Erkenci Kuş: Bad For Me

Chapter 9: In Which Huma and Yigit play their trump card

Huma paced around Yigit's office, her Louboutin heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. Her finely arched eyebrows drew together in frustration as she considered her next move. Polen's departure had left her with one less ally, and she knew that separating Sanem and Can would be no easy task.

"Yigit," Huma began, her voice slicing through the silence like a knife through silk, "I simply cannot allow it to continue."

Yigit leaned against the mahogany desk, his fingers absently tracing the intricate carvings as he smiled with the ease of someone who knew their power. "You speak of Can and Sanem?" he asked, oozing charm.

"Polen has failed," Huma said bluntly, her tone cold as ice. "But we have another opportunity to separate Sanem and Can. Are you willing to help me?"

"Of course," Yigit replied, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

"Sanem is not one of us," Huma said, her words clipped with disdain.

"Sanem is not that bad. I won't mind her for myself." Yigit drawled.

"She's a dreamer, a whimsical little thing with no understanding of our world."

"Ah, but isn't love supposed to conquer all?" Yigit teased with a sardonic lilt, observing Huma through hooded eyes.

"Love," Huma scoffed, the word leaving her mouth like a bitter taste. "Love is a distraction. Can must realise his responsibilities, and Sanem... she will only hold him back." Her gaze drifted away, lost in a memory where control equalled love, and independence was synonymous with abandonment.

Remember, dear Huma, how easy it was to convince her to leave the agency and work with me?" Yigit reminded her, the smoothness of his tone wrapping around the past like a seductive mist. "One drink, one charming conversation, and she was putty in my hands."

Huma's eyes snapped back to focus, the corners of her lips twitching involuntarily. It was true; Yigit had that effect on people, twisting perceptions with a mere smile. A convenient trait, especially now.

"Your talents are wasted on such trivial pursuits," Huma stated, her mind racing with possibilities. She rose from her seat, pacing the room, each step measured and deliberate. "I need your skills once again, Yigit. This time to extricate Sanem from our lives."

"Consider it done," Yigit replied, his confidence as unwavering as the glint in his eye. In his mind, he replayed countless times when he'd manipulated outcomes to his favour, the thrill of the game always leaving him hungry for more.

"Be cautious," Huma warned, pausing mid-stride to fix him with an icy stare. "Can is not easily fooled."

"Ah, but deception is an art form, and I am an artist," Yigit said with a flourish, his voice light but carrying the weight of his past victories. He remembered the rush of duping investors, the satisfaction of bending the truth so elegantly that it danced to his tune.

"Then paint me a masterpiece," Huma replied, her resolve hardening like the jewels that adorned her neck. She turned her back to him, staring out into the cityscape, the minarets and domes cutting silhouettes against the sky. Inside her chest, something twisted and writhed – the fear of losing her son to a life she couldn't shape, a narrative she couldn't write.

"Sanem Aydin," Huma muttered, her voice dripping with disdain. "I will not let that girl ruin my son's life." The thought of her beloved Can, entranced by such an ordinary girl, filled her with indignant rage.

As their scheme took shape, Huma felt a renewed sense of purpose. The battle may have been lost, but the war was far from over.

"Trust me," Yigit said, moving closer, his words almost a whisper against the backdrop of the bustling city beyond. "By the time I'm done, Can will see Sanem for what she truly is – an impediment to his future. And she will be mine."