Chapter Text
“I want a divorce.”
Fadime’s voice did not tremble.
Not once.
Her gaze did not falter as she stood before him in the wedding gown they had chosen together, the same gown Iso had once imagined lifting from her shoulders with reverence, with laughter, with love.
Now it looked like armour.
“Fa-Fadimem, I-”
“Furtuna!”
Adil’s voice tore through the wedding hall.
Every head turned.
He stood at the centre of the chaos, eyes burning, jaw clenched so tightly Iso thought his teeth might crack.
“You will all pay the price for destroying our lives.”
A silence fell so suddenly it was almost violent.
Iso looked back at Fadime.
Hatred boiled in her eyes.
The same eyes that had once softened whenever he said her name. The same eyes that had looked at him like he was home.
Now they were unrecognisable.
His heart clenched.
No.
No, no, no.
She would not give up on them. Not like this. Not without letting him fight for her. Not without letting him explain.
Fadime kept her gaze locked on his and slowly, deliberately, she lifted her hands to her hair.
One by one, she yanked the beads free.
Each pearl hit the floor like a sentence.
Like a verdict.
Like the sound of their marriage being stripped apart in front of everyone.
“Fadime,” Iso whispered.
She did not blink.
His chest ached so violently he almost reached for it.
He stepped towards her.
He did not know what he intended to do. Beg. Explain. Fall to his knees if he had to.
Anything.
Anything to stop her from leaving him.
A shot rang out.
The sound cracked through the hall.
For a heartbeat, no one moved.
Then heat exploded in Iso’s chest.
He looked down, confused and saw red blooming through his shirt.
When he looked back up, Fadime’s eyes had widened.
The hatred vanished.
Horror took its place.
“Fadimem?” he tried to say.
But his tongue would not obey him.
His knees buckled.
He saw Adil’s shocked face.
He saw Oruç running towards him, shouting his name.
He saw Fadime move.
Or maybe he only wished she had.
Then the world tilted.
And darkness swallowed him whole.
Iso opened his eyes to a white ceiling.
For a moment, he did not understand where he was.
The air smelled of antiseptic. Machines beeped steadily beside him. His chest felt like someone had driven a hot iron through it and left it there.
He tried to sit up.
A hand pushed him gently but firmly back down.
“Don’t,” Oruç said.
Iso turned his head.
His brother sat beside the bed, eyes red, face pale with exhaustion and worry.
“Abi?” Iso’s voice came out rough. “What happened?”
Oruç swallowed hard.
“You got shot.”
The words sank in slowly.
Then everything came rushing back.
The wedding.
The secret.
Adil’s voice.
Fadime in her white gown, looking at him like he had become a stranger.
I want a divorce.
Iso’s eyes darted around the room.
“Fadime?”
Oruç went still.
His mouth opened, then closed.
Iso’s heartbeat began to pound against his ribs.
“Abi.” His voice sharpened. “Did Fadime come?”
Oruç looked at him with sorrow so heavy it made Iso’s stomach twist.
“No,” he said quietly.
The machines continued beeping.
Iso turned his face away.
For the first time since waking, he wished he had not.
The days passed in a blur.
Doctors came and went. Nurses checked his wound. Oruç spoke to him about recovery, about police statements, about the family, about things Iso barely heard.
He tried calling Fadime.
Once.
Twice.
Ten times.
She never answered.
He called Açka.
Nothing.
Every unanswered ring carved something deeper inside him.
Three days after he woke, the hospital room door opened.
The Koçari family lawyer stepped in.
Oruç rose from his chair at once.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded.
The lawyer looked uncomfortable. He clutched a leather folder in both hands, his eyes flicking from Oruç to Iso and back again.
“I apologise for the timing.”
“Then leave,” Oruç snapped.
The lawyer cleared his throat.
“I have the divorce papers for Ismail Bey to sign.”
Ice slid through Iso’s veins.
Oruç stared at him.
“What?”
The lawyer said nothing.
Oruç took one step forward, fury darkening his face.
“Have you lost your mind? My brother nearly died because of a Koçari bullet and you walk in here with divorce papers?”
The lawyer flinched.
“I was instructed-”
“By whom?”
Iso already knew.
His chest tightened.
“Give me the papers.”
Both men turned to him.
Oruç looked horrified.
“Iso.”
“Give me the papers,” Iso repeated.
His voice was low. Flat. Dead.
The lawyer hesitated before walking to the bed and placing the folder in Iso’s lap. Then he handed him a pen.
Iso opened the papers.
Her signature was already there.
Fadime Koçari.
The name blurred for half a second before he forced his vision clear.
“Iso, you don’t have to do this,” Oruç said quickly. “You can talk to her first. Explain everything. She’s angry now, but-”
Iso signed.
Oruç stopped mid-sentence.
The pen scratched across the paper once.
Then again.
Then one last time.
Iso capped the pen and handed it back with the papers.
The lawyer took them silently.
“Thank you, Ismail Bey.”
Iso did not answer.
The door closed behind him.
Oruç stared at Iso like he had lost his mind.
“I thought you loved her.”
Iso leaned his head back against the pillow and closed his eyes.
“I do.”
“Then why the hell did you sign?”
His throat burned.
“Because I won’t trap her in a marriage she clearly doesn’t want.”
“Iso-”
“Yeter, abi.”
Enough.
Silence filled the room.
A moment later, Oruç’s footsteps crossed the floor. The door opened. Closed.
Iso opened his eyes and stared at the white ceiling.
His world had ended quietly.
There was no screaming, no begging.
Only ink on paper.
And her name beside his, cutting them apart.
Four years later
Loughborough
“Iso! You coming to the party tonight?”
Iso turned, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his wrist.
Jack stood by the gym entrance, grinning like he had never known a bad day in his life.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Iso said, flashing him an easy smile.
Jack laughed. “Good man. See you there.”
Iso hoisted his gym bag over his shoulder and gave him a lazy two-finger salute.
Outside, the humid June air slapped him in the face.
“Nothing quite like a heatwave in this country,” he muttered, sliding on his sunglasses.
He threw his bag into the back seat of his car and had just reached for the gear stick when his phone rang.
Abi.
Iso stared at the screen.
Something inside him went still.
Then he answered.
“Abi? Selamün aleyküm.”
“Iso,” Oruç said.
His voice was strained.
Iso’s hand tightened around the phone.
“What happened?”
“I need you back in Trabzon.”
Iso froze, hand hovering above the gear.
The word Trabzon moved through him like a blade.
“What did you say?”
“I need your help. You need to come back.”
Iso let out a humourless laugh.
“No.”
“Iso-”
“No, abi. Whatever this is, handle it.”
“I can’t.”
The admission was quiet.
And that was what made Iso listen.
Oruç Furtuna did not say I can’t.
Not unless something was burning down around him.
“I need your vote on the board,” Oruç continued. “And I need my brother standing beside me.”
Iso closed his eyes for a second.
Behind his eyelids, he saw a wedding hall.
Beads hitting the floor.
Blood on white fabric.
He opened his eyes.
“Won’t a video call work?”
“Not this time.”
“Abi-”
“Please, Iso.”
The word landed heavier than any command could have.
Iso exhaled slowly.
“Tamam. But only for a few days. I have a life here, abi. I can’t just leave.”
“Only a few days,” Oruç promised.
“How soon do you need me there?”
“Yesterday would have been nice.”
Iso rolled his eyes.
“Fine. I’ll catch the next flight.”
Oruç hung up.
Iso threw the phone into the console and gripped the gear stick.
A glint caught his eye.
He looked down at the band on his left ring finger.
Four years.
His jaw tightened.
“This,” he murmured, “is going to be deeply unpleasant.”
Fadime leaned back in her chair, amused.
Oruç Furtuna looked like a man standing at the edge of a cliff, pretending not to see the drop.
Eleni watched him with cold contempt, her fingers folded neatly on the table.
Fadime rarely bothered attending these meetings personally, but today was different.
Today was special.
Today, they would finally tear the last stone from the Furtuna legacy and leave Oruç standing in the ruins.
She glanced at Adil.
Her brother looked equally satisfied.
The lawyer adjusted his glasses and repeated, with the strained patience of a man who had already said the same thing three times, “We must begin the process, Furtuna Bey.”
“Give me a minute,” Oruç bit out, typing furiously on his phone.
Fadime opened her mouth to taunt him.
The meeting room door flew open.
She looked up, already smiling.
Then froze.
Iso Furtuna stood in the doorway.
Tall.
Blond.
Broad-shouldered.
For one unbearable second, he looked exactly as he had four years ago. The same face. The same mouth. The same man she had watched stare at her with love, then confusion, then agony.
The same man she had watched fall.
But no.
This was not the same man.
This Iso walked in like the room belonged to him.
Sunglasses in one hand. Perfectly tailored suit. An easy smile playing on his lips as if he had not just stepped into a room full of ghosts.
“Günaydın,” he called brightly. “Sorry I’m late. Traffic was terrible. Also, I was in England this morning, so personally, I think I’ve done very well.”
No one laughed.
Iso did not seem to mind.
He crossed the room and reached Oruç.
His brother stood too quickly, relief breaking across his face before he could hide it.
Iso grinned, gripped Oruç’s hand and pulled him into a hug.
“Abi,” he said quietly.
Oruç clutched him for half a second too long.
When Iso lifted his left hand to pat his brother’s back, Fadime’s blood turned to ice.
On his ring finger, he wore his wedding band.
Her wedding band.
No.
Their wedding band.
Her breath caught before she could stop it.
Iso released Oruç and turned towards the table.
His gaze swept across the room.
Over the lawyers.
Over Eleni.
Over Adil.
Over Fadime.
No, not over her.
Past her.
As if she were furniture.
As if she were nothing.
Something sharp twisted beneath her ribs.
Iso took the empty chair beside Oruç and sat with effortless calm.
“Well,” he said, placing his sunglasses on the table. “Shall we destroy my family before lunch, or are we saving that for dessert?”
The room went rigid.
Oruç shot him a look.
Iso smiled.
“What? I’m trying to respect everyone’s schedule.”
Adil’s jaw tightened.
“Still making jokes, Ismail?”
Iso finally looked at him.
The smile did not leave his face, but something cold passed behind his eyes.
“Your family still pointing weapons at weddings, abi?”
The silence snapped taut.
Fadime’s fingers curled against the armrest.
Adil leaned forward.
“You should be careful.”
Iso tilted his head.
“Why? Are your family members a better shot now?”
Oruç hissed, “Iso.”
Iso leaned back, raising both hands in surrender.
“Fine. I’ll behave.”
The lawyer cleared his throat, visibly desperate to regain control.
“As stated before, the motion before the board is the removal of Oruç Furtuna as acting chair and the appointment of an interim chair selected by majority vote.”
Oruç’s face hardened.
Fadime watched him closely.
He was cornered.
They all knew it.
The shareholders had been pressured, bribed, threatened, persuaded. Every piece had been moved into place.
All they needed was the vote.
The lawyer began calling names.
One by one, the votes came.
Against Oruç.
Against.
Against.
For.
Against.
For
The balance tipped.
Oruç’s hands curled into fists beneath the table.
Fadime allowed herself the smallest smile.
Then the lawyer looked at Iso.
“Ismail Furtuna.”
Every eye in the room turned to him.
Iso looked mildly surprised.
“Oh, me already?”
No one answered.
He leaned forward, clasped his hands on the table, and glanced around the room as though deciding what to order at a restaurant.
“Difficult choice,” he said. “On the one hand, my brother is stubborn, impossible and has the emotional range of a locked cupboard.”
Oruç slowly turned his head towards him.
Iso continued, “On the other hand, every person trying to remove him looks far too pleased with themselves and I find that personally offensive.”
A few board members shifted uncomfortably.
Fadime’s smile faded.
Iso’s gaze remained on the lawyer.
“My vote is with Oruç Furtuna.”
The lawyer blinked.
The room seemed to inhale.
The lawyer cleared his throat. “Let’s continue.”
And then the next votes came.
For.
For.
For.
Oruç turned and slowly stared at Iso. Iso leaned back with a lazy smile and winked at him.
Fadime’s heart dropped.
Adil slammed a hand on the table.
“This is absurd.”
Iso looked at him pleasantly.
“Actually, I believe it’s called mathematics.”
The lawyer checked the numbers again, face tightening.
“With the vote, the motion fails.”
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then Oruç released a breath so quiet only Iso seemed to hear it.
Iso leaned back, picked up his sunglasses and smiled across the table.
“Well. That was fun. Same time next week?”
Fadime could not stop staring at him.
At the ring.
At the smile.
At the man pretending not to bleed.
The last thing Iso wanted was to be back in this hellhole.
Trabzon.
The Furtuna offices.
A room full of ex-in-laws, enemies, lawyers, traitors and the woman who had once held his heart in her hands before returning it in pieces.
But life, as Iso had learned, rarely cared what a man wanted.
Sometimes, it simply dragged him back to the scene of the crime and expected him to make small talk.
The meeting finally ended with stiff handshakes and thin smiles.
Oruç looked like he had aged ten years and been resurrected in the span of an hour.
Fadime had not said a word to Iso.
Iso had not looked at her. Not properly at least.
He could feel her watching him, though.
He hated that he still knew the weight of her gaze.
One of the older board members, Kemal Bey, clapped his hands together with forced cheer.
“Since everyone is here, we should have lunch together. It has been years since we had both Furtuna brothers at the same table.”
Iso stood at once.
“My apologies, Kemal Bey. I can’t stay.”
“Nonsense,” another member said. “You came all the way from England.”
“Yes and unfortunately England expects me back with all my limbs and most of my sanity.”
A few people gave uncertain laughs.
Oruç frowned. “Iso.”
Iso avoided his brother’s eyes.
“Really, I have somewhere to be.”
Kemal Bey smiled knowingly.
“Surely whatever it is can wait an hour.”
Iso reached for his sunglasses.
“It really can’t.”
Adil scoffed.
“What? Afraid to sit at a table with us?”
Iso’s smile sharpened.
“No, abi. If I survived your family’s hospitality once, I’m sure I could survive lunch.”
Oruç muttered, “Iso, yeter.”
Fadime’s gaze burned into him.
Iso still did not look at her.
Kemal Bey persisted, oblivious or pretending to be.
“Then why rush off?”
Iso slipped his sunglasses into his jacket pocket.
The answer came easily.
“I have to pick up my wife from the airport.”
Deathly silence fell.
Oruç went still beside him.
Adil’s expression emptied.
Eleni’s lips parted slightly.
And Fadime-
Fadime looked like she forgot how to breathe.
For the first time since he had entered the building, Iso looked at her.
Only for a second.
Only long enough to let the word wife settle between them like a blade.
Then he smiled.
Polite, distant and devastating.
“Enjoy lunch,” he said.
And walked out.