The Woman with the Scar (Costa Family)

The only thing was, the inside?

It wasn’t the middle-of-a-renovation mess I’d been expecting.

No.

If anything, it sort of seemed like an office of sorts.

A command center.

With desks and tables and many, many TV screens.

TV screens that were showing a live feed of my apartment.

From all the cameras Brio had already told me about.

Minus the tissue box and the ugly lion.

But that wasn’t all.

Oh, no.

There was feed from every single office in the restaurants.

Offices that belonged to Eren.

My gaze slid away from the screens, feeling like my mind was reeling as I let myself look across the tables, seeing boxes and boxes full of paperwork and cash.

Feeling pieces coming together of a more horrific puzzle than I could have realized, my head whipped in the direction of the remaining Polat brothers.

“You didn’t think Eren was the mastermind of the business, did you?” Berat asked, scoffing. “That fucking idiot. Taking a woman as payment. And not even bothering to protect his assets from her,” he said, as Deniz dragged a completely uncooperative Alara into the room and slammed her down onto a chair.

I could see the pain flash across her eyes, but she didn’t make a single noise. She wouldn’t give them that satisfaction.

“We had to keep an eye on you two,” Berat said, waving toward the cameras, making a sick feeling spread through my belly, working its way up my throat.

Eren hadn’t put in the cameras to watch me when he wasn’t around.

Berat and Deniz had put them into place to watch the both of us.

Oh, God.

Oh, God.

That was so much freaking worse.

“Funnily enough, if you had just been a little more patient, all of this would have been over,” Berat prattled on. “Eren was going to have a diabetic incident resulting in his death. You were going to happily sign over all the papers, then go on with your life. But no. You had to get impatient. And greedy. So here we are.”

“Now we just need the Ma, and we are all set,” Deniz said, making both Alara and I seek each other’s faces.

“What?” Berat asked when the pawnshop owner made some sort of noise.

“It’s just… she was a nice lady. An older lady,” he added, making my stomach twist.

One look at Alara confirmed my worries.

Mom had been in that apartment after all.

“What? What are you talking about? Where is the mom?” Berat barked.

“She’s tied up real good. But I couldn’t hurt her, man. She used to come into my shop crying each time she had to hock something.”

“I don’t give a fuck how hard it was for you,” Berat hissed. “You had a job to do. Go the fuck back there and get the old bitch. We need to handle this one and for all.”

Once and for all.

That didn’t leave much up to interpretation, did it?

“Deniz, go with him. He’s proved himself completely fucking inept,” he added.

So that was exactly what they did.

But not before securing both my sister and me to metal chairs in the middle of the room.

Alara’s gaze slid to me, livid and defiant, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever been more proud of her.

It was easy to give into fear in this situation. It was more difficult to hold onto your rightful anger. But anger would get you places that fear never would.

Unable to say anything, all I could give her was what I hoped was a approving nod.

Both of our gazes slid toward the monitors in unison when there was movement there.

Beneath my duct tape, my lips tried to curve into a smile as I saw Brio burst into my apartment, taking in the knife and the bloody clothes and dishrag, clearly trying to work through what it all meant.

But I could see him coming to no conclusions as he paced around the kitchen, a wild animal unsure where to direct his ferocious anger.

His gaze slid suddenly to the door, and my own had to find a different monitor to see who he was talking to.

Not someone I recognized, but judging by his good looks and the way he was dressed, I figured he was another member of the Costa Family.

Then, not long after, Brio was running. Like whatever the guy had said had unlocked something in his mind. Hopefully something about my mother and sister.

Judging by both of our locations, there was a chance he could get to my mom before Deniz and the pawnshop guy did.

Then, if life had any fairness left in it, maybe he could catch Deniz and the other guy and get them to talk.

Preferably before Berat caught on and killed me and my sister.

Craning my head over my shoulder, I caught sight of Berat shuffling through some of his papers, looking for something.

Knowing him, likely something for me to sign over the businesses over to him with.

Which, yeah, fat chance.