There's a secret I can't run away from for long. There's a promise I can't break. There's a family I can't leave behind. And a past I can't erase.
There was a time in my life when I thought of living in darkness and never seeing the light. I thought of becoming a villainess. And I did...
From then on, I was willing to walk in the underworld. A realm where committing crimes keeps you alive. But nothing made me happy, free, or loved.
In the end, I was still... alone.
Grieving my broken heart.
The person stopped.
Without a word, someone dressed in a crisp black uniform, no insignias, no name tag, not even the faint glint of a badge, set a plain paper bag at Ahce's feet. The movement was fast, efficient, and rehearsed. In and out in seconds. Before she could even lift her gaze, the stranger had already disappeared into the mall's current of people, vanishing like smoke swallowed by light.
The organization still trains its delivery courier employees like this until now? How amusing.
I hope they've upgraded the equipment this time.
Ahce exhaled softly, her fingers tightening on the cold metal edge of the bench.Same old trick. The organization never needed words or threats anymore. They communicated in gestures, subtle, sharp reminders of who held the reins.
She reached for the paper bag, her instincts screaming for her to leave it where it lay. But her hands, trained long ago to obey habit before fear, moved anyway.
Inside, the contents were arranged. A brand-new phone, its black screen reflecting her shadowed expression. A slim matte laptop, familiar in weight and design. And at the bottom, a black credit card, its embossed rose insignia catching the dim mall light like an unspoken command.
Sometimes I wonder why the founder loved roses.
No note. No message. Only silence. But the message was clear. It was a leash. A promise. A reminder that no matter how far she ran, the organization could still reach her.
They must still strictly abide by the no communication policy...
What a pity.
Ahce closed the bag, resting her palms on her knees. Around her, the mall's soft chaos continued, children laughing, heels clicking, vendors calling, but all of it blurred into static. Once again, her carefully built peace had been pierced by their shadow.
When she finally powered on the phone, the screen bloomed with the familiar red rose insignia. No passcode required. Her profile appeared instantly, updated, cleaned, and complete. The organization had refined every detail of her existence, her documents, her records, her assets, and her movements.
But what froze her was the new addition.
Were they informed of my marriage?
So they still keep tabs on my life...
A section labeled Family Members.
Beneath it, a name she hadn't given them, Richard Jing.
There was a photograph, crisp and recent. His birthdate. Family tree. School records. Even his GPS location, blinking quietly in real time. Every move he made was logged. The coffee shop from that morning, the hospital visit, and the classes he attended.
Somehow, the record shows me that my husband can't cheat behind my back.
Ahce's chest tightened. She should have felt reassured, protected, even. Instead, a heavy nausea coiled deep in her gut. The organization had wrapped its tendrils not just around her life but his too, tracing the outlines of someone she cared about without his consent.
She powered off the phone, the screen folding back into darkness.
She couldn't.
Not yet.
Not while she felt the weight of invisible eyes watching through every frequency, every street corner, every breath she took.
Ahce rose from the bench and left the mall, her steps drawn toward a place that at least pretended to offer choices, a small salon tucked along a quiet street. The cool air inside brushed against her skin, scented with shampoo, dye, and the faint sweetness of hair oil.
"Good afternoon, ma'am," the stylist greeted warmly. "What would you like today?"
Ahce sank into the chair, her reflection staring back with hollow calm. The woman in the mirror didn't look dangerous or trapped. She just looked tired.
"A trim," she said. "Wash out the color and make it black again. And… good curls."
The stylist studied her hair, fingertips brushing through the strands.
"You were born with curly hair, ma'am," she said softly. "Natural. Strong curls."
The words lingered longer than they should have, natural, strong. Things Ahce had spent years straightening, dyeing, hiding. Things the organization had trained her to erase. And now, like everything else she'd buried, those pieces were curling back to the surface.
After the salon, she didn't return to the hotel.
Instead, she drifted through the city like a leaf in a slow current, facial, massage, and dentist. Every place smelled different, lavender oils, mint rinse, sterile gloves, but they blurred into one haze of touch and sound.
She let others scrub and polish her, peeling away layers of fatigue, yet nothing could touch the hollow space behind her ribs. No matter how much they cleaned or pressed, the ache remained.
It didn't matter if she stayed out late. It didn't matter if she didn't go home. The organization would take care of everything. They always had. Once, that certainty had been comfort. Now it felt like a cage made of silk and promises.
As she left the dentist's office, twilight had deepened to bruised violet. Streetlights hummed awake. People passed her, laughing, arguing, alive with the illusion of freedom. Ahce envied them.
She slipped on her sunglasses, walking with no destination. Wherever she went, they would already know. They'd cleared the path before she ever stepped on it.
A flicker of thought crossed her mind.
Did Richard feel it too?
The tightening of unseen threads around his life? The quiet surveillance that whispered, You're not alone, but never free?
And then, abruptly, someone bumped into her.
The impact was huge enough to jolt her out of her reverie. It wasn't accidental, the angle was too deliberate, the weight too centered.
Ahce's body reacted before her mind caught up, muscles coiling, her wrist caught in a firm grip.
She spun, already calculating distance and escape.
And froze.
Why is he here?