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Fadime sighed as Iso stopped the car outside Oruç’s house.
The engine clicked off. Silence settled between them brief and brittle, like the world was holding its breath.
Iso glanced at her and caught the worry sitting behind her eyes like a storm cloud that refused to move on. He reached across the console, laced his fingers with hers, and squeezed gently.
“Canım karım?”
She turned her head, those big, expressive eyes fixed on him like he was the only thing keeping her from spiralling.
“Kılçık?”
“It will be okay.”
Fadime gave him a look of pure disbelief, the kind that said I love you but you are also delusional.
“How?” Her voice cracked on the first word, then steadied, barely. “Everyone is out for our blood and wants us to divorce. If Eyuphan blasts that cursed recording, your mother might kidnap us and drag us to court herself. Your brother already beat you up and when Abi finds out-” Her voice faltered. She looked away fast, as if the tears might betray her.
Iso lifted their joined hands and kissed her knuckles like it was a vow.
“Shhh Bak…” he murmured. “Look at me.”
She did, reluctantly.
“We said we’d be partners, remember?”
Fadime’s eyes narrowed immediately. She had never liked that word. He could practically see her preparing a speech about how she was not his military buddy.
Iso couldn’t help but smile at the annoyance on her face at the use of the word. She had never liked being called a military buddy. He wondered why wickedly. “That means we deal with everything together. You don’t spiral alone. We’ve dealt with murder attempts, kidnappings, poisonings, and your brother’s moods. We can handle a recording too.”
Her fingers tightened around his.
“And the divorce?” she asked, quieter now. “They’re going to push it. They’ll make it public. They’ll-”
“Ya what divorce?” Iso interrupted, as if the word itself offended him. “Didn’t we agree to erase it from our memory?”
Her mouth twitched despite herself. A reluctant smile tried to form.
Iso brightened like he’d just won a war. “There it is.”
Fadime rolled her eyes, but her expression softened.
“Canım karım,” Iso said, voice dropping, turning serious, “we’ll get through this. I’m not leaving you. They’d have to kill me if they want to separate us.”
Her gaze sharpened. “Don’t say things like that. I’m still not over your poisoning.”
He pretended innocence and kissed her hand again, hiding a smile.
Was he secretly pleased she was still shaken from his poisoning? Absolutely. Sue him.
“Come on,” he said, opening his door. “Let’s go in.”
Fadime nodded once, and they got out. The second she came around the car, Iso gripped her hand like he couldn’t help it, like letting go was no longer an option.
He opened the front door for her.
Laughter drifted from inside the house.
Fadime frowned, glancing at Iso in question.
Iso shrugged, equally confused. He hadn’t known they were having guests.
They took off their coats, changed shoes, and walked toward the living room.
The moment they entered, Fadime’s voice went careful.
“Kaynanam?” she called.
Zarife sat on the sofa with two women.
One was around her age, immaculate and polished. The other, older, composed, expensive, had the air of someone who never waited in lines and never heard the word no.
Iso stepped beside Fadime. At the far end of the room, Oruç stood up too fast, eyes wide with warning.
Iso frowned at him, trying to decipher whatever silent message Oruç was flinging across the room.
Zarife’s face brightened with a smile that had sharp edges.
“Ah!” she exclaimed. “My aslan son is here!”
Iso’s reflexes kicked in, mask on, voice smooth. “Anneciğim.”
Zarife patted the cushion beside her as if inviting him into a trap.
“Zehra,” she said to the older woman, “this is Iso. And Iso, this is Zehra hanım.” Iso nodded politely.
Then Zarife turned to the younger woman, her smile widening like she’d waited years for this.
“And you’re already familiar with her daughter… Ceylan, she tells me.”
Iso’s polite nod started.
Then froze halfway.
Oh.
Oh no.
“Iso,” Ceylan breathed, blinking up at him through thick lashes. “It’s been such a long time.”
Somehow, she managed to make it sound like he’d been cruel for existing in her absence.
From the corner of his eye, Iso saw Oruç shut his eyes and rub his forehead like a man begging Allah for patience.
Iso wanted to throw something at him for not warning him in time.
“What is this?” Fadime demanded, voice sharp, turning between Iso and the girl.
All three women looked at her like she was a stain on a white carpet.
“Fadime-” Iso started.
Zarife cut him off sweetly. “She will be my daughter-in-law, of course. Who else?”
Fadime blinked once. Slowly. Like her brain had to replay the sentence to make sure she’d heard correctly.
Then she looked at Oruç, utterly calm, and said, “Ah. I didn’t know you were looking.”
Zarife’s smile sharpened into something proud.
Iso’s stomach dropped.
Mayday. Mayday.
They needed to abandon this ship right now.
“Oh but of course we are.” Zarife leaned forward, voice dripping with satisfaction. “After all, your marriage with Iso isn’t real, is it? Once your divorce is done, I want a real bride for my son.”
If Zarife had pulled out a grenade and rolled it under the coffee table, the blast would’ve been gentler.
Iso closed his eyes briefly.
Fadime went very, very still.
Oruç muttered under his breath, “Ya sabır…”
“Anne-” Iso began, warning creeping into his voice.
Fadime cut him off, soft and deadly: “What did you just say?”
Zarife sat back, queen of her own chaos. “You heard me.”
Then she added, lightly, like gossip: “Besides… Ceylan and Iso have a past.”
Iso choked. “Astagfirullah-”
He turned to Fadime and said in a placating voice, “Fadime, we went out for coffee once, that was it. Nothing happened.”
“Ula!” Zarife hissed at him. “Why are you explaining yourself to that woman? She is nothing to you.”
Iso’s nostrils flared. He turned fully to his mother, voice low and controlled.
“Anne. She is my wife. And you will treat her with respect.”
Zehra’s eyes narrowed. Ceylan’s mouth tightened.
Iso forced himself to look at them too.
“I don’t know what my mother told you,” he said evenly, “but there will be no divorce. I love my wife.”
Zarife snorted like he’d told a joke. “You might have lost your mind, but she clearly doesn’t love you. You will divorce and marry Ceylan.”
“Anne-”
Fadime laughed.
There was very little humour in the laugh and lots of homicidal maniac.
“Yenge…” Oruç said carefully, sensing disaster the way a seasoned soldier senses incoming artillery.
Fadime stepped forward with that smile still on her face. “I don’t love him, hmm? You’re going to make us divorce?”
Iso moved instantly, placing himself between her and Zarife like a shield.
Ceylan chose that moment to attempt suicide.
“Clearly no one wants you in this house, Kocari,” she snapped.
Iso and Oruç’s eyes met.
We’re damned.
Fadime turned toward Ceylan slowly. Then she asked, very calmly, “Iso… where is my gun?”
Ceylan visibly paled at the flatness in her tone and the promise of death in her eyes.
Iso’s panic flared. He turned, caught Fadime’s hands, and tried to ground her.
“Ah, canım karım,” he murmured. “Sol yanim, look at me. Let’s calm down. This is a misunderstanding.”
He meant it. He did.
And then, because the universe hated him, Ceylan stood up, walked right into their space, and put her hand on Iso’s arm.
“Iso,” she said, with tragic devotion, “you don’t need to put up with a wild, mannerless woman like her.”
Iso’s soul left his body.
Fadime’s gaze dropped to the manicured hand on his arm.
Then lifted to Ceylan’s face.
Then-
Fadime moved.
She grabbed Ceylan by the hair and yanked her away from Iso like she was removing trash from a countertop.
Ceylan screamed. Zehra screamed. Zarife screamed.
Oruç swore.
Fadime twisted the hand behind Ceylan’s back with brutal ease, still holding her hair.
Iso froze for one heartbeat, part shock, part horror, and a hot pulse of that’s my wife.
Then Oruç yelled, “ISO! Stop her before she kills her!”
Iso blinked like the world rebooted. He grabbed Fadime around the waist, hauling her back as Oruç dragged Ceylan away.
“Come back here!” Fadime snarled, trying to lunge again.
Iso did the only smart thing he’d done all day: he lifted her clean off the floor and carried her out of the room before she could commit a felony in front of witnesses.
He didn’t stop until he reached their room, then set her down.
Fadime whirled and started hitting his chest.
“Ow-Fadime-ow-calm down-”
“Where is my gun? Where is it? I’m going to kill that bitch!”
Iso tried very hard to stay solemn.
He failed.
A laugh escaped him.
Fadime stopped mid-swing and stared at him like he’d lost the last shred of sanity.
“Are you laughing at me?”
Iso straightened immediately, face arranged into funeral sorrow. “No. Of course not.”
Her eyes narrowed.
She raised her hand again.
Iso caught both her wrists gently and turned, trapping her against the door with his body.
“Canım karım…”
Fadime glared up at him, breathing hard.
Iso pressed his lips together so he wouldn’t laugh again.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I didn’t know my mother was cooking up… whatever this is. I’ll talk to her.”
Fadime’s voice went venomous. “Oh, you’ll talk to her about Ceylan? To arrange another date with your lover?”
Iso had to physically bite the inside of his cheek.
“She is not my lover. She never was.” He spoke fast, honest. “She basically stalked me and emotionally blackmailed me into taking her out for coffee. I paid, told her I had no interest, and left.”
Fadime blinked.
“There is no one in my life except you,” Iso added, quieter now.
She held his gaze a few more seconds, then her expression cracked, became vulnerable.
She swallowed. “You promise?”
Iso’s throat tightened.
“I promise.” He softened his grip, thumbs stroking her wrists. “There’s only one woman for me in this world. And I’m married to her, even if she likes threatening people with firearms.”
Fadime huffed a laugh through her nose.
“I’m still mad at you,” she muttered.
“Oh?” Iso tilted his head, dangerously amused.
“You shouldn’t have bought her coffee,” she snapped. “Look at that psycho thinking she has a chance with you now.”
Iso raised an eyebrow, waiting.
Fadime frowned. “What?”
Iso said, mild as milk, “At least it was coffee and not sütlaç.”
Fadime’s eyes went wide with outrage.
Then she groaned like she hated herself for understanding.
“Oh, shut up.”
Iso laughed, warm and helpless. He leaned closer.
“Hm… I don’t know,” he murmured, lips a breath away from hers. “I kind of like this jealous side of you.”
Fadime’s eyes dropped to his mouth, heavy-lidded.
“Kılçık,” she whispered, dangerously close. “If I had my gun, she would be dead.”
“Mmm,” Iso breathed, hands tightening lightly on her wrists. “Would you have killed me next?”
“Maybe.”
Iso leaned in. Their lips brushed-
A loud knock made them both jump.
Then Zarife’s voice detonated through the hallway.
“ISO! COME OUT HERE RIGHT NOW!”
Iso groaned and dropped his head onto Fadime’s shoulder like a man defeated by life itself.
Fadime laughed and then hugged him tight as if to say we’ll survive even this.
And Iso, pressed into her warmth, thought grimly:
We will.
Even if he had to fight his mother, his brother, her psychotic ex and every delusional girl named Ceylan in Turkey.