HONOR, DIGNITY, AND PRIDE

Honor, Dignity, and Pride 5

CHAPTER 1: Whispers Beneath the Masks

Scene 1: Kürşad and General Manager Erman Bey (Confronting Arrogance)

Erman Bey stood before the mansion’s massive bulletproof glass window overlooking the Bosphorus, arrogantly swirling his crystal glass. He wore a tailored tuxedo with a subtle silver shimmer. Holding his chin high, he looked out at the guests as if they were mere subjects in his personal fiefdom.

Balancing a silver tray on my left hand, I glided toward him, my footsteps completely silent against the thick, hand-woven rug. The tray held only the finest Scotch whiskies and crystal glasses. Upon reaching him, I bowed my body at a respectful forty-five-degree waiter’s angle.

Without raising my head, keeping my voice perfectly smooth and ordinary, I whispered:

"May I refresh your whiskey, Erman Bey?"

Erman slowly turned his head toward me, his eyelids heavy with intoxication and disdain. His gaze drifted over my face, my tuxedo, and then to the calloused fingers holding the tray. He didn't recognize me. The meek Kürşad from the warehouse in his mind could never be reconciled with this sharply dressed man. Yet, his signature expression of superiority instantly surfaced; the corners of his lips curled upward, and he let out a condescending huff through his nose.

"Leave it," Erman said, deepening his voice so those nearby could hear. "But don't let your hand shake while pouring, kid. A single drop of this whiskey is worth more than that rented tuxedo you're wearing tonight. Don't handle these crystals like the porters down at the company."

My Inner Voice (Kürşad):

Look at you... The stale stench of alcohol and raw arrogance on your breath hasn't changed in seven years, Erman. If you knew the man standing before you was the very Kürşad whose face you threw papers at in your dark basement office, screaming, 'Who are you to question my budget report, you ignorant porter? Know your place!'—your fingers holding that glass would paralyze with fear. You sat up there in your air-conditioned office leeching dignity by humiliating people, while I was down below carrying the soil decomposed by those worms on my back. Now you preach refinement to me. When that velvet-lined steel collar clamps around your stiff neck in a few minutes, let's see if that vision you brag about can save you from that gas chamber. As your lungs burn for oxygen, you will crawl at my feet for a single breath. Soon.

Outwardly, I revealed nothing. Keeping my eyes lowered, I filled his glass with mathematical precision.

"As you command, Erman Bey. Enjoy," I said, retreating with the same practiced invisibility.

Scene 2: Kürşad and Manager Gürkan Bey (The Hunter's Trap)

I moved toward the bar counter, which was bathed in a dim red light. Manager Gürkan sat alone on the stool where he had just cornered Petek, running his fingers through his slicked-back hair. A toothy grin remained on his face as his eyes shamelessly scanned the legs and necklines of other young female employees in the room. The sharp, cheap ginger aphrodisiac perfume he wore made my stomach turn.

As I reached across the counter to collect empty glasses, Gürkan slammed his hand down with a heavy thud. Blinking slowly, he leaned toward me with a sly, sticky tone.

"Hey, waiter," Gürkan said, licking his lips. "Who has the keys to the VIP lounge rooms in the back? Berlin is the event coordinator, but she’s nowhere to be found. I need to discuss... the future of the holding with a special guest upstairs."

My Inner Voice (Kürşad):

A special guest... you filthy hyena. I am the only one in this room who knows that your 'discussing the future' means exploiting those girls' desperation to crush their dignity in bedroom suites. The tears of those intern girls sobbing against the cold white tiles of the restrooms are on your head, yet you still wag your tail at women here. There is nothing inside that slicked-back head of yours except lust and blackmail. Tomorrow morning, when the entire holding watches the audio recordings of those crying voices and disgusting bargains I took from those ventilation shafts over seven years, how will you open that toothy mouth of yours, Gürkan? I turned your s****l hunting ground into your grave with my own hands.

I plastered the most professional, vacant service-industry smile onto my face. Tilting my head slightly, I spoke:

"Berlin Hanım left the keys in the service room next to the library, Gürkan Bey. I can fetch them for you if you'd like."

Pleased with the answer, Gürkan smirked, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the counter. "Good kid, you know your job. Go grab them, and you can pick up your tip from Erman’s office at the holding on Monday," he said with a malicious wink.

"I will handle it immediately, sir," I replied, taking my leave.

Scene 3: Kürşad and Weasel Cevdet Bey (Trading Secrets)

Stepping into the dim shadow of the library corridor, I spotted Weasel Cevdet waiting against a wall, frantically rubbing his hands together. His neck was bowed forward, his darting eyes tracking İlkay Bey and Sevgül Hanım in the main hall. Like a true mole, his ears were perked to catch the slightest secret lingering in the air.

As I attempted to pass him with my empty tray, Cevdet abruptly cut me off. Dropping his voice to a frequency only I could hear, he stared at me with an insidious smile.

"Psst, kid," Cevdet said, gesturing toward a wad of cash in his pocket. "Did you see Can from accounting in the elevator foyer just now? He had a yellow envelope. Did you see who he gave it to, or which room he went into? Tell me the truth, and I’ll drop a month’s worth of your salary right here in your pocket."

My Inner Voice (Kürşad):

Weasel Cevdet... You think everyone has a price, that every piece of honor on earth can be bought with money, don't you? If you knew that I was the one who uploaded Erman’s fake invoices onto Can’s computer, that I was the one who threw Can in front of you as bait, those darting eyes of yours would pop out of their sockets. You are the security director of the holding, but your real trade is trafficking filth. You grew rich selling İlkay’s tapes to Sevgül, and Sevgül’s flaws to İlkay. But tonight, that sly smile of yours will shatter in the 'Mole Trap' I prepared for you. Your money and the secrets you sold won't be enough to save you when those steel doors lock.

I widened my eyes in feigned panic and swallowed hard.

"Cevdet Bey, I... I was just collecting empty glasses. I saw Can Bey, but he got into the elevator going upstairs with Elina Hanım. It was dark, I couldn't see if they were holding anything," I said.

Hearing this, Cevdet rubbed his hands harder, flashing a greasy smile. "Alright, alright, get lost now. Good job," he said, shoving me roughly by the shoulder as he crept stealthily toward the elevator.

"My apologies, sir," I whispered, watching him walk away.

I checked my watch: 21:50. The masquerade was almost over.