Price of Passion

Chapter 2: Kismet (Fate)

18-year old Tahsin Yaman felt the pride swell up in his chest as the roaring hum of his brand new Ducati pierced the salty air of the Bosphorus quay, despite knowing very well that his class attendance is on a record strike of zero. He looked at the bike next to him and gave his partner-in-crime Koray Cerrahgil a thumbs up. Dude's got a beast, he thought. But my baby's better.

"Where's the finish line, man?" Koray shouted beneath his helmet.

Tahsin gave him a wide smile and pointed at the iconic red bridge that connects Asia and Europe. He placed his hands on the clutches and waited for the green light. 

3...2...1...

The Ducati and the Kawasaki roared as they raced along the quay. Furious honks went up from other drivers as the two cut through the busy traffic. Tahsin cheered as he overtook Koray by a distance. He could see the bridge looming in size as he reaches his finish line when all of a sudden he felt himself being flung into the air as the Ducati crashed into something. Tahsin felt his head explode as he landed hard onto the stone pavement. He could see stars for a moment and realised he couldn't move. A warm sensation oozed from his head, and Tahsin knew it was his own blood. He heard Koray's voice calling out for him, but he couldn't respond. It was the last thing he heard before fading into the void of nothingness.

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Checking her phone for messages, Aslı wondered how Ferhat's financial review meeting is going when she heard a sudden wave of commotion coming from Emergency. Instantaneously, her medical instincts kicked in as she saw two stretchers being wheeled in – a teenager and a woman, both with precariously bleeding head wounds. The boy had a neck collar installed, and the woman had multiple wounds and broken arms.

"What happened?" she asked the intern that checked the patients.

"Traffic accident," the intern said. "They are both very critical, Hocam."

"Prepare two operation rooms, and get Dr Selim here as well."

"Tamam, Hocam."

Selim wasn't amused when he saw Aslı at the operation theatres, scrubbing her hands with soap iodine. Pacing over to the sinks, he let the cold water run onto his hands and forearm before dispensing a shot of yellow liquid in his hands.

"Since you've called me," he said, sarcasm peppered all over his words. "Which one did you pick?"

Aslı gave him a questioning look.

"Pick?" She mused. "You talk like as if the patients are clothes in a store."

"Fine," he groaned. "I'll go for the woman."

"I thought so too," she said before entering the operation theatre. "Hadi kolay gelsın."

"You too."

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Flipping through the documents on his file, Ferhat tried to keep up as the representatives from their partner companies and the board of accountants gave him a review of their company's trading records. After a three-hour long meeting, Ferhat could barely breathe. What a bloody bastard you are Namık Efendi, he thought. So many unexplained transactions, transfers and payments. He was about to leave the table when a skinny-looking man approached him with a business card in his hands.

"Ferhat Bey," he said as he hands Ferhat the card. "My boss wants you to contact him as soon as you are available. He has something to tell you." 

Ferhat nodded and took the tiny business card into his hands. Mehmet Yaman, CEO, Yaman Corporations. He dismissed the man and went out to the gallery, overlooking the enormous lobby of the hospital. Scanning the place, he half-expected to spot that familiar shade of chestnut walking across the lobby in her white coat but he felt something drop inside as he didn't spot her anywhere. She's probably in surgery, he thought. Why did I even expect her to be idle and do nothing? Shaking off his thoughts, he looked at the card he was holding and took out his mobile. There were a few missed calls from Gülsüm. He dialled back, only to hear his son on the other side of the line.