Heart of the Beast

Chapter 4

Ruya

If the borders of Turkey could talk, they'd recite the legend that was the Sezin family. As far back as Ruya could remember, her family had claimed most of the real estate. She had tried to fight her way in her family's professional life, to discover whether the legends she heard of her ancestors were true. Were they as evil as she often heard? Were they as powerful as people judged them to be?

Thanks to her older brother, Burak, Ruya never had to find out. He sent her to the United States to focus on her education. He sheltered her from the reach of her family name, though she never figured out why. In the Upper East Side that she called home, Ruya Sezin was just another name. Back here in Istanbul, however, Ruya was once again the daughter of the Sezin family and Burak Sezin's younger sister.

"Care for some kaava?"

Ruya turned from her window, smiling at her childhood friend, Altan. He was one of Burak's closest friends, if you could call them that. If her hardheaded brother could trust this man, Ruya knew she could too.

"Thanks." She smiled, taking the red tea he offered. He held a cup of his own and looked around at her room thoughtfully.

"It's been a while since I came here," he admitted. "The mansion is very empty without you."

"Of course it is. I am the joy of this haunted mansion, after all."

Altan laughed, nodding in agreement. "Burak tells me you will spend some time here. Got any plans?"

"To dig deep into the confines of this mansion and learn my family history," Ruya confessed.

Altan visibly cringed. "Probably best to let things be. What troubles you?"

Ruya shrugged. "Nothing. I would like to know where my brother gets so much money from, considering he never shares any business details with me."

"Last I remember you were interested in art. How's that coming along?" Altan asked.

"Nice try to change the topic." Ruya winked knowingly. "And it's going well. I want to open my gallery someday."

"Burak can—" Altan began, but Ruya held a hand to stop him.

"I want to open a gallery," she interrupted. "Not have my brother pay for a gallery and then probably pay people to like my work. I intend on finding a partner who shares the same passion for art."

"Oh?" Altan asked, leaning against the door. "Any close friends?"

"A few. I refuse to disclose names. The last time I did that, you and Burak launched a whole private investigation into people's lives."

Altan grinned. "The things we discovered, though! Affairs, tax fraud, betrayal—"

"Oh, shut up." Ruya laughed. "Thanks for the tea. I'm going to head into the kitchen to grab a snack to accompany this."

"Someone can bring it for you," Altan offered.

"My, my, you spoiled rich brat." Ruya sighed dramatically, shaking her head as she walked past him. "God gave you hands. Use them."

"Oh, trust me, it's what I do best." Altan smirked.

Ruya shot him a look as he descended back downstairs, giving her a small wave.

She paused when she reached a mahogany wooden door at the end of the hallway. The mansion boasted a European two-wing arrangement, and through this door was the west wing reserved for her family's business matters. Only the men used it. Curiously, Ruya pushed it open, walking over the bricked crossover that connected the two wings. Burak might kill her later for it, but when was she going to get the time to explore this place again?