Hearts of the Bosphorus

Chapter 21

Misunderstandings

The setting sun painted Istanbul's skyline in hues of gold and crimson, but Isabella Adorno saw none of it. She paced her luxurious apartment like a caged tigress, her Louboutins clicking a frantic rhythm on the marble floor. Her phone was pressed to her ear, her knuckles white with tension.

"Layla, I'm still upset with you. How could you not tell me?" Isabella's voice was a mix of hurt and accusation. "Your own brother, and you didn't think to mention he's the CEO of Balik Corporation. Are we really friends?"

Layla's sigh crackled through the speaker. "Bella, calm down. I thought you knew. I mean, you dated the man. How did you not know his surname?"

Isabella stopped short, her free hand flying to her forehead. "I... I don't know. He was always just Omer to me. God, I was so young and stupid."

"You were in love," Layla said softly. "It makes fools of us all."

Isabella's eyes drifted to a framed photo on the mantle – a beautiful little boy with Omer's dark eyes and her curls. "Love," she whispered, her throat tight. "Look where that got me."

"Bella," Layla's voice took on a serious tone. "about Marco-"

"No," Isabella cut her off sharply. "And he can't yet."

A moment of heavy silence hung between them before Layla spoke again. "So, what are you going to do about dinner?"

Isabella glanced at the clock and swore softly. "I have to go. I can't let him think I'm afraid."

"Be careful, Bella," Layla warned. "My brother... he can be intense."

"Don't I know it," Isabella muttered. "I'll call you later."

She ended the call and hurried to her son's room. Marco was fast asleep, his dark lashes fanned against his cheeks. Isabella's heart clenched as she bent to kiss his forehead.

"Mommy loves you, little prince," she whispered. "More than anything in this world."

With a final glance at her sleeping child, Isabella squared her shoulders and left the apartment. She had a battle to fight.

* * *

The Michelin-starred restaurant glowed like a jewel in the Istanbul night. Isabella's car pulled up to the curb, and she took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come.

As she stepped out, her eyes were drawn to a familiar figure standing just outside the restaurant's entrance. Omer cut an impressive silhouette in his tailored suit, but it was the woman beside him that made Isabella's breath catch in her throat.

Elif was reaching up to adjust his collar.

"You look perfect, Mr. Balik," Elif was saying, her eyes sparkling with admiration. "But may I ask... why I'm here too?"

Omer's laugh was rich and warm, a sound that sent a shiver down Isabella's spine even from a distance. "All will be revealed soon, Elif. Trust me."

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. She had been such a fool. Before Omer or Elif could spot her, Isabella spun on her heel and hurried back to the waiting car. Tears blurred her vision as she fumbled with her phone, her fingers flying over the screen.

To: Sexy Beast
Message: I need you. Please come to Istanbul. Everything's falling apart.

As the car pulled away from the curb, Isabella allowed herself one last look at Omer. He was still standing there, handsome and powerful, completely oblivious to the heart he had just shattered all over again.

* * *

Back at the restaurant entrance, Omer frowned as he checked his watch again. "She's late," he muttered.

Elif shifted uncomfortably. "Mr. Balik, perhaps we should go inside. It's getting chilly out here."

Omer shook his head, his eyes scanning the street. "Just a few more minutes. I need to explain to Isabella that you and I... that we only have a professional relationship. This misunderstanding has gone on long enough."

But as the minutes ticked by and the night grew darker, Omer couldn't shake the feeling that something had gone terribly wrong. Somewhere in the vast city of Istanbul, Isabella Adorno was slipping through his fingers once again.