Next Station

Continuation of Chapter One

Road Construction & Civil Engineering Headquarters – Istanbul / Conference Room

Road maps and engineering plans were spread across the table. Three engineers—two men and one woman named Nazlı—sat in silence, waiting. Hakan, the company’s legal advisor, was beside them, flipping through a file.

When Kaan entered the room, everyone paused for a moment. He took his seat without a word, glanced over the documents, and asked:

“So—what’s the status of the rural road?”

One of the engineers, a middle-aged man with graying hair, responded:

The planned route for the main road cuts through land owned by a local property holder. Unfortunately, they’re refusing to cooperate.”

Kaan asked calmly:

“Have we made an offer to purchase the land?”

Hakan closed the file and said:

“Yes, but the owner has filed a complaint. The project is currently halted. But I’m following up—I’ll find a way.”

Nazlı added:

“The equipment and machinery are still at the project site. If the legal dispute continues, do we relocate them or leave them in place?”

Kaan paused for a moment, then turned to Hakan:

“If you think this is going to take time, have the equipment sent back.”

Nazlı hesitated.

“That might not be cost-effective. The relocation costs would be extremely high.”

Kaan nodded thoughtfully.

“Alright. Contact the local authorities. Maybe they can persuade the landowner. Sometimes the right path comes from the land itself—not from the maps.”

A brief silence settled in the room. Everyone could feel the shift in Kaan’s tone. He wasn’t just the lead engineer—he viewed every detail with a strategic eye, always looking for a way through a crisis.

Surprised by his insight, Nazlı lowered her head and started writing in her notebook.

Hakan said quietly:

“Legal disputes don’t usually resolve this easily… but we know you’ll find a way.”

Without lifting his eyes from the maps, Kaan gave each person around the table a slow glance, then returned to the plans.

“Yes. There’s always a way.”

The room was steeped in silence. Everything—the minimalist layout, the dark walls, the polished wooden floors—spoke of precise, deliberate design. A soft scent lingered in the air, neither sweet nor sharp—much like the man who owned the space.

Kaan sat behind his large, dark desk, his appearance sharp and composed—neatly styled brown hair, a well-kept physique, and green eyes that shimmered in the stillness.

Night – Janan’s Villa Garden on the Outskirts of Istanbul

Janan’s villa garden was glowing with colorful lights and fragrant flowers. The lush green trees around cast a pleasant shade, and the sound of laughter and friendly conversation echoed in the night air. Most of the guests had already left, leaving behind only a few of Janan’s close friends, seated around a table in the garden.

At the center of attention, Janan wore a playful smile. She stood and announced, “Now that the crowd is gone, it’s the perfect time to start a special, challenging game—just like the old days.”

She walked slowly toward Kaan and said with a teasing smile,

“You’ve always enjoyed IQ games and talent challenges, haven’t you?”

Kaan, looking slightly tired and withdrawn, seemed to be simply waiting for the night to end. But he reminded himself: “I owe Janan this night. Just days ago, she helped protect the company’s image and ease the media pressure.”

Janan knew Kaan well. With a sharp mind, he secretly enjoyed watching mental games and discovering people’s hidden strengths.

Just then, Sinan—always eager to draw attention in social settings—approached the group excitedly.

“Let me just say—my sister Maral is super smart. I bet if she were here, she’d win this game easily.”

Sinan, known for his reckless bets and constant gambling, boldly declared that his sister would be a fierce competitor in any mental challenge.

That made Janan laugh.

“Another bet, huh?”

Zeynep, Janan’s close friend and assistant at the news agency—and also Sinan’s girlfriend—felt the need to defend her boyfriend’s claim. She had met Maral several times before and knew her well.

“Maral was the top medical student at Seoul University.She's just moved back to Istanbul and is studying here now,” Zeynep explained. “I’ve seen her myself—honestly, I think she’s incredibly smart.”

Kaan and Tarik exchanged glances upon hearing about Sinan’s sister and the details Zeynep provided. Their curiosity piqued.

A coincidence? Could she be the same girl from the night of the roadside accident?

Tarik leaned in, grinning. “Sinan, you seriously need to convince your sister to come. Maybe tonight you’ll actually win a bet for once.”

Kaan noticed the mischief in Tarik’s eyes—but strangely, he too hoped that Maral was the same girl from that night.

Why was he hoping for that?

Sinan, who never liked being overlooked in these kinds of gatherings, didn’t want to be left out again. Swirling his drink in one hand, he said boastfully:

“If Maral were here, she’d crush all of you in this game.”

Tarik laughed.

“Sinan, stop wasting time. Call your sister and tell her to come. Just don’t bet on it—because you always lose!”

A little offended, Sinan replied,

“No, I’m serious. Maral is like... a genius. She’s studying medicine, but her brain’s sharper than anyone you’ve met.”

Tarik smirked with a mocking tone,

“Well then, if you’re so sure… call her. Let’s see what she’s got.”

Everyone was looking at him. Sinan hesitated for a moment, but to save face—and avoid more mockery—he picked up his phone and walked a few steps away from the group. He called Maral. She answered.

Sinan’s voice was low, anxious, and tinged with a performance of desperation:

“Maral... you know, I almost never ask you for anything. But this time it’s different. If you don’t come, they’ll all think I was just bluffing. I don’t want to be humiliated in front of everyone again. Just come for one hour. That’s all I’m asking.”

Maral, exhausted after a long hospital shift and ready to return to her dorm, heard the worry in her brother’s voice. She gave in—not for the party, not for the game, but simply to calm her brother’s heart.

Half an hour later, she arrived at the villa, lit with colorful lights.

Her eyes scanned the crowd quickly. Something in her gut told her she didn’t belong here, among all these strangers. Her chest tightened, but she reminded herself: “You came for Sinan. Just for him.”

She put on a lifeless smile, kept quiet, and sat quietly on the fringe of the gathering.

Maral had tied back her thick hair, though a few strands had fallen across her tired face. Her natural beauty was undeniable.

Wearing a simple white blouse and clean, well-fitted jeans, she looked modest and appropriate.

It didn’t take long for her to realize why she had been called there. The discomfort of being part of that crowd was obvious, but out of respect for her brother, she chose to say nothing.

Kaan’s gaze, unintentionally, lingered on her. He and Tarik recognized her immediately—she was the same doctor from the roadside accident. But both chose to stay silent. But Maral didn’t recognize them. That night of the accident, her eyes saw only the injured and the wounded.

She had come—not for the crowd, not for the party—but for her brother, whose eyes still echoed the helplessness of childhood.

And that night, without even realizing it, something began to stir beneath the surface—something that would slowly reshape the course of hidden emotions.

Sinan, excited like a child, hoping his sister could earn him some credibility, declared:

“Alright, Maral’s ready to join the game!”

Tarik, seemingly intrigued by her presence and by the game that was about to begin, looked at her with a mysterious smile and said:

“Then let’s start.”

Tarik picked the hardest questions from his phone. The questions were asked one by one. Sinan watched his sister closely, hoping he’d finally win a bet for once.

But Maral, calm and unshaken, answered each question without hesitation. Her precision and speed stunned everyone. Tarik kept escalating the difficulty, and Maral kept answering—effortlessly.

Kaan, clearly impressed by Maral’s mental acuity, began watching her more intently. The game gradually turned into a silent battlefield of intellect.

He couldn’t ignore her sharp mind. This unspoken duel affected him more than he expected. He was used to being the sharpest in any room—but now, he was facing someone who could challenge him with calm confidence.

As the questions grew tougher, Kaan silently signaled Tarik to keep going. He didn’t speak—he only watched.

In his world, where he had always assumed he was the smartest, the most intuitive—he now felt as if he was standing opposite someone who could meet him on equal ground, without flinching.

What had started as a party winding down had become a turning point for Kaan.

Trying to hide his emotions and not show how deeply impressed he was, Kaan quietly stood and stepped away from the group—without even realizing it, looking for somewhere more private. Somewhere to reflect on the impact Maral had just left on him.

Something had moved inside him. Something deeper than he was ready to admit.

There was something different about Maral—a girl who had walked in, not knowing the people or the setting, simply to protect her brother’s dignity. And she had done it beautifully, with a quiet strength louder than any protest.

Kaan watched as Maral prepared to leave. She even turned down Janan’s invitation to stay for dinner.

Maral stood up. Without a moment’s hesitation, she gave Sinan a brief, meaningful glance, silently telling him it was time to go. She didn’t say a word—just cast one last calm, indifferent look at the group.

She said goodbye. But along the way she walked away, there was a certain grace—a proud kind of silence.

They had mocked her brother, laughed at him, and even dragged her into it as part of their little game. And yet, for her sake, she played along.

And now—she has won.

Without showing anger, she stood and left—polite, detached, as if none of them mattered.

Sinan, sensing the storm behind Maral’s silence, ran after her in a mix of guilt and confusion. But he couldn’t find the words.

Maral turned to him and said nothing.

But her eyes screamed.

They pierced through him—filled with silent rage and sorrow. Her throat tightened. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

Yes, she was angry.

But more than anything, she pitied her brother.

Without a single word, she walked away—leaving behind a silence louder than any shout.

That silence spread across the villa—heavy and undeniable.

As Maral neared the garden gate, her throat felt tight. Her breathing was short. Something inside her was unraveling. Despite the tears pooling in her eyes, she fought to keep her composure—her pride had been wounded.

Kaan, standing quietly in the shadows, had seen the entire scene unfold. His eyes remained fixed on her.

Something inside him stirred—something indescribable. A mix of admiration, empathy, and perhaps a deeper understanding of who Maral truly was.

Her face—an intricate blend of fury, sorrow, pride, and unwavering strength—etched itself into his memory.

He felt it, deeply.

There was something in Maral’s gaze and presence that struck him hard.

His mind swirled with questions and conflicting emotions.

And something told him—

Maral was far more complex than she appeared.

At that moment, her eyes met Kaan’s searching gaze—

And then, she was gone.