BLACK ROSE (COMPLETED)

22 -

When Sinan extended his hand to me, I grasped it and pulled myself up. Yet, the sensation of holding his hand was far from pleasant. I knew that Fatih and I were not officially a couple, but it felt as though a chamber of my heart accused me of betraying him. As the rest of my heart argued that I was doing it for Fatih's sake, the judge delivered his verdict: I was sentenced to dance with Sinan for five minutes.

We walked hand in hand, weaving past the couple engaged in conversation, until we reached a secluded, dimly lit corner of the room.

"I love this song," Sinan remarked as his hand slipped around my waist. I rested my hands on his shoulders, and together we began to sway in harmony to the romantic tune filling the shadowed room.

"I'm not familiar with it."

"It's an old song by Michael Bolton. You look stunning tonight."

"Is that the name of the song?" I asked playfully.

"No, Ece, I'm talking about you. You are stunning."

"That's relative, I think."

If that weren't the case, Mr. Fatih wouldn't have brushed me off so easily...

As fate would have it, the subject of my thoughts appeared just then, entering the room with a full glass of drink in hand. Fatih's eyes found us without difficulty, and for a few seconds, he stood there, watching as Sinan and I danced.

When Fatih returned to his seat in front of the television, he sank into it, deep in his brooding thoughts once more. It seemed that my plan to make him jealous had not worked. At least, not yet.

In that moment, I felt Sinan's hands subtly slide down from my waist. His mischievous fingers now rested on my hips, gripping them as our dance continued.

I couldn't let him keep holding me like that. I had to warn him sternly:

"You're touching something forbidden, Sinan."

"What?"

"My forbidden zone."

"Your zone?"

"That is forbidden."

"What is forbidden?"

"The- Oh come on! My bottom, Sinan! You shouldn't be touching it."

"So where should I touch, Ece?"

"Must you touch me somewhere?"

"That's how this dance is."

As I engaged in this futile argument with Sinan, I noticed Fatih downing his drink in one go and rising from his seat. He was heading in our direction, his stormy blue eyes locking onto mine. As he drew near, I took Sinan's hands from my hips and guided them back up to my waist.

"This party is getting boring, Ece," Fatih said, his face an unreadable mask. "Shall we leave?"

Was he truly bored of the party, or was it because Sinan's hands had been squeezing my hips?

"Now?" I asked, feigning reluctance.

"Yes."

Sinan interjected, "But we were dancing..."

Fatih turned to Sinan, casting him a withering look before his gaze returned to me.

"Are you coming, Ece?" Fatih repeated, his tone firm and slightly insistent.

"Yes, I'm coming," I said.

Don't be mad, my fierce husband...

The master of the house always has the final say...