PRIVATE PROPERTY: A Dark Romantic Novel

CHAPTER 3

"White not always symbolize purity;

sometimes, it is the color of a shroud."

The mirror didn't reflect a bride, but a victim who had just survived a battlefield. Inside her lavish room in the Barzanji palace, Raha stood stripped to her underwear, while her sister applied thick layers of foundation to her back and shoulders. Every touch ignited a searing pain. Blue and purple bruises mapped her pale skin—a map of agony. These were the grim souvenirs of the "welcome" she received from her father and Jalal the moment she crossed the border. Beatings, cellar confinement, and forced fasting—all to discipline the "stray cat" before her wedding night.

"You are so beautiful, Raha..." her younger sister, Noor, whispered as she placed the veil over her head, her eyes glistening with suppressed tears.

Raha laughed. A broken, soulless laugh that sounded like shattering glass. "Beautiful?" she asked, her voice rasping. "I look like a sacrifice decorated for s*******r, Noor."

She approached the mirror and touched her cold neck. She remembered those few hours of freedom in Istanbul. She remembered Demir. That handsome devil who had insulted and imprisoned her. If only she had stayed in his cell! Demir’s cell was a paradise compared to the bedroom of Jalal that awaited her tonight.

The door burst open without a knock. Jalal appeared in the frame, clad in a luxury black wedding suit with a red rose in his pocket. The overpowering scent of his cologne flooded the room, stealing the air from Raha’s chest. He dismissed Noor crudely: "Out. I want to speak to my wife." The sister left trembling, leaving Raha alone with her executioner.

Jalal approached slowly, his eyes raking over her body with a greedy, revolting gaze. He stood behind her, placing his hands on her bare shoulders, deliberately pressing down on the hidden bruises to cause her pain.

"Didn't I tell you?" he whispered in her ear, staring at their reflection in the mirror. "There is no escape from me. You are mine, Raha. You’ve been mine since that night three years ago, and you’ll stay mine until I decide to discard you."

"Are you not done yet?" her father, Aslan, shouted sharply as he stormed into the room without permission.

He looked at Jalal, who stood there smoking his cigarette: "An important guest has arrived. Come down with me to receive him immediately." Jalal extinguished his cigarette against her skin, giving her one last look full of menace as he whispered, "You won’t forget tonight as long as you live..."

The men left, leaving Raha to drown in her despair. She looked at herself in the mirror; her eyes were dead, her lips pale. I wish I had died in that truck... I wish Demir had killed me in that warehouse.

THE GRAND RECEPTION HALL – DOWNSTAIRS

The palace’s main gates swung wide. Black SUVs entered with slow, imposing prestige, centering an armored Maybach. Demir stepped out. His presence was so dominant that it made the Barzanji guards tighten their grip on their weapons in nervous tension. He wore a black Italian suit, the first button of his shirt open, a silver chain glinting against his bronzed chest. His face was a mask of cold indifference; his black eyes scanned the premises with the chill of a professional killer.

Aslan and Jalal approached with forced smiles. "Mr. Demir! Welcome to Tehran," Aslan greeted, extending his hand. Demir shook it with a brief, cold firmness, then shifted his gaze to Jalal. He appraised him in a single glance: Weak. A poser. "I came to finalize the arms deal, Aslan. My time is tight," Demir’s resonant voice brooked no argument.

Jalal intervened, trying to display hospitality: "The deal is ready for signing in the office, but... tonight is my wedding. It would be an honor to have the house of (Kurtoglu) grace our ceremony. It is a small family gathering, but your presence would add great prestige."

Demir paused. He hated weddings and despised social niceties. But something in Jalal’s provocative tone made him want to stay—perhaps just to see who the unfortunate soul was marrying this clown. Demir gave a mocking side-smirk: "And why not? Let’s see how you celebrate in Iran."

ONE HOUR LATER – THE BALLROOM

Classical music began to soar. Demir sat at the main VIP table, toying with his glass out of boredom, his sharp eyes monitoring the guests. Suddenly, the lights dimmed, and a spotlight hit the top of the marble staircase. The bride appeared. Raha descended slowly, clutching her sister’s arm. Her head was bowed, her steps heavy as if being led to the guillotine.

Below, Demir raised his glass to drink, but his hand froze in mid-air. His eyes narrowed. That black hair... that slender frame... those sorrowful Persian features.

Raha reached the platform. As her eyes wandered lost among the guests, she stopped. She saw him. Amidst hundreds of faces, she saw him. The handsome devil in the black suit. He was standing there, glass in hand, his eyes locked onto her like a sniper who had found his target.

She gasped softly. Demir? Had he come to kill her? To take revenge? Or was he just another nightmare? His gaze promised no mercy. He looked at Jalal’s hand around her waist as if he wanted to fire a bullet through it.

The cleric sat and began the ceremony. "Jalal Barzanji, do you take Raha Barzanji as your wife?"

"I do," Jalal said with sickening triumph.

"Raha Barzanji, do you take—"

Demir decided at that moment that boredom was over. It was time to play. He slammed his glass on the table with an audible thud and stood up. His towering height and dark aura drew every eye instantly. He laughed. A loud, cold, mocking laugh that sliced through the silence and made the cleric stop speaking.

Silence fell over the hall.

"Mr. Demir?" Aslan asked anxiously. Demir stepped out from behind his table and advanced slowly toward the platform, hands in his pockets with insufferable arrogance. He looked at Jalal with contempt, then fixed his burning gaze on Raha, who lifted her head in shock. Her eyes widened with terror.

"Excuse me..." Demir said in a booming voice for all to hear. "But I couldn't stifle my laughter. Is this the bride?" He looked at Jalal and pointed at Raha with vulgar insolence: "Is this the pure cargo you are celebrating?"

Jalal snapped, "Know your place! What do you mean?"

Demir smiled diabolically and dropped the bomb he knew would destroy everything: "My man... how can you marry a woman who, just two days ago, was warming my bed in Istanbul?"

Deathly silence. The guests gasped. Demir continued coldly, looking at Raha, whose blood had frozen: "She sold herself to me in exchange for smuggling her out. And I must admit... It was a delightful deal."

He then approached the frozen Raha and wiped his thumb across her lower lip—the same gesture from the warehouse—whispering audibly: "Isn't that right, little one? Tell them how cold the nights were in my room."

He was lying. He was lying shamelessly to destroy the wedding. He knew these conservative families valued "honor" more than blood. He was sentencing her to death—or so it seemed.

The hall exploded. "Liar!" Raha screamed, falling to her knees in shock. "I swear to God, he’s a liar! He never touched me!" But the words had left Demir’s mouth, and the bullet was fired. Her father, Aslan, went mad. Honor, in their code, is washed with blood instantly. He pulled his pistol and aimed it at Demir, while Demir’s guards immediately drew their submachine guns at the family. The hall turned into a suspended war zone.

"Drop your weapon!" Aslan roared at Demir.

"You drop yours, or I’ll erase your family from existence before you can blink," Demir replied with icy calm, indifferent to the barrels aimed at his head.

The father lost it. His face turned crimson. "You w***e!" Aslan screamed, turning his weapon toward his daughter in a moment of blind rage. "You brought us shame!"

"No, Father!" Raha cried, trying to back away, but Jalal grabbed her angrily: "Were you with him? You slut!" The father aimed at Raha’s chest. "Death to you! Death to you!"

Before he could pull the trigger, a strong, firm voice rang out: "STOP!"

It was the grandmother—the matriarch whom even Aslan feared. She advanced with her cane and struck the floor. "Have you gone mad? Are we killing our daughter based on a stranger’s words?" She gave Demir a defiant look, then turned to her son: "She won’t be killed until we are certain. Honor is proven by blood, not words." She pointed at Raha: "Take her to the room and call the doctor immediately to examine her. If she lied... I will kill her with my own hands. For now, no bullets."

Aslan lowered his gun reluctantly. "Take her!"

Raha was dragged away, crying and screaming, "I’m innocent! Demir is lying!" Demir watched the scene with amusement. He had ruined the wedding, insulted the groom, and broken the pride of the girl who called him a bastard. He felt a delicious victory.

UPSTAIRS – RAHA’S ROOM

Raha was thrown into her room. The door wasn't locked—guards surrounded the hallway. Jalal soon entered. Raha flinched; her fear had surpassed its limits and turned into cold despair.

"Kill me now, Jalal..." she said with eerie calm. "Kill me and save my father a bullet tonight. Because you know, and everyone will know in hours, that I am not a virgin... because of you."

Jalal’s body stiffened. His smile vanished. He jerked her toward him violently, gripping her jaw so hard it nearly shattered: "If you open your mouth about the past... I will make your death so slow you’ll beg the devil to take your soul." He shoved her back against the vanity, adjusted his suit coldly, and left.

Noor entered after him and sat by her sister, weeping. "Raha... say you’re a virgin... say the exam will save you." Raha was shivering like a drenched bird, curled up in the corner.

Meanwhile, Demir was pacing the hallway coldly, taking advantage of the chaos below. He approached Raha’s room with the intent to gloat. He wanted to see her breaking up close. He stood by the slightly ajar door.

He heard Raha’s voice come out raspy, filled with pain and hopelessness: "Nothing will save me, Noor... I am dead either way."

"What do you mean?" Noor asked in horror.

Raha burst into tears: "I am not a virgin! Not because of Demir... but because of Jalal! He r***d me! He stole my honor through force and threats... but Demir, with his lie, has accelerated my death. The doctor will come, she will say I’m not a virgin, and my father will kill me thinking I was with the Turk... while the real criminal stands right beside him!"