasn't afraid of him anymore. The worst he could do was kill me. After all, there was nothing else he hadn't done.

"My dear daughter, come on, we're leaving."

I was taken aback when my mother-in-law called out. I had witnessed all her cruelty, but she had never called me "dear" or "daughter" before.

"Where to?"

"To the mansion. Oh my, look at how the milk is flowing." She grabbed my arm and began to drag me.

"Aren't you going to ask her?"

"What do you mean! Once her husband agrees, does she have any say? Don't worry, sir. She'll do what's expected of her," she said.

I still didn't understand what I was supposed to do. The steward gave me a pitying look.

"Alright, let's go," he said. I was afraid to ask what was going on.

We got into the car. After a ten-minute drive, we reached the Çakıroğlu mansion. Everyone in Malatya knew this mansion. I had passed by it before but had never been inside.

My mother-in-law and Feyyaz were very happy. They didn't leave my side. I was wearing baggy trousers, a headscarf, and an old shirt. I felt completely out of place here in my slippers. Even the trash can in the garden seemed more fitting here. The thought that crossed my mind made me want to laugh. Maybe I wanted to rebel. What were we doing here?

The steward led us into a lounge.

"Wait here, I'll be right back."

"Of course, sir, we'll wait."

Feyyaz was almost drooling. I felt nauseous. When the man left, he looked at my mother-in-law.

"A stroke of luck has befallen us. Yusuf Ali Çakıroğlu will make us prosperous. From now on, we won't be defeated."

"Of course, unless this fool messes things up," he said, looking at me. What did it have to do with me?

He grabbed my hair and pulled my head back.

"Listen, take good care of that child. If you get fired, if you mess this up too, don't bother me—just throw yourself into the Fırat. Otherwise, I won't leave a single bone of yours unbroken."

"I... what am I supposed to do?"

"You're going to be the wet nurse for the Agha's daughter."

I widened my eyes in shock. He released my head and flung me, causing me to fall to the ground. I painfully got up and sat on another couch. While they talked to each other, I groaned in pain.

At fifteen, my brother had forced me to marry this man. For six years, I had endured torture, threats, and beatings at his doorstep. I had lost two children due to the kicks and beatings I received on my stomach. I was left hungry and homeless, but this was the worst. They had sold the sustenance of my deceased child. Every day I thought I couldn't hate them more, they found a new way to surprise me.

When the steward and a woman entered, they both stood up. When Feyyaz looked at me angrily, I stood up too. I couldn't even rebel. I just wiped away the tear that fell from my eye.

A long, black-haired, fair-skinned girl of world-class beauty examined me.

"Is it her?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Ma'am, my wife just gave birth..."

She raised her hand to signal silence. No one spoke.

"Your business is with Kahya Efendi. Take the girl upstairs. Give them a hundred thousand. Apart from the monthly salary, they should never wander around here."

"Are we leaving? Is my wife going to stay here alone?" Feyyaz shouted at the woman angrily. My mother-in-law was holding him back.

"If you don't agree, take your wife and leave. I'm looking for someone to nurse the baby for two years without causing trouble. I can find anyone for this money."

"No, no, I didn't mean it that way. Okay, let her stay," he said.

I was very impressed by the woman's voice, stance, and firmness. Feyyaz was like a dog before her.

"Take the girl," she said.

The servant came and took me by the arm. I looked at Feyyaz and my mother-in-law. They weren't even looking at me. They were going to leave me in this unfamiliar place. The woman was also following us.

"Fatma, take this girl to the bathroom and wash her thoroughly. Give her clean clothes. My niece might catch an infection from this filth."

I hadn't even had the chance to wash the dirt off my hands. My face turned red with shame. I was looking at my hands.

"Of course, ma'am."

The next hour passed very quickly. I had bathed in a bathroom as big as our house and wore a soft, cotton-like dress. They dried my hair and took me to a room. The place they called the nursery was huge. There were toys I had never seen before. I looked at the crying baby in her arms. My heart ached as it cried.

"Finally, you're here. Beril didn't nurse at all. Take the baby quickly. My dear is bursting."

When they handed me the baby, I was shocked, but its warmth warmed my arms. The crying baby seemed to be looking at me.

"Hurry up," the woman said.

In a hurry, I took out my breast. When I held it to the child's mouth, it tried to latch on. After a few attempts, it took the n****e into its mouth and sucked. I flinched at the contact. The servant sat me down. I was looking at the baby as if hypnotized. The baby, content with being fed, had stopped crying.

"It latched on immediately."

"It seems it likes its wet nurse, ma'am. It likes her scent."

"It seems so," said the black-haired woman.

The servant left, and the woman was looking at me.

I was feeding another baby with the sustenance meant for my own. I'm sorry, Mom, I said to myself. The guilt was overwhelming. Loving the warmth of the baby nursing in my arms was even more intense.

"Why are you crying? Are you in pain too?"

I shook my head to indicate no.

"Is it because your baby died?"

This time I looked at the woman.

"God rest their soul. I'm very sorry."

"Thank you," I said simply.

"It won't replace your own, but you can kiss Ece whenever you want. You are now her wet nurse."

A blush spread across my face again. The tears falling from my eyes were actually from happiness.

"Thank you."

I had lost a child, but perhaps I had gained one. The happiness inside me at that moment was indescribable. The guilt I felt towards my own daughter might never go away, but I deserved to be a little happy too.

"Did they tell you the conditions?"

I shook my head to indicate no.

"I can always tell. Your mother-in-law and husband are despotic people, aren't they?"

I was just looking at her.

"Sorry, don't mind me. I tend to speak my mind. My name is Sibel, I'm Ece's aunt."

"Nice to meet you."

"Your name is Zeynep, right?"

"Yes."

"Zeynep, you'll stay in this room. Fatma will be there to assist you. If you need anything, just ring the bell behind the door. Fatma will stay with you at night, so you can nurse the baby without her waking up. All I ask is that you take care of the baby."

"Of course, ma'am."

"Very good. I have a feeling we'll get along well. It's retrograde time anyway. My fortune said the person I meet will stay in my life forever. Maybe that person is you."

I didn't understand anything she said. I just looked at her. The baby in my arms, who had fallen asleep, let go of the breast.

"Gently lay her down and rest. We'll have plenty of time. I'll also tell them to bring you food. You need to take care of yourself. From now on, Ece's health is also in your hands."

The ache in my chest was a sign of this. Maybe she was right. From now on, this baby was my responsibility. Missing her warmth as soon as I placed her in the cradle felt like a bad omen.

3 MONTHS LATER

Three months had passed beautifully. I could say they were the best three months of my life. The days and nights were each uniquely beautiful. Yes, I was sleepless. Yes, I was tired. But I had never had such wonderful days in my life.

With her dark eyebrows, dark eyes, and fair skin, she looked just like her aunt. I had begun to think of her as my daughter. Well, of course, only in my heart. I was afraid to call her my daughter in front of people. But deep inside, I had become very attached to her. She had become the purpose of my life. I played with her, smiled at her, and shared all my troubles with her. Whenever she smiled at me, I forgot all my troubles. It felt as if the world had shown me mercy too.

She had a way of making me forget my troubles, cheering me up, and making me happy. Every time I held her, I felt as if I was newly born. Until now, I had also become friends with Sibel. She no longer allowed me to call her "ma'am." Since we took care of the baby together, we spent a lot of time laughing and having fun. She was a very fun person. In fact, she was someone I took as an example for myself. Full of life, vibrant, and someone who didn't worry about anything, she said whatever came to her mind. And for some reason, she liked me a lot. No one had ever liked me until now. I would never understand why she liked me. But she did.

Moreover, we were the same age. It felt strange to me that we were both twenty-one. While she was a young woman in the prime of her life, I felt like an old soul ready to be buried. At least that's how I felt.

"Oh, your face is blooming again."

"I was just thinking."

"I wish you would talk to me a little. Why don't you ever tell me about yourself, for example? I only know your age, your name, and such."

"I have nothing to tell."

"Everyone has something."

I wondered if she would listen if I talked about hatred, anger, beatings, and poverty. About the doctor saying it was a miracle I survived the day I first arrived here. How surprised I was to see a plate of food meant for me and to eat meat for the first time in years. Maybe about my mother-in-law hiding bread in the cupboard and sprinkling flour around it to see if there were footprints in the flour. When I first got married, I stole bread at night because I was hungry while pregnant and was beaten all night, which caused my first miscarriage over a piece of bread.

I looked at her with these thoughts in my mind. Would she listen if I told her these things? My life wasn't like her fancy stories. No one would want to listen.

"I don't have any," I simply said.

The door opened. Fatma Abla had arrived. I later learned she was the Kahya's wife. She handled all the work inside.

"Your husband is here. He wants to see you."

My face fell. I didn't know what to say.

"What do you see in that man? Ugh, he's so ugly. Hair everywhere—his face, hair, and neck are all matted together."

"The baby will wake up now. Can't he come later?" I hadn't seen him in three months. It was as if they didn't exist. I didn't want to see him again.

"He's making a fuss. You should go see him."

"Okay, I'm coming," I said. I would have to go to him eventually. I went downstairs with Fatma Abla. His voice echoed up to the upper floor.

"I want my wife," he kept saying. When I entered the room, he looked at me. I was wearing a beautiful dress with buttons in the front, short sleeves, and the skirt below my knees.

"Zeynep, is that you? You look so beautiful."

Seeing him made me feel nauseous again.

"I'm taking my wife and leaving."

I looked at Kahya in fear.

"We made an agreement. She will stay here for two years."

"I don't want it anymore. She's coming with me now. You can't keep her here by force."

He grabbed my arm and dragged me into the corridor.

"Feyyaz, let me go."

"Shut up."

He pushed me as he held my arm. I had fallen to the ground.

"You can't take her like this," said Fatma Hanım.

"I'll take my wife wherever I want."

New wounds replaced the ones that had healed on my body. I looked at the redness on my wrist and the blood on my knee. Seeing him turned my life upside down again. And he was fighting too.

"What's going on here? Hikmet, what's this argument?"

I lifted my head and looked at where the voice was coming from.

A man in a black suit, with short hair, dark skin, and dark eyebrows and eyes, was looking at us. He was the most handsome man I had ever seen. Moreover, he looked like the male version of Sibel.

He walked with the confidence of someone balancing on a tightrope. There was no rush in his demeanor. His face was expressionless. I had been in this house for three months, and this was the first time I was seeing this man. He looked like a film star. He was very handsome.

His voice suited him as well. It was deep and strong. He had a fearless voice. It was interesting for him to have such a voice. The man was very different in every way. He was looking around. Suddenly, our eyes met. Something very different happened with his gaze. I shivered inside.

"Sir, I'm handling it right away," said the Kahya.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Sir, this man won't let me take my wife."

Was this Yusuf Ali Ağa? He was very young. How old was this man? I was expecting someone middle-aged or older.

"Who is your wife, sir?"

I stopped myself from standing up. I didn't want to draw attention.

"I haven't seen my wife's face for three months. Please understand me."

I turned red with embarrassment as Feyyaz kept talking.

"Sir, the new wet nurse is Zeynep. This man is her husband. We made a two-year agreement, but today he came asking for more money or his wife."

The man looked at both of us.

"Give him the money and send him off. If he shows up at my door again, send his head to his mother."

Feyyaz was frozen. I didn't say a word.

"My wife," he said simply.

"Once the baby grows a little more, send the woman home from time to time. Do I have to deal with this too?"

"Of course, sir. I'll take care of it now."

The man left without looking at us. I was watching him. What kind of man was he?

"Go upstairs. The baby won't stop crying," said Kahya.

I nodded and went up immediately. I didn't even look at Feyyaz. He was still talking behind me. I ran away. When I entered the room, Beril Hanım had arrived.

"Why is this baby crying? Where have you been?"

She would only come to the room to scold me.

"I'm here, ma'am."

She pinched my arm hard.

"Don't leave the room again."

"Of course, ma'am."

She wouldn't come when Sibel was in the room. I took Ece in my arms. She immediately stopped crying. Beril Hanım left angrily.

She was a green-eyed, blonde, well-groomed, tall woman. It was as if she was my mother-in-law's daughter. She resembled her a lot. She constantly spewed hatred. And she didn't take care of the baby. What kind of mother was she? I still didn't understand. Without giving it much thought, I nursed the baby.

I was sweating a bit from everything that had happened. It would be good to take a shower later. There was a bathroom in the room. Fatma Abla would come and stay with the baby. I sat on the couch. What had just happened?

.

.

.

Yusuf Ali

We also had to deal with the wet nurse's husband's issues, as if we had nothing else to do. This is the type of woman Sibel would bring.

I sat in my place in the library, looking at the files with a pen in my hand. As always, my anger was at its peak. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. The woman was very beautiful. With her red hair and blue eyes, she had an unparalleled beauty. How could this man have sent his wife here with such a mind? If I had such a beautiful wife, I wouldn't let her step outside.

The fact that I started getting an erection the moment I first saw her made me even angrier. Maybe the girl's beauty had affected me. It would be good to have someone in my bed tonight. I was beginning to take an interest in the wet nurse. Still, I couldn't blame myself. The girl was really beautiful. Especially those full lips. Her upper lip would swell as I imagined sliding into her mouth.

I cleared my throat. It wasn't my habit to call women to the house, but I should ask Kahya to let someone in through the back door. Kenan, the son of the Baron, was coming tomorrow. It wasn't suitable to spend the night somewhere.

The hours were slipping away. I made it clear to Kahya that I didn't want such an incident again. I also instructed him to send a woman for the evening. I went to my room and undressed, sitting there in just my sweatpants, holding a glass of whiskey.

The sight of the red hair I saw in the morning had left me aroused. I couldn't stop imagining her hair wrapped around my hand, cascading down her back and sprawled across my bed. I should have told Kahya to send a redhead, as I was craving one.

When there was a knock at the door, I put the glass down on the table. Kahya knew his job. As agreed, he had left the girl at the door, and she knocked twice to announce her presence. My spirits lifted. After having her all night, I would feel relieved. I didn't want to continue wandering the house in this state, lusting after a maid. If it had been a maid, I wouldn't have minded, actually. As long as she wanted to come to my bed, I could have anyone.

I went to open the door and immediately grabbed the girl by the arm. In front of me were startled blue eyes, red hair, and full lips. She screamed when I grabbed her. Reflexively, I pinned her between the wall and myself. She had soft curves. I was practically leaning against her. My arousal was evident.

"My lord..."

"So you're the one who's going to make my night."

Her intentions were clear, given the late hour of her visit. I pressed her small, soft body closer and grabbed her shiny hair, capturing her lips with mine. I made my desire clear by leaning against her. I had desired her since I saw her in the morning. I was glad I had wished for her. Her scent was like a warm breeze. There was a honey-sweet aroma on her lips.

The thought of wanting, desiring, and having her in my bed that night was wonderful. Maybe Kahya had understood and arranged it. I'll have to give him a raise, damn it. As I kissed the girl passionately, holding her hair with pleasure, her hands pressed against my shoulders.

I pressed against her once more.

"Did you like it, beautiful?"

"Let me go," she shouted. Desire clouded my vision. I thought I had heard wrong. When I looked at her face, it was wide with fear. I tried to force myself to take a step back but couldn't. She was pushing me.

"You bed..."

I was the one shocked by the slap I received on my cheek. The woman in front of me was even more surprised, but she had caught me off guard.

This petite woman had slapped me. I seized her shoulders and tossed her onto the bed. She screamed.

"Do you like it rough, fiery lady? Fine, I'm up for that too."

The girl beneath me, her eyes filled with anger, looked up at me.

"No, you misunderstood. Please stop."

I gazed at the girl whose hands I held pinned above her head. Her lips were slightly swollen from my kiss, and my stubble had left a redness on her chin. She was very beautiful.

"What did I misunderstand? What are you doing in my room?"

"I came to talk," she said, breathless.

I frowned.

"At this hour, you came to a man's room to talk? Are you crazy, or just pretending to be?"

"I'm sorry, please let me go."

As I glared at her and she struggled to free her hands, my arousal pressed even more insistently between us.

"What are you doing in my room?"

"I told you, I came to talk," she said. Seeing the tearful expression on her face, I let go of her hand. I was actually about to get up. I had never been with someone who didn't want me, and this wasn't going to be the first. There was a knock at the door, and Kahya entered.

"Sir, the girl might be a bit late... oh, sorry... um... I'll leave."

While looking at Kahya over the girl, he glanced between us. I was leaning completely over the girl I had pinned down. I had climbed on top of the girl, pinning her hands above her head. I got up immediately.

"Hikmet, wait."

I didn't know what to say. This was a first. Hikmet looked down. When I looked too, I saw a large bulge in my sweatpants, damn it. The girl got up from the bed, passed by Hikmet while crying, and left the room. I stood in the middle of the room, still aroused, while Kahya looked at me and my obvious state.

This was not the night I had hoped for. The unfortunate part was, the girl's taste was very pleasant. Her eyes appeared timid and innocent. Yet she might have come to my room to provoke me further. Anything was possible. Nothing was definite. The only sure thing was that I would have that girl in my bed. If not tonight, then tomorrow night, or perhaps even sooner...