A story based on Can Yamans Turkish dizi.
Ozgur Atasoy.
Rich, handsome, Club/bar owner and DJ lives in an exclusive rooftop penthouse in Istanbul.
He's a Player.
A lover of beautiful things and he can't resist one night stands with beautiful women...
I don't know why I blurted that out to her. I'm never normally so candid, and I've never revealed this part of my life to anyone, let alone a woman who's shared my bed.
Ezgi somehow sees the real me... And perhaps on some subconscious level, I want her to know everything... and I don't know if that's a good thing yet.
Now, Huma. I can barely stand to look at her. My nostrils flare and already a pounding beat begins in my head, taking me back in time.
The sound of the rain, that night, and her voice, screaming in my ears, is one I'll never forget.
I'd offered to identify them both, at the Coroners Office, but she'd come anyway, bursting through the door, in a whirlwind of venom, directed at me.
"You killed her! You and your father! What did you do to her?"
She had to be escorted out by the staff until she'd calmed down.
My pen, halted and shook in my hand, on the paperwork they'd given me to fill in.
Name of Deceased...Aziz Atesoy Relationship to Deceased....Son
Name of Deceased... Arzu Korel Relationship to Deceased...?
What was she to me?
Fiancée? Girlfriend? Lover? Family friend?
When they called me in, the box was still blank. They pulled me aside and asked me, outright. I stared forward at the door to the small room, where their shrouded bodies lay.
"Lawyer. I was her Lawyer."
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I sought Huma out afterwards. She looked terrible. She was usually so together, taking pride in her immaculate make up and clothes. In company, she'd flounce around, her coat hanging off her shoulders. Tonight, her curly hair had crinkled in the rain and had sprung up into unflattering frizzy ringlets. Not her usual style of a smooth bouffant blow dry. I hated her airs and graces. Keeping my cool is difficult, so I sit down and put my head in my hands, hard thinking about how to start this conversation. I speak slowly, and take lots of deep breaths.
"Have you spoken to the police?" "My poor girl...my beautiful girl. I saw you. Wheel spinning out of the garage. You were driving like a mad man, and he followed you, with her in the car."
My head snaps up. "You were there? Outside the office? What? Why? Did you see what happened?"
She hid her face in her handkerchief and shook her head. I'm beginning to form a picture here.
"My daughter... Why was she in his car? I didn't tell her to get in his car."
"What did you tell her to do? What was the plan? Seduce me first, and then blackmail my father?"
