Gianna's POV
Istanbul doesn't greet you with silence; it greets you with a roar that forces you to be alive.
The sound of ferries crossing the Bosphorus, the cries of roasted chestnut vendors, the chaotic traffic that seems like a metallic dance, and, above all, the Ezan, the call to prayer that reverberates from the minarets and settles in the center of your chest.
I walked through the streets of Karaköy with my small suitcase hitting the cobblestones. My first day in Turkey was a mixture of pure adrenaline and an exhaustion that threatened to make me collapse at any corner.
But I couldn't afford to get tired.
Sebastian was a man of endless resources, and although the ocean separated us, his shadow still loomed over my nightmares.
"Merhaba," I whispered, practicing once more as I sc
