Lord

You loved me too!

Can was staring at her office windows as he was being driven to his jet, he was flying to Moscow for a couple of days, invited by Sergei who wanted to smooth their relationship. The whole Miami debacle was almost a month old now and he had not seen her again. The old Can had taken over and he was now fully focused on the business, working even longer hours than before so his father would never doubt him again. Emre had surprisingly held his end of the bargain and was remaining focused and somewhat sober enough to run the side of the business he was responsible for. Aziz couldn't be happier and his good mood meant the mansion was often busy with parties and crowded with various people from real estate agents of the rich and famous to luxury escorts and anyone that could appear as a good cover to their legitimate business.

Emre kicked Can's legs off the coffee table so he and his evening date could walk across and sit in the sofa facing the bar and makeshift dancefloor. Can had drunk too much to get pissed off.

E: ''look at you brother... you are taking over the drinking business since I slowed down...'' Can remained impassable and just stared at his brother for a few seconds.

E: ''pick one...'' Emre pointed his chin at the group of ladies with very little clothes on that were dancing in front of them. ''You can have any of them... just like old days...'' Can stood up to leave, ''a monk!'' Emre shouted while laughing out loud to humiliate his brother. ''A monk since he lost his precious Sanem... I took her after you did you know, she's not that great...'' Can turned around like a mad bull, ready to trample Emre but was caught half way by Mo and Umut.

Mo: ''he's lying... he didn't... Can...'' Can was too drunk to fight Mo for long and let his bodyguard pull him aside under the curious eyes of the guests.

Mo: ''he didn't touch her.'' Mo kept saying to his face.

C: ''how do you know?''

Mo: ''because I was there when he tried and he didn't.''

C: ''you stopped him?!?'' Mo's silence was his response. ''Fucking asshole!'' they had walked into the side lounge and Can violently kicked into a small console that collapsed to the floor. ''What a fucking piece of shit!'' he kicked the mirror with his fist and broke it in pieces, his hand covered in cuts and bleeding within seconds.

Mo: ''Can!'' Mo was struggling to control him but didn't want anyone else to see him in this state. He helped him to his bedroom and dropped him on the bed.

Mo: ''Stay, I'll clean you up.'' He returned a couple of minutes later with the first aid kit. ''You've got to stop that shit Can, stop drinking every night, leave your brother alone, be the smarter one! I'm not your fucking babysitter!'' All the cuts were superficial and Mo started wrapping a large bandaid around Can's hand.

C: ''you were right Mo... she had no chance...'' Mo almost pretended not to notice and kept going at his task, he knew it was drunk talk. ''I... I don't know how to stop thinking about her... and the pain... that fucking pain that never goes away... I wake up with it, nothing stops it...the drinking, all that money, running like a maniac for hours...''

Mo pulled a chair and sat in front of him, ''what do you want?''