The Mafia's Bride

Chater 31

Hazar's POV

The house has never been this quiet before.

And I've lived here alone.

Back then, I liked the silence. It meant control. It meant no one could reach me, no one could question me.

Now... it just feels wrong.

Like something is missing from the air itself.

I'm sitting on the edge of the bed, her letter still in my hand. I don't even remember how many times I've read it now. The paper is slightly crumpled at the edges.

"If you truly want me... show me."

I let out a breath, staring at those words.

"I built everything on actions," I mutter under my breath. "And still lost you."

My eyes move to her side of the bed.

Still untouched.

I don't go near it anymore. The first few days I did... like an idiot. Just sat there, thinking maybe she'd walk in, maybe this was all some kind of nightmare.

It wasn't.

She left.

And she didn't even look back.

The first week

I didn't sleep properly.

Every sound made me think it was her.

Every car outside made me get up.

Every time my phone rang, my chest tightened for a second before I picked it up.

It was never her.

I started calling people.

Everyone.

"Find her."

That's all I said.

No explanations. No details.

Just find her.

Ali didn't like it.

"She asked for space," he said one night, standing near the door like he wasn't sure if he should come in or not. "You're doing the opposite of what she wants."

"I'm not dragging her back," I said, my voice low. "I just need to know she's okay."

Even as I said it, something about it felt... off.

Because the truth was—I didn't just want to know she was okay.

I wanted to see her.

To hear her voice.

To stand in front of her again and fix whatever I broke.

But nothing came back.

No news. No trace.

Like she disappeared from the world.

Ali & Abraham

"You look like hell."

Abraham said it like always—blunt, no filter.

I didn't respond.

I was sitting in the office, food untouched in front of me. I hadn't even realized how long it had been there.

Ali leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "This isn't going to help."

I let out a dry laugh. "And what will?"

Neither of them answered.

Because there wasn't an answer.

That's the thing about this... there's no plan, no strategy, no move to fix it.