CHAPTER 30

DERIN

The next morning, sunlight filtered through the curtains, waking me earlier than usual. I rubbed my eyes and stretched, the events of the previous night still weighing on me. After getting ready, I decided to check on Alara and Fria.

As I approached their room, I noticed the door was slightly ajar. I peeked in and saw them both asleep on the bed, Alara's arm protectively draped over Fria. They looked peaceful, their faces free of the tension from the night before.

With a quiet sigh of relief, I headed downstairs. My mood soured the moment I spotted Evren sitting at the dining table, taking a cup of coffee. He glanced up briefly as I entered, then looked away, his expression unreadable.

I couldn't hold it in any longer. "What did you say to Fria?" I demanded, keeping my voice low but firm.

Evren raised an eyebrow, his tone dismissive. "What are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I mean," I shot back, my voice rising. "Something you said made her leave, made her think a drive in a bad state of mind. She could've—" My voice cracked, but I pushed on. "She could've seriously hurt herself, Evren."

He set his mug down with deliberate calmness. "Derin, why do you always have to dig so deep? Why is it your business?"

"Because it is my business!" I snapped. "I care about her, and you—"

He cut me off sharply. "Did I dig into your life when Jo happened? Did I pry into that? No. So just... fuck off, Derin."

That hit like a slap to the face, raw and unfiltered. My chest tightened, and for a moment, I couldn't find the words. He knew exactly how to twist the knife, and he'd done it without hesitation.

I stared at him, anger boiling under my skin, but I refused to let him see me break. Yet, he had the audacity to keep going.

"And what did you even say to those clients? Seriously, you had one job and managed to screw it up," he said.

"You know what, Fuck yourself and your clients ," I spat.

Without waiting for a response, I grabbed my stuff and stormed out. I made my way to out, anger coursing through me with every step. Evren's words replayed in my mind like a haunting refrain, but I shoved them down, forcing myself to focus on the day ahead.

I drive to the warehouse with high speeds.

The warehouse was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of oil and rust. I pushed open the heavy metal door, the sound echoing through the empty space. The usual crew was already there, moving boxes, cleaning weapons, and doing whatever the hell they did on a day like this. But I was in no mood for small talk or pleasantries.

I threw my bag on a nearby table and lit a cigarette, trying to keep my focus. The guys around me were whispering, but I didn't care. No one dared speak directly to me when I was like this.

"Get to work," I barked, my voice sharp and cold, cutting through the chatter. "And if anyone's got something to say, I don't fucking care."

Everyone went silent, knowing better than to speak out of turn. I didn't have time for games today, not with the anger still simmering beneath my skin.

Not long after, Evren walked in, his usual smug expression plastered on his face. The moment he saw me, he stopped in his tracks, his gaze flickering briefly to the guys around him before locking onto me.

"Got something to say?" I asked, my voice sharp, every word laced with the anger still simmering inside me.

"Same as always," he replied coldly, his tone matching mine. "You're gonna keep acting like a little bitch all day or you gonna get your head straight?"

I turned to face him, my voice low but dripping with venom. "You're not welcome here today, Evren. Keep your mouth shut, or I'll shut it for you."

The tension in the room thickened, the crew waiting for what would happen next. But I didn't care about their eyes on me. I was done with Evren's games.

I could feel the heat rising in my chest again. But I forced myself to stay calm, to hold it together for the sake of business. Evren was my brother, but we didn't always act like it. Blood relations didn't mean much unless you could back it up.

"Listen," I growled, turning to face him, "If you came here to lecture me, you can fuck off. I'm not in the mood."

He stood there for a moment, eyes narrowing. Then, as if he was weighing his next words carefully, he spoke again.

"You know what's at stake here, don't you? We can't afford to be weak, especially not now."

"Spare me the speech," I snapped. "I know what's at stake. I just need some fucking time."

Evren's face softened, just for a second. "I'm not here to argue. I'm here to remind you we're family. Don't let that shit with the clients mess up everything we've built."

I threw my cigarette to the ground, crushing it under my shoe. "Family?" I sneered. "You and me both know that doesn't mean jack shit around here."

For a second, there was silence. The tension was thick, but Evren was still my brother. Even if we didn't always agree, we had each other's backs.

He stepped forward, his eyes hardening again. "Yeah, but in our world, it's the only thing that matters."

I turned to face Evren, my eyes narrowing. The anger that had simmered beneath the surface all day suddenly flared up again, this time with a more personal edge.

"If you ever bring Jo's name into the conversation again," I growled, my voice low and threatening, "I'll beat the fucking shit out of you."

Evren froze, his eyes locking onto mine, and for a brief moment, I could see the flash of understanding behind his gaze. This wasn't just some petty argument or an insult I could let slide. Jo was off-limits. He knew that.

He didn't flinch. Instead, he took a step back, his posture shifting. His gaze softened just slightly, though the usual hardened edge in his voice remained.

"For that, I'm sorry," he said, his voice quieter than usual, almost regretful. "I shouldn't have crossed that line. It won't happen again."

I stood there, staring at him for a beat longer. There was something about the sincerity in his apology that caught me off guard. Maybe he wasn't just the arrogant asshole I always saw him as. Maybe he did understand the gravity of what he'd said.

After a long moment of silence, I nodded once, sharp and decisive. "Good. Let's keep it that way."

Evren didn't speak again. Instead, he just gave a quick nod and turned to leave, his footsteps echoing as he walked away.

I stood there, my fists still clenched, the tension slowly ebbing away. The weight of the day was still heavy on my shoulders, but for the first time in a long while, it felt like maybe we'd gotten past the worst of it.

____

I sat across from another client, trying to keep my focus. This was supposed to be a simple meeting—negotiating terms, making deals, nothing too personal. But the guy sitting in front of me, a sleazy businessman named Adrian, was already testing my patience.

"Man, you know what you need to do?" Adrian said, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin plastered on his face. "You need to hit up some of these clubs, find a couple of girls and fuck a few of them. That's how we do it, right? Just enjoy life, man. What's the point of all this work if you don't get to have some fun?"

I could feel the blood in my veins start to boil. His words were unnecessary, and even cringe-worthy. But I forced myself to swallow the rising anger, keeping my face neutral. I didn't need to cause a scene. Not yet.

I tightened my jaw, forcing myself to keep my composure. My fist was clenched under the table, but I kept my voice calm. "I'm here for business, not for your ridiculous suggestions, so thank you." I said, trying to keep my anger in check.

But then, with the smug look still on his face, he crossed the line.

"Hey, so how's your sister doing?" he asked with a smirk, clearly not realizing the mistake he was making. "Still hanging around? I bet she's as pretty as ever. Maybe I'll hit her up sometime, huh?"

My blood ran cold. The smirk on his face made me want to reach across the table and smash it. My grip on the edge of the chair tightened, and my vision started to blur as the anger that had been simmering for days finally erupted.

Before I could stop myself, I shot to my feet, my hand grabbing the collar of his shirt. I pulled him towards me, snarling through clenched teeth, "You do not talk about my sister, you fucking fuckface asshole. Ever."

Adrian's face went pale as he realized the mistake he'd made, but it was too late. The rage I'd been holding back for days, surged forward like a storm.

I slammed my fist into his face, the crack of bone against flesh satisfying in the midst of my fury. He gasped, his hands flying up to shield himself, but I was relentless. Each punch was fueled by the insult he'd thrown, by the disrespect for my sister.

"You never speak about my sister like that again, you mother fucking bastard" I shouted, landing another blow to his jaw, sending him tumbling backward in his seat.

Adrian tried to push me off, his hands weakly attempting to defend himself, but he was no match for the fury I unleashed. I landed punch after punch, feeling his body go limp under my strength, his smirk replaced by a bloody, panicked expression.

Then, out of nowhere, I felt hands grab me from behind, pulling me away with a force that made me stumble. I turned, struggling, only to see Evren standing there, his expression tense and serious.

"Enough," Evren's voice was low but commanding. He gripped my arms tightly, holding me in place as I struggled against him. "You've made your point. Stop."

I gritted my teeth, still panting with adrenaline, my fists clenched so tightly. "He fucking deserved it," I growled, my chest heaving. I looked down at Adrian, who was barely conscious, his face a bloody mess. "He needed to know who the fuck I am."

Evren didn't let go of me, even as I tried to break free. His grip was unyielding, and I could see the worry in his eyes as he pulled me further back, away from Adrian. "You're not doing yourself any favors, not like this. You can't lose control, not over this."

I wanted Adrian to scream, wanted to tear into Adrian even more, but Evren's words were starting to sink in.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm raging inside me. My heart was still pounding, but I knew Evren was right. I couldn't let this turn into something worse.

Adrian, on the floor, was barely conscious now, his body trembling, eyes wide with terror. I couldn't stop myself from giving him one last glare before turning away.

Evren held me for a moment longer, ensuring I wasn't going to lash out again. "Let's go," he said quietly, but firmly. "We'll handle this... but not like this."

I nodded, my anger still gnawing at me, but I knew I had to walk away. I didn't want to give Adrian the satisfaction of seeing me lose it any further.

Before leaving I kicked him hard in his gut, making him screech.

Evren guided me out of the room, and I couldn't help but glance back once more, the rage still simmering inside me. But I knew, deep down, that Evren was right. There were lines I couldn't cross, even if it felt good in the moment.

Evren didn't say much as we left the building. He could see the storm still raging inside me, but he didn't push me to talk. He just guided me toward his car, and I followed without a word. The drive home was silent, the hum of the engine filling the air between us.

I clenched my fists again, but the tightness in my chest was starting to ease just a little, now that I was out of that damn meeting.

When we finally reached the house, I couldn't hold it in anymore. I threw open the gate and stormed into the living room, kicking a few things out of my way, frustration pouring out in every movement. I cursed loudly, my voice rough with anger and exhaustion, not caring about anything or anyone.

And then I saw Fria. She was sitting on the couch with Alara, both of them talking softly. When she saw me, her eyes widened in shock. The tension in the room hit me like a slap in the face, and for a moment, I felt like I might explode again, but I forced myself to stay calm.

Fria's face softened, but she still looked concerned. "What happened?" she asked, her voice gentle but worried. "You're... you're bruised."

I didn't even realize it until she mentioned it, but I touched my cheek and winced. A dull ache pulsed in the spot where Adrian had landed his punch. But that wasn't what had her worried—when my hand moved away from my cheek, I saw the red, swollen knuckles for the first time.

Alara, sitting next to Fria, saw it too, her eyes immediately going wide with shock.

"Oh my God," Alara muttered under her breath, looking between me and Fria. "What did you do?"

Fria's gaze softened even more, but there was no hiding the concern in her eyes. She stood up, her voice more insistent now. "You need to calm down. What happened to your hands?" she asked, taking a step closer. "What did you do?"

I felt a sharp pang in my chest at the concern in her voice. I didn't want to make her worry, especially not now, when she had enough on her plate already.

But I couldn't lie. The anger, the fight, everything—it was still so fresh. I could feel the heat rising again, but I clenched my jaw and turned my back to them. "I'll handle it. You don't need to worry."

Alara reached out to stop me as I started to move toward the hallway. "Derin, are you mad?" she said, her firm. "What happened? You're hurt."

I didn't know how to answer. I didn't want to talk about the fight with Adrian, or the rage I couldn't seem to control. I didn't want them to see me like this, to see how much I'd been holding in for too long.

I swallowed hard, forcing the words out. "I didn't want to scare you, Fria," I muttered, my voice strained. "Not now, when you're... when you're not doing well."

She took a step forward, her concern only deepening. But I couldn't stay in the living room anymore. I couldn't have this conversation, not like this. So I turned and walked toward my room, my fists still clenched. I felt the weight of their eyes on me, but I didn't stop. I needed space. I needed to calm down before I did something I'd regret.

Fria and Alara didn't follow. I knew they were worried, but I couldn't face them right now—not like this. Not when everything felt so out of control.

I reached my room, slamming the door behind me. I sat on the bed for a moment, staring at my clenched fists, still trembling from the adrenaline. But I couldn't just sit there. I needed to do something to channel this fury that was threatening to tear me apart. I needed to release it.

I stood up abruptly, feeling the tension in my muscles coil tighter with every step. My eyes landed on the punching bag hanging in the corner of the room.

Without a second thought, I walked over to it, my fists still aching, but it didn't matter. I wasn't here to care about the pain.

I slammed my fist into the bag, feeling the impact rattle through my body. It felt good. The way my body moved with the force, the way my anger translated into something tangible. I didn't hold back. I hit harder and harder, each punch a release, a way to drown out the chaos in my head.

Blood began to form on my knuckles as I punched with all the force I could muster, the sting from the open wounds barely registering. I didn't care. I needed this raw, physical release until the burning anger inside me started to ease, even if just for a moment.

Why can't I fucking control my anger? I thought, the question echoing in my mind. Why does it always take over?

It was like a switch would flip in me, and once it was on, there was no turning it off. I hated how easily I lost control, how everything I tried to bury came rushing to the surface at once. I could feel the tension start to drain from my body with every punch, but the question still lingered, unanswered.

The bag swayed violently under my strikes, but eventually, my hands began to feel the weight of the punishment. The pain in my fists started to burn. But it wasn't enough to stop me.

I took a few more swings before finally stepping back, panting heavily, my breath sharp and uneven. My fists were raw, blood still seeping from the cracks in my skin. But the storm inside me had calmed, even if just for now.

I ran my hand through my hair, trying to steady myself. The frustration, the anger, it was always there, always threatening to come out, but this time, I'd managed to tame it, even if just temporarily.

I turned away from the bag and headed toward the bathroom, wanting to wash away the sweat, blood, and anger that still clung to me. The hot water hit my skin like a wave, soothing the tension in my muscles as I stood under the stream, letting it cleanse me physically and mentally.

As the water poured over me, I tried to push everything else out of my mind—the fight, the simmering rage. But it wasn't easy. My mind was a storm of its own, swirling with everything I hadn't dealt with. The image of Fria's worried face flashed in my mind, and I sighed, leaning my hands against the wall.

I couldn't keep doing this. I couldn't keep letting my anger control me, letting it make me lose sight of everything else.

Why can't I control it?

It was something I'd never figured out. Maybe I wasn't meant to.

I turned off the shower, wiped my face with a towel, and looked at myself in the mirror. The bruise on my cheek was already swelling, but it didn't matter. I could hide it. What mattered more was keeping the storm inside me from tearing apart everything I was trying to hold together.

I dressed quickly, forcing myself to calm down before I returned to the living room.

I walked into the living room, expecting to find them there, but the space was empty. I called one of the house help and asked her "where are they?"

"They're in the home theatre," she said with a nod, her tone casual. "Watching something."

I thanked her and made my way down the hall. The sound of muffled laughter and dialogue filtered through the door. I paused for a moment, took a deep breath, and pushed it open.

As I stepped in, the movie froze on the screen. Fria, Alara, and Baris all turned to look at me. Fria's face lit up in an awkward smile, Alara raised a brow, and Baris just leaned back in his seat with an unreadable expression.

"Can I join?" I asked, keeping my voice steady. I needed some distraction and this was the best kind.

Baris didn't say anything at first, but then he grabbed his half-empty beer can and threw it toward me. Without thinking, I caught it mid-air.

"Don't you have manners for your big brother?" I said, arching a brow.

Baris smirked, his tone dripping with mockery. "Alara told me you slapped me yesterday when I was drunk. Real pussy move, man. Slapping me when I was drunk. "

The room erupted into laughter. Even Fria, who usually stayed quiet during moments like this, stifled a giggle. I sighed, shaking my head, but couldn't help the faint smirk tugging at my lips.

I walked over to the recliner next to Fria and sank into it. She glanced at me, her mouth stuffed full of popcorn. She held out the bowl toward me, offering silently.

I shook my head. "I'm good."

When Fria swallowed her popcorn, she leaned forward, her brow furrowing slightly. "How's your hand?" she asked softly, her voice barely audible over the movie's resumed dialogue.

I nodded and gave her a reassuring smile. "It's fine, nothing much," I said, keeping my tone light.

She shrugged and turned her attention back to the screen and I couldn't help noticing her posture relaxed slightly. For now, the storm within me was quiet.