Captured heiress and the Underboss

Alara's POVThe morning sun hit my bedroom window like it always does, bright, warm, and beautiful. But it never touched me. The heavy velvet curtains were pulled just enough to let in light, but never enough to let me see the world outside clearly. I sat up in my large, soft bed and looked around the room. Everything was perfect. Marble floors, silk rugs, furniture that shone like it had never been touched. It was the most beautiful room in the whole mansion. And it felt like a cage.I stood up and walked to the window. My fingers brushed the cold glass. Down below, the gardens stretched out, perfect green grass, flowers that bloomed all year long, fountains that never stopped running. But even from up here, I could see the guards. Two men stood by the gate. Two more walked along the walls. And somewhere, always somewhere close, was Kemal.I pulled on my dress, soft, blue, expensive. It was chosen for me, just like everything else in my life. I ran a brush through my long chestnut ha

Alara POVI sat on my bed for a long time after Elif left. Bait? That was what I was. Not a daughter, not a person. Bait. Something to be dangled in front of an enemy to draw him in.I stood up and walked to the window again. The gardens looked different now, not beautiful, but like a trap. Everything was perfect so that no one would suspect the danger hiding underneath.A knock came at the door. Three soft, slow raps. I knew that knock. It was Kemal.“Come in,” I said.He stepped inside, but he didn’t cross the threshold all the way. He stayed close to the door, like he was afraid to be too close to me. “You need to go out,” he said. “For a walk, In the gardens. Fresh air will do you good.”I looked at him. “Is that an order from my father? Or do you actually think that?”“Your father said you should take some air,” he said. “But I also think about it. Being cooped up in here all day… it isn’t right.”I grabbed my shawl and walked past him into the hall. “Fine. Let’s go, but don’t pr

Alara’s POVLeyla pulled me into the house and up the stairs, her grip on my wrist never loosening for even a second. She dragged me into my bedroom and pushed me inside. I stumbled and fell onto the floor. When I looked up, she was locking the door behind her.“You will stay here until it is time,” she said, standing between me and the only exit. “Do not try to break the window. The glass is too thick. Do not try to hide. We know every corner of this room.”“Why?” I asked, scrambling backward until my back hit the bed. “Why are you doing this? I never did anything to you!”Leyla walked slowly toward me. She looked down at me, not with anger, but with something worse; pity, cold, cruel pity. “It is not personal, Alara. It is necessary. There are debts that must be paid. And you… you are the payment.”“Debts?” I said. “What debts?”“Debts from before you were born,” she said. “A war that started long before you took your first breath. Your father and I… we are just finishing what was s

Alara’s POVThe world broke into sharp, jagged pieces of noise and dust.Bullets ripped through the heavy oak furniture, shredding the thick leather bindings of old books, sending a storm of burning white paper floating through the smoky air. Kaan’s body was a heavy, suffocating weight pressing me down onto the cold floorboards. He covered me completely, his thick coat taking the splinters and glass that rained down on us."Stay low!" he roared over the thunder of the guns.I couldn't scream. My throat was filled with the bitter taste of ash and dry copper. The paper, that piece of faded yellow parchment bearing the name Alara Demirhan, was still crushed inside my fist. My brain refused to accept it. It was a lie. It had to be a cruel trick cooked up by the man holding me down. I lived twenty years as Alara Vardar. I had bled in this house. I had grown up under Hakan Vardar’s cold, watchful eyes.Suddenly, the firing stopped.A heavy, ringing silence washed over the library. The thick

Alara's POVThe final name echoed off the cold, soot-stained stone walls of the ruined study, cutting through the freezing air like a sharp blade."Kemal."The small speaker inside the ancient audio recorder hissed with heavy static. A high, dying whistle trailed off into complete quiet as the battery finally gave out. The small red standby light flickered once, twice, and then went dark forever.I stood frozen in the middle of the room. The air was freezing, thick with the smell of wet earth, ash, and old copper, but my skin felt as if it were burning. My chest tightened so violently that I could not pull a single breath into my lungs. My fingertips, covered in gray dust, trembled against the cold fabric of my dress.I looked down at the iron box resting on the floorboards. Then, slowly, painfully, I turned my head toward the broken archway.Kemal stood near the doorway. He looked huge against the dark shadow of the hallway, a man built like a fortress of solid stone. He wore his dar