He pulls back, gazing down at me. "When you play with fire, askim. [my love] You are bound to get burned, scorched or fried. If you ever pull this bok [shit] again. I will bind you to our bed, and you will never be allowed to leave the room again." He growls, and I know he means every word."I know you mean well and I'm sorry," I say as I search his eyes. "But this was the only option we had. I had to use myself as bait."[No.] "Hayir, you didnt." He says coldly and I don't like the sound of his tone."I did." I snap, stepping out of his embrace. "If I didn't see him, Aydem. Who is to say he would not have followed us back to the villa where our son is sleeping and your cousins live with their children?" Placing my hands on my hips, I run the tip of my tongue over my top teeth. "He could have returned and figured out the layout of the villa as well as everyone's schedule," I explain trying to justify my actions.His eyes narrow as he blows air out of his

AYDEMs POV... I watch as my sassy wife exits the barn with a bounce to her step, and her perky ass swaying side to side. Gods!  She has no idea of the internal frustration and hunger I battle with on the inside for her on a daily.  Releasing a sigh that is heavy with animosity, I turn around to look at the work of art she's left behind on Castello's chest. I can't help but scrunch my nose, rubbing a hand over my own chest, as I can presently feel his agony. His head lulls side to side, and I step forward, kicking his leg with the tip of my shoe. "Oh, no you piece of bok! [shit!]. You can not pass out before the party has begun." I sneer, drawing my arm back, I drive it forward and slap him across the face with my open hand.  The beautiful sound of flesh, hitting flesh, sweeps throughout the brightly lit barn. Internally, I grimace at the realisation that it is weirdly more gratifying to listen to, rather than the

TWENTY-ONE YEARS LATER...   "Where is Sandro?"  I turn at the firm sound of my husband's voice, my nerves flutter in my stomach as I bite on my lower lip.  "I believe he's in his room, dear," I state nervously. "Is he ready?" Aydem asks as he flicks out his hand and looks at his expensive gold watch.  "He's still just a kid." "He's the heir to the throne of our family empire, and it's time for him to take his place."  I look past his shoulder, shaking my head at our youngest daughter, Asli as she attempts to enter the living room. "I know. He was born for this and you have spent most of his life preparing him for it... But-" "But, you're his mother, and naturally you can't help but worry about his wellbeing." Aydem crosses the room, devouring the distance between us in no time and pulls me into his comforting arms. Twenty glorious years with this man hasn't diminished the power o