Hearts of the Bosphorus

Prologue

Istanbul, Eight Years Ago

The city whispered its secrets in the quiet of the night, the soft glow of the Bosphorus reflecting the lights of a world neither awake nor entirely asleep. Isabella stood on the edge of the old pier, her breath catching as the wind tugged at her hair, drawing the dark strands across her face. She stared out at the water, but her mind was far from the view. Everything in her heart felt raw, as if it had been exposed to the elements—her emotions fragile, bleeding.

Shellshocked, she felt the sting of tears she could no longer hold back. The evidence of their lovemaking still clung to her body, a cruel reminder of what she had thought was a beautiful, genuine connection. She had felt so complete in his arms, every touch and kiss a promise of forever. Now, those moments felt tainted, corrupted by the bitter truth.

Behind her, the narrow streets twisted like a labyrinth, the place where her life had unraveled. She had once thought Istanbul was her destiny, that this city, with its magic and its contradictions, would be the place where she found her future. But the truth had come like a slap—sharp and brutal. There had never been a future for her here. Only illusions.

Her fingers clenched around the small pendant she wore—a gift from him. The boy who had promised her the world. The boy she had fallen for so effortlessly. And the boy she now had to walk away from. His name echoed in her mind, a bittersweet refrain she knew she would never fully escape.

She had been naive, swept up in the romance of a city and a boy who had shown her pieces of herself she hadn't known existed. She had believed in his warmth, in his laughter, and in the quiet moments when he had looked at her as though she were the only thing that mattered in the world. But even in his arms, there had always been shadows lurking. Unspoken things, secrets that had hidden just beneath the surface of their love.

And then, the truth had come out. He was never really hers. He belonged to another world—a world she could never be part of. A world of old money, power, and expectations. His grandmother had seen to that. Esma had made sure Isabella knew her place, and now, Isabella had no choice but to leave. Omer had been engaged to someone else all along, a fact Esma had revealed with a triumphant gleam in her eye.

Footsteps approached behind her, quick and frantic. She hid behind a nearby column and watched as he ran past, shouting her name into the night. "Isabella! Isabella, please!"

Her heart ached at the sound of his voice, but she remained hidden, her body trembling with the effort to stay silent. She couldn't face him, not now. Not after everything. She watched as he disappeared into the night, his desperate calls fading into the distance.

For the next few days, Isabella avoided him, making her plans to leave quietly without telling him. She heard him banging on her aunt's door, demanding to see her, but the older woman turned him away every time. She ignored his calls and texts, each one a reminder of the life she had to leave behind.

Finally, the night came when she could delay no longer. She left the city quietly, slipping away in the early hours of the morning. As she boarded the plane, she couldn't help but look back one last time. Istanbul had been a place of dreams and heartbreak, and now, it was a chapter she had to close.

She left behind the man she had once loved more than life itself. The man who would never know the truth. As the plane took off, Isabella felt a part of herself break, a part she knew she would never get back. But she had no choice. She had to move on, to find a new path, even if it meant leaving her heart behind in the city that had stolen it.