01| The Lurking Snakes.

Quenten Yilmaz:

“They are here, Quenten.” My babaanne (grandmother) hisses through the phone, and a wave of tension washes over me, instantly putting me on high alert. “Those snakes have been lurking in our city, unleashing their venom for almost seven years right under our noses. They have been amusing themselves and bringing shame to our name all this time. I’m sending you their location right now. Go and make them pay for the pain they have forced us to endure all these years.” The line suddenly goes dead, and the blood in my veins turns to ice as my grip tightens around my phone.

‘Those snakes have been lurking in our city, unleashing their venom for almost seven years…’

The words echo in my mind, a haunting alarm, as I raise my hand, directing my men to follow me swiftly toward the exit of my jewellery store. The twin glass doors swing open, and I suddenly freeze as I collide with something, or rather, someone.

I lower my gaze to the brunette beauty staring up at me with wide, innocent green eyes, and an uncontrollable snarl departs my lips. She holds my attention far longer than I like, causing the world to slow down around us, and my heart flutters in response.

She moistens her lips, sweeping the tip of her tongue over the bow of her upper lip, evidently trying to build up the courage to say something, and before she can utter a single word, I hold my hand up. She closes her mouth with her brows furrowing and drags her friend with her as she silently steps to the side, never breaking eye contact with me.

It’s funny because eye contact is the language that no one can speak, but chemistry is fluent with; it’s the language of fate. It’s two souls igniting without a single word being uttered—just an undeniable look of wonderment lingering between us.

I blink first, breaking the connection, and push past the two women as my fingers aggressively comb through my slick hair. I slide into the back of the middle SUV parked against the curb.

Desiring her will only result in catastrophe, and I will become the antagonist in her life, destroying her completely and infusing her heart with my poison.

My phone dings.

I welcome the distraction from my dangerously wandering thoughts and open the message my babaanne has sent me, and immediately, rage licks my flesh. It feels like a thousand hot needles are stabbing me as my hands begin to tremble slightly.

This is the moment I have been waiting for since I was nine years old. All the blood, sweat, and tears I put into my training before ascending to my rightful status as the head of the elite Turkish families was for this moment.

To get my vengeance that is rightfully owed to me.

“Drive to this address.” I hand my phone to Leo, sitting in the front passenger seat.

He briefly shows Niko before returning my phone, and the SUV pulls out into the mid-morning traffic. The other two SUVs parked in front and behind us trail close behind. Within twenty minutes, we arrived at our destination. Niko brings the SUV to a halt in front of a rundown house that barely looks safe to live in. It seems like the Kincaid family has lost everything after Julian assassinated my parents.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen, and I hope it fucking hurt like a bitch. I guess that's what happens when you take out a Turkish mafya leader.

I curl forward, pulling my gun out from inside my ankle holster, checking that it is fully loaded, and flicking the safety off.

Leo opens my door, and as I step out of the vehicle, I try to roll the tension clinging to my muscles out of my shoulders but find my actions to be wasted. I tilt my head towards the sky and say a silent prayer with the sunlight caressing my face. When I reopen my eyes, I allow my rage to consume me, pushing the fence open and storming up the front stairs with six of my men hot on my heels.

I don't bother to knock on the door; instead, I kick it open, splitting the fragile frame and knocking out a few rusty hinges.

A piercing scream echoes in my ears as I step into my enemy's house. With my jaw clenched and teeth grinding against the maddening noise, I lift my gun and step into the living room, confronting the man who has brought chaos into my life and his oğul (son), the target of my vengeance.

“Quenten Yilmaz,” Julian Kincaid stammers with glassy eyes filled with shock.

I point my gun at his head, giving him the death stare before I shift my hand so his only oğul, Nate, is now forced to stare down the barrel of my gold-plated weapon that was gifted to me by my babaanne.

A weapon forged from despair, vengeance, and bloodlust. It is specifically intended for the blood of a Kincaid male.

The first oğul (son), to be exact.

“No!” Carmen Kincaid bellows as she steps in front of her oğul and rests her forehead against the end of my weapon. “You can not have my only boy,” she screams hysterically.

Lifting my chin, I stare at her with pure disgust. “You have some nerve, trying to save the oğul of the man who murdered my parents and crippled my abi (older brother). This is the price you must pay,” I say through gritted teeth, resting my finger on the trigger. “And I have come to collect what is owed to me.”

Julian lowers himself onto his knees before me, bowing his head in a state of pure desperation. “My son is innocent. Take my life and use my blood to pay for my sins and dues that are owed to you and your family.” He begs as he slowly lifts his head to meet my gaze again. “Please, have mercy, Mr. Yilmaz.”

“Mercy?” I spat out the word with a menacing chuckle while tightening my grip on my gun. “Did you show my family any mercy when you pulled the trigger three times, you Kincaid-scum? Did you show mercy when you killed my anne (mother) before killing my baba (father) and crippling my abi? (older brother?)” Enraged-fuelled tears prick my eyes, and I desperately reel in the last ounce of composure I possess as I blink profusely to clear my blurring vision.

“No…” Carmen whispers, unwilling to accept the fate they sealed upon their oğul’s life. “I won’t let you take my only son. You can’t have him. Anything else but him. I beg of you.”

My gaze shifts to Nate, and I’m met with eyes filled with emptiness, confusion, and a loss of hope lining his brown irises. I almost feel sorry for the son-of-a-bitch, but I don’t because that would make me weak, and I don’t have the luxury of displaying such a notion.

Julian is right.

Nate is innocent, and by our law, he must pay with his blood for our loss.

It’s a relentless cycle that will eternally stain our existence and that of our descendants, as this ongoing vendetta between us shows no signs of resolution. It will, regrettably, intensify with each passing generation until there are no more Yilmaz or Kincaid lives left to lose.

My eyes trail around the room, stopping when I notice an old family portrait of the Kincaid family hanging crookedly on the wall in the living room. And to my shock, I see they have two kizlari (daughters).

Something our intel failed to inform us.

 Carmen follows my gaze. “You can have one of our daughters instead?” She brazenly speaks up, the hope of seduction lacing her voice. “You can stop the blood feud, and we will leave this city forever.”

I snap my head forward, glaring at her as I forcefully press my gun under her chin, and she cowers before me. “Your kiz (daughter) will be nothing but a slave if I marry her. She will not share my bed as my wife. She will never experience what true happiness is, and the Yilmaz and Kincaid bloodlines will never unite and be a joyful family. If she runs, I will return and kill your oğul and both of your kizlari (daughters).” I vow before her in a deathly tone. “Is that a risk you are willing to take? Your kiz (daughter) will be responsible for the lives of your other two children.”

“No,” Julian spits out as he rises to his full height on shaking limbs. “My girls don't know anything about this feud. They are innocent and won’t understand.”

“Then blood will be shed!” I yell at the top of my lungs with a sinister promise linked to my words. “One way or another, this debt will be settled today.”

“Fuck that, mother!” Nate growls, pushing Carmen out of the way. He palms the barrel of my gun and presses his head against the muzzle. “Kill me and end this feud already. You will never get your fucking hands on either of my sisters, you cruel Turkish bastard.” The emptiness that was once burrowed deeply into his irises vanishes and is quickly replaced with a fierce brotherly protectiveness that makes my decision so much easier.

They will all suffer longer this way…

I lower my gun and tuck it into the back of my pants. “You choose which kiz you wish to part with, and my men will bring her to me.” I address Carmen, accepting her heinous offer of trading her kiz for her oğul’s life, before I turn on my heel and exit the house that makes me feel like a filthy traitor.

I ignore the frantic yelling and cries that follow me outside as I settle into the back of the SUV and brush a frustrated hand over my weary face.

My babaanne will no doubt be furious with my final decision. If I want my plan of a truce to succeed, I will need to closely monitor both Emre Amca (uncle) and Ozan.