Year 2026, January
From Taylan
Burn this time already, my dreams are never enough.
My smiles have always been pale since the beginning of time.
My dreams are sharp, like knives soaked in blood.
In the whiteness of the night that became my shroud, I dream of you.
Now time slips away mercilessly.
Your departures are remembered only by their beauty,
while my staying is remembered only by its ruin.
Our love has vanished far too much.
Let the wind scatter your hair across my face one last time.
My heart is already captive to you.
Now strike it with your own hands, from the deepest place,
for that alone would bring me peace.
Don't ask me about myself anymore.
I've become a stranger to my own soul.
And now I'm leaving without looking back,
without even taking a kiss from the dimples on your cheeks.
---
Year 2026, January
From Liya
I think…
I think…
But nothing comes alive in my mind.
Or perhaps I have no strength left to bring anything alive.
Am I God?
What should I bring to life?
But still, ask me—ask me to breathe you back into existence.
Yes…
Find peace with me.
Live, feel.
But do not hate your own being.
Do not hate the existence I once begged for on my knees—
the existence I prayed for even when I had no faith in God.
Don't force me to live without you.
Now I place my heart into your palms.
Listen to the way I whisper your name.
The one I recite like a prayer…
The one I can't even bear to hear…
The one that falls from my lips.
Because if these lips remain without you,
your departure will be the final one.
But you—
stay with me.
Love me until dawn.
And yet now…
I loathe your existence.
I scatter every cell of my being before you.
And I scream your name with hatred.
My moans have turned into screams.
Every second without you was a punishment.
I woke again this morning.
The coffee cup you left behind… stone cold.
Your belt on the floor, just lying there.
My mind too clouded to even remember.
I closed my eyes.
I imagine you.
My skin craves your touch.
I touch myself as though you were here…
But I know nothing will ever be the same again.
So what now?
Are you happy?
Did that cliff finally tower over you?
Or did you drown in the sea that lived in my mind?
Even God no longer believes in you.
Even He feels your faithlessness in His very being.
Is this what you wanted?
Or has your own misery devoured you as well?
Did you run off to places that should never exist?
Those corners that stole you from me…
Are they happy now?
Or do they know too
that you've become nothing—
nothing to me?
---
The Demir Family, 2024
Files, papers, charts… everything was within my reach.
And yet, what I hated most was exactly that:
that everything was within my reach.
My prey, Umut Demir, was watching me with his eyes.
I could see the regret and betrayal shining in his pupils.
I would not apologize—because I had no reason to.
This was my job.
And if they were foolish enough to fall for me,
then so be it.
But no matter how clever they were,
no one could ever escape me.
No one could escape the foxes running wild in my mind.
Because I was Liya Tunç.
And unlike my name, I was never patient.
I never stopped until I got what I wanted.
I couldn't.
And now I had gotten what I wanted:
a chest full of money,
nine days' worth of dirty secrets
from wealthy, corrupt families,
and their fear.
But no matter how well I did my job,
I could never shake the fear off me.
And I knew I never would.
Because the one who was afraid wasn't really me.
It was the little girl inside me.
---
Present Day
Ex-girlfriend.
Ex-girlfriend.
Ex-girlfriend.
Why was I so hung up on this? He was a grown man—he wasn't going to stay single forever. Who knew how many exes he had by now? I'd had boyfriends too; it was perfectly normal.
But if it was so normal, then why did I feel like this right now? Why did my whole body ache as if I'd just slammed into a wall? I didn't know. And I didn't want to think about this stupid feeling any longer.
"When did you come back from abroad?" That was the first thing Taylan said when he let go of my hand and took a step toward her.
Selen seemed pleased by his small show of interest, smiling instantly.
She stepped closer, narrowing the distance between them, and said:
"What's this, do you actually care about me now?"
Taylan's face twisted into a mocking grin.
"You think I care that much? Don't flatter yourself. I was just being polite—we've got history, after all."
My palms grew sweaty.
Was I jealous of the man I'd kissed?
Or was I jealous of the man who was supposed to be my fake husband?
Shit. Both.
I wanted to drown myself. Hard.
Selen looked bothered by his words, so she quickly changed the subject. Turning to me with a forced smile, she said:
"She's pretty. Congratulations. Since you're holding her hand, there must be something there."
Taylan's expression hardened instantly, his eyes saying loud and clear: "None of your damn business."
Then he stepped closer to me.
Wait—had he really just moved closer?
Oh god.
Shit.
He was holding my hand!
Looking me straight in the eye, he said:
"My fiancée."
But we weren't engaged!
Almost like he'd heard my thoughts, he continued:
"I mean, we're getting engaged."
Why the hell was he doing this now, when last night he'd flat-out ignored me?
I didn't know.
But I couldn't lie—it made me happy.
Actually, the more I thought about it, the more it made me happy…
Too much.
Then Mert, trying to break the tension, suddenly blurted out:
"Yengem!" (Sister-in-law!)
Both Selen and I whipped around at the same time:
"Yes?"
Shit shit shit! Idiot Liya, why the hell did you answer?
And why did she answer too?
God, I was losing my mind.
Mert burst out laughing, turning to Taylan.
"Bro, how many sister-in-laws do I have, man?"
I wanted to scream at him: She's not your sister-in-law. I'm your only fake sister-in-law, idiot!
But thankfully, I managed to keep my mouth shut.
Taylan rolled his eyes at Mert, who went on:
"I meant your current sister-in-law." He pointed at me.
"The old one lasted about three years, so I got used to her, excuse the slip. But honestly, I think she's prettier. I'm on your side, bro—not that witch Selen's."
Selen yanked his ear, furious, but he just kept laughing.
What a weirdo.
---
Taylan introduced me to all his colleagues at the company. Mert seemed the closest one, since they acted so familiar with each other. But when we left, I had a hundred questions buzzing in my head.
As we walked, I teased:
"So… a three-year relationship, huh? Wow. My longest was two months."
He laughed and turned to me.
"Factor in the age difference, gorgeous."
Was this idiot trying to act superior to me? Eat shit, Taylan, I thought, giving him a playful nudge to get to my next question.
He smiled, eyes curious, then cut me off before I could even speak:
"You get so cute when you're about to ask something."
I smiled, caught off guard.
Did he just call me cute?
No one had ever called me that. They always said "pretty" or "beautiful," but never "cute."
It felt… different.
I punched his arm like I was annoyed.
He laughed—and god, his laugh was beautiful.
I leaned closer.
"So, Taylan, your closest friend must be Mert, right?"
He burst out laughing.
"Don't be ridiculous. He's not even a friend."
I stopped in surprise.
What? Then what was all that friendliness earlier?
"I have one friend," he said at last.
"Liya."
Then he paused.
"I mean… I did."
"Did? What do you mean—are you not friends anymore?"
His expression shifted.
He clearly didn't want to talk about it.
So I stayed quiet, though my mind raced: This might be useful information. Maybe even something I could use to scam him with.
Then he finally spoke.
"She died."
One word. Four letters.
Dead.
---
We barely talked in the car. When he dropped me at my place, I finally stepped inside the home I'd been missing for days.
The fridge was still grumbling, the washing machine sat in silence, and my room, my bed, felt as foreign as ever.
I went straight to change—couldn't stay away from my pajamas any longer. I pulled out my red set from the closet and slipped into them quickly.
I was just heading to bed when the doorbell rang.
Damn it. Whoever it was, they could fuck right off. I wasn't in the mood for anyone ruining my peace.
Tomorrow was the real beginning, after all. I had so little time left for myself. Just a few hours, before I'd have to give my final classes at school and then meet up with Nazlı.
Grumbling like my fridge, I shuffled to the door. My building was so old it didn't even have a peephole, but I already knew who it was.
My landlord.
Uncle Ahmet.
I hadn't paid rent in months, thanks to that bastard İsa not giving me my cut properly. The moldy walls of this apartment suffocated me, but in a way, its darkness mirrored mine. This was probably the only home I'd ever have—one as unwelcoming and shadowed as I was.
But when I opened the door, my heart jolted.
Not Uncle Ahmet.
Taylan Sarp Parskan.
"Are you stupid or what? How do you forget your bag in my car?"
Oh shit.
I had.
Still in shock, I didn't answer.
"Hey, I'm talking to you. Do you hear me?" His voice was deep, smooth, maddeningly attractive.
Snapping out of it, I muttered:
"Uh… yes?"
He chuckled.
I must have looked ridiculous.
Then he reached for my chin again, like he always did. Why?
Every time, his fingers found the little mole there, stroking it gently.
And while doing so, his lips curved into a smile:
"Mind if I come in for five minutes? I'm thirsty. Sure, I could just grab water from the market, but maybe I just needed an excuse to see you. Don't overthink it, gorgeous."
I laughed despite myself.
He was stupid sometimes—but sweet stupid.
I brushed his hand away.
"Come in."
And then I realized.
Shit.
I was in my red pajamas—the ones with shorts so tiny they barely covered my ass, and no bra under the top, nipples clear as day.
I wanted to disappear.
But he… never looked.
Not once. His eyes never left mine.
I threw on a vest before heading to the kitchen, poured him a glass of water, and walked into the living room.
There he was—towering in my tiny space.
It made me laugh. His huge frame looked ridiculous on my small L-shaped couch, studying the black-painted walls and the paintings I'd made myself.
Taking the glass, he murmured:
"Seems like you're the only colorful thing in this place."
I sat down beside him with a smirk.
"No. The darkest thing here is me."
Our knees brushed.
"I don't think so," he said.
I smiled, because he really didn't know me.
"Tonight you're not as bold as last night," he added, making my cheeks burn.
I pulled away slightly, saying nothing.
"Do you think our kiss was a mistake?"
His gaze was sharp, curious.
"Why would I? Aren't we getting married?" His lips curved.
"Yes, but it's fake."
"Still. I'm not so sure about that part."
"Then why did you shut me out last night?"
"Because I felt something was off. You didn't seem real, not like when we kissed. I couldn't read you."
I froze.
This man was either unnervingly sharp, or I was slipping at my own game.
Standing, I muttered:
"I need to rest. Though it doesn't seem I'll get much sleep… Will you wait until I'm ready and drop me off at school tomorrow?"
He nodded.
---
After class, I went to meet Nazlı at the café—only to see that idiot Ateş again. This time with another girl. Relief flooded me. Maybe his obsession with me was finally over.
But when his eyes met mine, he looked away.
Strange.
Still, I was just glad.
Then shock hit me: for the first time ever, Nazlı was early. Sitting there waiting for me.
But she didn't hug me. Didn't smile. Her face was tight with anger.
I approached.
"My love, my darling friend, my shining star—what's wrong?"
"What's wrong?" she snapped. "Liya, do you seriously have to ask?"
"Okay, I know, but—"
She cut me off.
"And why are you lying to me?"
My heart stopped.
Which lie? God, there were so many.
"I came to your place yesterday. You weren't there. The neighbor said you haven't been home in days. Where are you, what are you doing, what the hell are you mixed up in, Liya?"
Sweat prickled my skin.
Lying to my best friend always made me feel sick.
"My love, I can explain everything—"
"Don't. I don't want explanations. Sometimes I don't even know if we're really friends anymore."
Her words shattered me. Tears welled in my eyes.
I never cried.
Not when İsa made my life hell after saving it.
Not through my worst days.
But now? In the middle of a café, in my best friend's arms, I broke down. Years of pain spilled out. And I sobbed—loud, ugly, raw.
Then I heard my name.
"Liya."
That voice.
So familiar.
I looked up.
Taylan.
"What's wrong, gorgeous?"
The café fell silent.
Taylan stared at me.
Nazlı stared at us both.
"What the fuck is going on here?" Taylan demanded, turning to her.
"And who the hell are you?"
Nazlı bristled.
"Who the hell are you?"
Still crying, I sat frozen as Taylan pulled up a chair, sat close, and lifted my chin.
"Tell me why you're crying."
Nazlı smacked his hand away.
"Get your hands off her! Who do you think you are?"
My sobs wouldn't stop. My body reacted as if it knew something I didn't.
Taylan said calmly:
"She's my fiancée."
"Fuck, Taylan! You can't just blurt that out like that!"
"Liya, stop crying and tell me everything," Nazlı pressed.
Taylan cut in:
"I told you already. We're getting married."
This boy was a disaster. He made everything worse.
Nazlı wiped my tears.
"Taylan, shut up," I snapped.
Turning to her, I whispered:
"My love, I couldn't tell you… but I'm getting married."
Her eyes widened.
"Are you kidding me, Liya? We didn't see each other for a few days and this happens? You're not pregnant, are you?"
Taylan laughed.
"No, my love," I said gently, brushing her hair.
"It's a fake marriage. You know how İsa and Semra are… They leave me no choice."
I winked.
Our secret code: "I'm lying—play along."
She caught it instantly.
Smart girl.
"Right! I can't stand your brother and sister. They're always forcing you into everything."
That's my girl, I thought.
Because Taylan could never know they weren't really my siblings.
"Nisa, love, we have to go now. I'll tell you everything on the phone, I promise."
I had no idea how I'd explain the scams to her—but it was time. She was the only person I truly trusted. My only confidant.
And I couldn't keep lying to her anymore.
---
As I was about to leave after saying goodbye to Nisa, she called out:
"Taylan, I never trusted you, brother-in-law. Oh, sorry… fake brother-in-law."
Taylan must have found it funny, because he smiled.
"Then let's hope one day you will," he said, and I couldn't help but smile too.
For some reason, I enjoyed the two of them quarreling over me. My best friend, and the man I couldn't quite define…
Sorry—the man I was scamming.
In short, I was an idiot.
I walked up to Taylan and grabbed his arm.
"Why did you come?" I asked.
He put his arm around my shoulders.
"I wanted to see my bride's school—and my bride herself." His tone was mocking, and I knew he was lying.
I pushed his arm off my shoulder.
"You're lying, you bastard," I said.
And he laughed—in that damnably sexy way. God, his smile was too beautiful.
"Baby, we've got plans. My father called. We're having dinner tonight at the farmhouse. They found out we weren't there, so we'll probably get scolded."
As we walked, the path finally came to an end. When we reached the car, he got there before me and opened my door.
What was all this gentlemanly behavior? For a fake marriage, wasn't it a bit too much?
But… no use denying it.
I liked it.
A little.
Actually—maybe more than a little.
---
When we arrived home, dinner was already prepared. We sat at the table, and after just a few bites, the inevitable happened: we were scolded. Well, not me—Taylan, for lying. He wore an indifferent expression, but in the depths of his eyes I caught flickers of unease. He was angry inside, that much was obvious.
After dinner, Mrs. Züleyha offered me coffee. We sat together and chatted idly. As the steam curled from my cup, she asked if I was excited for the days to come. She meant the wedding preparations—and sharing the same room with Taylan.
I wasn't ready. For the first time, I felt unprepared for a con. There was this strange, indescribable unease inside me. I needed to tell Nazlı everything, to prepare myself for these nine days. I also needed to visit the hospital, afraid I might forget things again once this job was over.
There was so much to do that just thinking about it suffocated me.
I finished my coffee, excused myself, and went to my room. Lying on the bed, I opened Scream 6 on my phone. The comfort of the mattress lifted the weight off me; I felt light, like a bird. Normally, I can't sleep anywhere but my own bed, but here… strangely, I felt at peace.
Halfway through the movie, a knock at the door.
"Come in," I said, and the face I had seen a hundred times today appeared—Taylan.
He was in gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt. Simple, yet ridiculously handsome. Even like this, he was magnetic. Too magnetic.
He motioned for me to shift aside. I slid over quietly, and when he stretched out, his feet hung off the bed. I couldn't help but laugh.
"What are you watching?" he asked curiously.
I handed him my phone so he could see.
"Shall we watch together?" he asked. I was stunned. I didn't answer. He must have taken my silence as approval, because he stood up, saying, "I'll grab my laptop. Wait for me."
It was surreal. I had never watched a movie with anyone but Nazlı. And now—my fake husband. The man I was supposed to con.
But just as he was about to leave, all the lights went out. The room plunged into darkness. Taylan reflexively shut the door and hurried back to me.
"Quick, turn on the flashlight," he said.
I couldn't believe it. This big man… afraid of the dark?
He sat on the bed, and I could hear his heartbeat pounding from his chest. When I placed my hand there, he flinched. "Calm down," I whispered. Then suddenly, his arms wrapped around me.
Was this a joke? A dream? The mighty Taylan Parskan, holding me, his hands trembling?
"It's okay, Taylan. The flashlight's on," I said. The glow lit my face, and as he looked at me, he exhaled in relief.
We sat cross-legged across from each other, faces illuminated by the pale light. I asked, "Are you afraid of the dark?"
Without looking away, he muttered, "Isn't it obvious, Liya? And you still ask."
The idiot… but he looked so sweet, like a little boy. He leaned closer, as if trying to study my face. "You're even prettier up close, Liya," he said.
My lips curved without permission. His eyes dropped to them.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked.
He pulled me onto his lap. "Because you're beautiful to watch," he whispered. My cheeks burned crimson.
"You're cute when you blush, Liya," he added.
I gathered myself, smirking. "Guess today it's your turn to be brave."
He chuckled.
"When you laugh, you're like a little boy, Taylan."
He replied softly, "Aren't our smiles all that's left of our childhood, Liya?"
Then his voice grew more serious:
"I don't think my childhood hides in my smile. There's a moment, Liya. And when you laugh, you're in that moment. But that's only true for some. Most people carry their childhood in their laughter. But for others… it's a moment. For me—it's a moment."
"And what moment is that?" I asked, intrigued.
"Maybe one day you'll find out," he answered.
I tried to get off his lap. He didn't resist, just pulled his hands away. Silence filled the room—until my phone buzzed. I picked it up, read the message, and froze.
"He's in really bad shape right now… and he wants you."
---
I am alone. I have always been alone. But realizing it is a loneliness of its own; once you notice it, the emptiness grows larger. Rooms, streets, the laughter of crowds—none of it belongs to me. My hands are always empty, my eyes always heavy with tears. I wait. I don't even know for what: maybe a voice, maybe a touch, maybe simply the meaning of being. But every time, it all dissolves into the air, drifts away, and I remain here—listening to the echo of my own screams inside the void.
My heart beats. Yet each beat feels foreign to me. Sometimes I wonder: Am I even real? There's nothing for my hands to hold, because I can't even hold myself. People laugh, talk, embrace each other… I just watch, as if trapped inside a glass sphere of life—unable to touch, unable to move, yet forced to see everything spin before my eyes.
Sometimes I think… maybe I don't even belong to my own shadow. Inside me, there's a small child—lost, forgotten. Whispering, See me. But even to hear that voice, breathing isn't enough. I drown within myself, estranged from my own existence.
And still, I don't want this loneliness. I don't—but I've grown used to it. Inside me lies a dark lake; the more I sink into it, the deeper it gets. Every struggle, every scream, vanishes like a stone dropped in water. People connect, but I stand apart—disconnected, forgotten.
I wait. For what, I don't know. Maybe one day someone will come. Or maybe I'll only see my own reflection. But waiting—that's the only thing I know now. Waiting, I crumble. Waiting, I'm reborn.
But always alone.
Always alone.