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67. A MONTH
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A TWENTY SOMETHING 68. IN AND OUT
HANATEN DAYS LATER "How much are you going to steal?" He asked me directly on the phone. Of course, he is Cillian Sebastian Merrick. I couldn't just hack everything. I need to level up my game. I need more practice. There is no seriousness in his tone and I couldn't say there is no emotion either. "A one hundred and thousand euros." I sighed. "I still can't make you bankrupt with that, can I?" I heard him chuckle. Bash chuckled!! But I didn't get to see that. I will go to these call recordings again to hear that once more. There is a pause and he didn't say anything. "Are you drunk, Bash?" I questioned him. Bash can hold his liquor. But he is a human too. And I don't think with everything that's happening between us, he wouldn't chuckle like that. Because that one thing was so pure about him. "Bash?" I called him again, my voice just above a whisper. "Hmm..." He drawled and I already missed him. I miss seeing him drunk, I miss when h
A TWENTY SOMETHING 69. STUPID THINGS
HANA Asshole. Asshole. Asshole. I couldn't control my anger or pain no matter how many times I cursed him. I should have known that this would happen. I should have known that hope never plays favours, that it leads to destruction. But did he have to be so mean, asking the security to throw me out? 'You stole his money and bought a painting of two hideous frogs, playing guitar and drinking beer.' My inner voice reminded me, "And hanged that in his office room.' It's not like I did it without telling him. I warned him. He didn't listen. It is totally fair. By the time I reached my home, I was exhausted, both emotionally and mentally. If he hadn't called me the day before, if he hadn't told me what he had, I wouldn't have been this hurt. My spirits wouldn't have been this low. I would have fought. Now, I am drained. I have no energy. "Hey, hey..." I heard a guy call me when I was struggling to unlock my door. I looked at him and said nothing. He s
A TWENTY SOMETHING 70. DON'T STOP LOVING ME
HANA I was kicking my legs and hitting him hard until I lost sight of the club. He didn't even put me in his car, and somehow, I ended up in what looked like a lavish penthouse suite. As soon as he put me down, I was running around the suite to find the washroom. I started to wipe my mouth, my face and my hands, crying hard. I felt his steps behind me, slow and steady totally in contrast to the storm inside me. "Hana," His voice was barely audible as he reached for me, his hands circling my waist. "Let go," I scream, rubbing the man's scent off me. I shouldn't have let him touch me. I shouldn't have danced with him just to spite Bash. I should have known better that the wounds faded just because I was accustomed to the touch of few men. "It's enough," He grimaced, trying to drag me away from the sink. "It won't go away," I cried. "It's all because of you. You did this to me." No matter how much I rub my skin with hand-wash, I fi
A TWENTY SOMETHING 71. TOGETHER
HANA "What the fuck did you do, Bee? I told you not to come searching for me. But you did that twice. NEW YORK and MILAN. You won't listen, will you?" I was surprised by the harshness in his voice when he gently wiped the remaining tears away. His words say something but his body does entirely a different thing. I remember the day his grandmother died, and he made me promise to not go searching for him. I didn't give much thought then. But it made sense now. Everything he did back then made sense now. He pressed a lingering kiss on the corner of my lips before he took them between his teeth ruthlessly. I moaned enjoying the sweetest assault. "I didn't promise you. Moreover, would you have left me if I were you" If he had doubts before, he doesn't look like he had them anymore. I barely heard myself when he looked at me with those hungry eyes. I cup his face, closing the distance between us. I heard him sigh, his hands slipping down into my blouse.
A TWENTY SOMETHING 72. WHAT ARE WE?
Hana “I am supposed to have a meeting with Mr. Hendrix.” Bash reminds me, his palms resting on my table. He leaned closer, his expression stoic as always that one wouldn’t believe that he was the same person who held me two days back and whispered sweet nothings in my ear when I was trembling from a nightmare. For a second I thought we went back to how we used to be, that whatever happened at the penthouse is another drunken mistake. I quickly checked my notepad. I did write about the meeting that needs to be scheduled but I didn’t schedule it. The day before yesterday I thought of scheduling it the next day. Yesterday, I met with a few stakeholders along with Dahlia. “I wasn’t here yesterday.” I tried to reason. “You’re supposed to schedule it the day before yesterday. Surely, you heard that from Dahlia.” He looked annoyed now, something I haven’t been habituated to, not yet. “You can’t survive with this attitude here. You better pack your bags.” Nothing in the way he
A TWENTY SOMETHING 73. YOU & ME AGAIN
HANA I met with the second most ridiculously handsome guy I have ever seen. He has the same green eyes as Bash but he looked older than him, probably in his mid-thirties or early forties. That guy smiled and I remembered all the lectures Dahlia gave me about how I should communicate with every VIP. I shook my head, feeling my cheeks burn in embarrassment. "I am sorry. I.. I ..didn't mean to say that. What's your name again?" There is a lighter in his hand which he was flicking often for no reason. "Alexander King," He says rather arrogantly, and I check my tab to see Bash's schedule for today. "You are not on the list," I murmured to myself. "I won't. But I will meet him." He informed with another flick. "That," I pointed to his lighter, "Is not allowed here." His head fell back as he laughed. "Who will stop me, you?" I want to say, me. Dahlia and Bash will take another lecture to me if I have done a
A TWENTY SOMETHING 74. RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME
HANA I have read hundreds of news articles about Alexander King and none mentioned Bash's name in it. How did they two relate to each other? I dug in more, and one article wrote about the attacks on Alexander King a few years ago followed by the death of Remo Mancini, who was rumoured to be the consigliere of some Cosa Nastra. It is just like a novel. Ahmet told me that Elio had started searching for Bash after his son's death. Now I wonder if Alexander killed Elio's son. I put my phone back into my bag and concentrated on the Sandwich in my hand, and wished it was Gelato instead and I was with Bash in his office while he looked at me as though I would disappear if he looked away. Bash and I are finally falling into a routine. We talk when we are at the office. He gave me a new phone which I use to text him and when he replies, which he rarely does, we stay for hours until our fingers hurt with all the typing. Sometimes he would disappear, and he wouldn
A TWENTY SOMETHING 75. THE MATRIX
BASH Alexander whistled as soon as I walked into the VIP room in Esten's bar. "How does it feel to fuck up one thing that gave meaning to your pathetic life, huh?" If only I had the power to kill him right here, I would have done it in a second. It's not what he said that bugged me, it's the truth in it. One more time, I successfully pushed her away. Kudos to you, Bash. You did what you want and left her on that bed without a glance. The look she gave me while she wrapped her pyjama shirt around her chest still haunted me. I did what I did last time. I kissed her, touched her and pushed her away. She was supposed to be there on Saturday. I was prepared how to send her away if she had shown up. But I wasn't prepared how to handle the knife in my chest when she never showed up. Apparently, she booked a flight to Istanbul. She had gone. No, Bash. You sent her away. Alexander handed me a bottle, and I swig it, feeling the burn in my throat. It doesn't
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