Hearts of the Bosphorus

Chapter 14

The Unavoidable Tension

The cool morning breeze swept through the open windows of Isabella's apartment, carrying with it the faint scent of the sea. The light of dawn filtered through the sheer curtains, casting soft shadows across the living room floor, where Marco sat surrounded by a jumble of toy cars and a large, colorful map of Istanbul. He traced the winding streets with his finger, making engine noises as he imagined his cars zooming through the city.

Isabella watched him from the kitchen, a small smile tugging at her lips as she sipped her coffee. The sight of her son, so absorbed in his imaginary world, brought a warmth to her chest that she clung to in moments like these—moments when she could almost forget the pressure weighing down on her shoulders. In the weeks since they'd returned to Istanbul, these quiet mornings had become a rare source of peace.

"Hey, buddy," she called softly, leaning against the doorframe as she watched him move his favorite red car across the Bosphorus Bridge on the map. "You know, you might be the only person in this city who doesn't mind the traffic."

Marco looked up, his face lighting up with a grin that showed the gap where his front tooth had recently fallen out. "I'm not stuck in real traffic, Mamma! My car's super fast. It can go anywhere."

She laughed, the sound easing some of the tension she carried. "You're right. I guess that makes you pretty lucky."

He beamed at her before turning back to his map, muttering to himself about racing through the narrow streets of Sultanahmet. Isabella set her cup down and knelt beside him, smoothing a hand over his messy curls. He leaned into her touch, his small body radiating warmth, and for a moment, she let herself bask in the simplicity of the moment.

But even as she knelt there beside Marco, a familiar anxiety stirred in the back of her mind. She thought of the collaboration with Balik International, of the issues that had already begun to arise from their attempts to manage the project through intermediaries. Since the night of the banquet, she and Omer had carefully avoided meeting face to face, relying on their respective representatives to handle the details of the partnership.

But the distance had only caused confusion, conflicting messages, and delays that were starting to frustrate Delvecchio. Tomaso had told her just yesterday that if they didn't resolve the misunderstandings soon, the entire project might be at risk. And she couldn't afford for that to happen—not when so much depended on its success.

She pushed the thoughts away, forcing herself to focus on Marco as he picked up a blue car and added it to his imaginary race. But her phone buzzed on the counter, drawing her attention back to the reality she couldn't escape. She glanced at the screen, recognizing the number immediately.

Clara.

She gave Marco a quick kiss on the forehead, ruffling his hair. "I'll be right back, sweetie. Don't let your cars get too rowdy, okay?"

Marco nodded, barely looking up as he continued his game, and Isabella stepped into the hallway to take the call.

Clara's voice came through, tense and worried. "Mrs. Adorno, I just spoke with the Delvecchio team. They're growing frustrated with the lack of coordination between us and Balik International. They want more clarity on the design elements and timelines."

Isabella sighed, pressing a hand to her forehead. "I know, Clara. I've been trying to manage it through Tomaso, but Balik's side seems to have their own ideas about how things should go. It's like we're speaking different languages."

Clara hesitated, her voice dropping to a cautious tone. "Do you think it's time to consider a more direct approach? If this keeps up, it could affect the entire project, and we can't afford to lose Delvecchio."