Heart of the Beast

Chapter 6

Ayla

Fury, confusion, and fear boiled a storm in the pit of Ayla's stomach at seeing Burak Sezin address the damage to his upscale mansion. She had left no stone unturned in the living room—quite literally—as she broke everything in sight, minus Meryem's shocked face. The woman was evidently under Burak's control and held no power to free her, so Ayla decided it was best to leave her unscathed.

Burak walked to where she sat on a pile of ripped cushions, admiring her handiwork with a smirk. He sat in front of her, crossing his legs and straightening his back to match her position. What a bastard this man was, really.

"Feel better? You know what makes me feel better? I have my men tie up my enemies in trash bags, hang them upside down, and then I make them my punching bags."

Ayla glared at him, trying to keep from throwing up at his strange hobby. She glanced at the man behind him, eyes narrowing in hatred. "You are the man who hit me."

"You hit her, Altan?" Burak questioned, sounding genuinely surprised.

"No, it was Ed. He knocked her out with the back of his gun before he put her in the car so that she would...shut up."

"I will have a word with Ed," Burak assured her.

Ayla hesitated, confused at his promise. "Why? How are you doing anything differently?"

"I don't think I've hit you with the back of my gun yet."

Altan watched them closely, his head tilted forward as if assessing their discussion. Ayla glanced at him before looking at Burak again.

"So no one in your mansion of sins will help me leave."

"No, they will not."

"I don't understand why I'm here."

"Perhaps you can try to get used to it for the time being, instead of questioning it."

"Get used to it? For what fucking reason? Do you intend on keeping me here until my hair turns gray?"

"I hear they have hair dyes for that."

"Sezin, did you just crack a joke?" Altan interfered, eyes widening.

Burak's jaw clenched. "You're dismissed, Altan. Go speak to Ed for me."

Altan whistled, evidently amazed by Burak's behavior, although Ayla couldn't understand why. Burak was a stranger for her, and whether he joked or hurled threats, she couldn't tell the difference. His voice was stoic and his expression hard, and an invisible bubble of arrogance surrounded him every time he spoke.

Left alone in the room with the beast, Ayla wondered if she should resort to begging or try to pull the truth from him.

"Did Vic think of you as his friend?" she finally tried.

His left eye twitched slightly. "Victor was an asshole."

"Was?" Ayla whispered, a single tear making its way down her cheek. His eyes traced the tear down her neck. "Is—did you kill him?"

"Asking me about him will not get you any answers. Neither will breaking my things, because frankly speaking, I will make you clean up the mess in the future. Meryem has other things to tend to than these tantrums."