Captive To The Boss’s Lust

Ethan

The creak of the door echoed softly through the storage room as I grabbed the breathless man by the hair and shouted, “Why did you beat your wife!”

The man, in his thirties, trembled in front of me. I signaled to the two men beside me to bring the bucket of water.

“Keep his head underwater until he comes to his senses. And if he doesn’t, then he’ll take his last breath as his lungs fill with water.”

He begged, “Please, sir, I’m begging you, have mercy! I didn’t mean to hurt my wife…” That’s when I pulled the gun from my belt.

“The lawyer is at the courthouse. There’s no lawyer here. Only my authority. For example, how about I put a hole right in the middle of your forehead, Fikri?” I asked.

“It won’t happen again. I swear. I’ll sleep at her doorstep until she forgives me.”

“There’s no such fairy tale! Tomorrow, at the courthouse, you’ll give your wife whatever she asks for and get divorced. If she forgives you afterward, that’s her own stupidity. And if she doesn’t and you dare to bother my client again, I’ll find you wherever you are and drink from that pretty skull of yours. Got it, you worthless bastard?”

Then I gave a signal to my men. “Hit him just like he hit his wife. Only harder.”

Bahri nodded. “Kara Bey, how many bones should we break?” he asked. My men called me Kara Bey. Ethan was my legal name, the one known in official records and social circles. But I also existed in the world outside the law. Not even my mother knew about that life.

“Leave his face clean. Do whatever you want with the rest.”

“I’ll report you! I’ll call the police!”

I frowned and looked at him. “Oh, really, tough guy? Have you ever heard of the Esenler family name? Or the Beyzade name? You know what happens before you even get the chance to explain anything to the police? Someone puts a bullet right in that pretty little head of yours. Try your luck if you want,” I said, holding the phone out to him.

Fikri didn’t take the phone. Instead, he dropped to his knees.

“Forgive me, Ethan Bey. I was a fool. I swear I’d rather break my own hand than raise it again. I swear I won’t even hurt an ant from now on!”

I didn’t forgive him. My men softened him up real good, until he begged like a soaked dog.

I closed the file and wrote my final note for tomorrow’s hearing. Just like that, another woman would be saved from a psychotic husband.

***

The next day, I attended the hearing. Fikri’s face looked clean, but his body was covered in bruises. My men were very particular about following orders.

After the trial ended, I headed straight to my office. Mrs. Melike came along, thanked me one last time, and left. The smile on her face was more than enough for me.

Lately, my days had been packed. On one side, I was dealing with my family’s constant pressure to get married. On the other, I was running from one divorce case to another. Especially the ones involving abuse—I never passed those on to the team. I handled them myself.

The only person who listened to me these days was my cousin, Vedat Beyzade. We’d been close for years. In fact, he’d even helped me out with a few things from the underworld. There was also Arslan, my friend and doctor. He topped every list of womanizing doctors in the city.

After work that evening, Arslan called. I had nothing planned, so I accepted his offer to unwind and headed to the place he mentioned. As we sipped our vodka at the bar, two of his friends joined us. Two young women, dressed far too boldly.

“Ladies, meet lawyer Ethan Esenler. If you ever make the mistake of getting married, he’s the guy who’ll get you out in a single hearing.”

The blonde held out her hand. I took it and brought it to my lips. She looked pleased.

“I’m Zerrin. But instead of calling you to get divorced, what if I called you to make me come?”

The two women burst into loud, suggestive laughter. Arslan smirked behind his drink. I didn’t like their behavior at all.

“Tempting offer, but I’m a bit selective. Anything else I can help you with?” I said.

They were clearly offended. Arslan led them away while I kept sipping my drink. I figured women like that were the reason I never let anyone into my life.

As I sipped, I sat back and started observing the bar. I listened to the cheerful chatter of people around me, letting it wash over me as I tried to shake off the exhaustion of the day.

Arslan came back after escorting the women and sat down beside me with a sharper tone.

“Ethan, you always hide behind excuses. Zerrin was a beautiful woman. Don’t you realize you turned her down for no reason?”

I turned to him seriously. “You know I can’t stand women like Zerrin.”

“Okay, fine. But when was the last time you slept with a woman? And don’t count Hazal—Vedat’s sister. The one your mom wants you to marry. I haven’t seen you with anyone in months. What’s going on? Did your preferences change or something?” he asked mockingly.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m just waiting for the right woman.”

“There’s no such thing as the right woman. Love is complete nonsense. You’re just hiding behind excuses. Drop the act and find someone before your mom wears you down and you end up marrying your cousin.”

I looked at him thoughtfully, torn between his words and my own doubts. It was clear he had a point. Maybe I really did need to go with the flow. I had no intention of marrying Hazal, but how long could I keep resisting my mother?

“Who else could I choose as an alternative to Hazal? It has to be someone so solid that my family won’t be able to say a word. And don’t you dare suggest someone like Zerrin. My family would never accept someone like her, and I wouldn’t either. I need someone who won’t cheat on me.”

Arslan swirled his drink slowly, then his eyes suddenly lit up.

“Let’s play a little game. From what I heard, your last assistant quit. I’m not surprised, obviously. That means you’ll be hiring a new one, right?”

“Yes, that’s true. What’s your point?”

“Instead of choosing your new assistant the usual way, how about picking a girlfriend from among the applicants?”

I listened, only half-serious. Classic Arslan, always the playboy.

“I prefer to keep my personal life separate from my work.”

“At this rate, you’re going to die alone. And even if you wanted someone, who the hell would fall for a cold giant like you? Besides, your assistants quit within a week, so clearly something’s not working.”

My brows furrowed involuntarily. He wasn’t wrong about the assistants. I was strict and had zero tolerance for mistakes. The long work hours made it difficult for most, even with a good salary. Some quit because they couldn’t handle the pressure, and others I fired for being unprofessional. Still, the way Arslan talked annoyed me.

“You’re wrong, Arslan. If I wanted to, I could make any woman fall for me. But I’m looking for something real. If I find someone who fits, I might actually consider marriage.”

“Then perfect, choose your assistant accordingly. If she clicks with you, marry her. If not, fire her. But if your new assistant turns out to be your type, could you charm her and convince her to marry you within a week?”

“Of course I could. I’m one of the top attorneys in the country. You’re underestimating my persuasion skills, Doctor.”

Arslan raised his glass. “Then shall we bet on it? If you haven’t fired the woman by the end of her trial period, you’ll have exactly one week to convince her to marry you.”

“Fine, deal. The loser pays one million dollars.”

“A million-dollar bet? You’re going to lose, Counselor.”

“We’ll see about that, Doctor.”

We shook hands and stood up. I didn’t particularly like this game, but I had one undeniable weakness—I never lost. I was going to win this one too.

Though honestly, I was pretty sure the new assistant would quit before her trial period ended. Which meant this bet might never even come to life.

***