Chapter Two Hundred and Five
The rope creaked as Demir shifted, the chair legs scraping faintly against the concrete floor. His mouth still curved: crooked, and defiant.
"What do you want to know?" he asked, voice steady, almost bored. His gaze dragged lazily over Ahmet, as though he weren't the one bound.
"At least I told you, you're playing with what's mine."
The words hung there.
Ahmet stilled.
For a moment, it wasn't the ropes, or the chains, or even the lie beneath the man's tone that pressed against his chest, it was that word.
Mine.
Something cold slid into his expression.
Asli's face flickered in his mind; her sharp eyes, sharper tongue, the way she stood as no one could ever own her. Not even him. Not anyone.
Certainly not this man.
A quiet breath left Ahmet's nose, but there was no calm in it.
Demir's confidence irritated Ahmet the most. How cocky could he get? To be tied in a chair inside an enemy's Cell and still be claiming something that wasn't his.
