Chapter Two Hundred and Eleven
Ahmet hadn't agreed.
She had seen it in the way his jaw set, in the quiet stretch of silence that followed her insistence. He hadn't raised his voice. He hadn't argued the way he usually would. Neither did he yell or scold her like she were a little girl.
But he hadn't wanted her to go. That was as clear as the day.
'I'm going back,' she had said anyway.
And this time, it hadn't felt like two enemies standing their ground. It had felt… different. Like every word carried weight now, they were careful and filled with care, even irritation that sounded like something else.
Strangely, she hadn't minded it.
The Villa felt colder when she stepped in. Like always, her father's room was darker though it was morning.
Though they had enough space between them, Demir stood beside her. Or rather, he forced himself to.
