The Forced Vows

A pain that doesn't kill you, but makes you suffer endlessly.

His words sent a shiver through me, though I didn't quite understand what he was referring to.

He continued in a mysterious tone: "That's why they call him the heart-acher. Karan is a dark, mysterious man-some call him a mobster, others address him with words of high authority."

Taylan's visible irritation didn't escape my notice. He grew increasingly angry, staring at a single spot without blinking. To see what had caught his attention, I slowly turned and looked toward the upper floor, where a crowd had gathered in the VIP section.

Cenk asked: "Isn't that the guy?" Both cousins were locked onto the exact same person.

Overlooking the railing of the balcony-like area, I saw several men. Elfida was looking up as well, trying to figure out which one he was. She asked Taylan: "Which one?"

Without taking his eyes off the spot, Taylan took a heavy sip of his whisky, speaking in a voice laced with rage: "The one in the black shirt. Karan Milan."

Karan Milan.

The moment I heard his name, a familiar sensation swept through my entire body. I must have heard this name before; otherwise, I couldn't make sense of the rush of emotion inside me.

Cenk confirmed: "Yeah, that's him. Karan Milan."

Only one person in the VIP section wore a black shirt. His back was turned to us, and he had dark hair. As I looked at his broad frame, I instinctively grew curious about his face. Narrowing my eyes, I saw him move. He turned forward and rested his hands on the iron railing, bringing us face-to-face. He was listening intently to the man beside him, scanning the crowd while slowly nodding to show he was listening.

In that moment, I saw his eyes. The distance between us wasn't vast. We weren't right next to each other, but I could clearly see the color of his eyes, illuminated by the bright lights.

Captivating hazel eyes.

He had hazel eyes that mesmerized anyone who looked into them.

Taylan said with disgust: "Coward. He's started traveling with bodyguards."

The men beside him clearly didn't look like bodyguards. If they were, I doubted he would be talking and laughing with them so comfortably. Besides, those men seemed quite at ease themselves. It was clear they respected him-there was even a trace of fear in their eyes-but they didn't act like hired security.

My thoughts slipped out before I could stop them: "They don't really look like bodyguards..."

Annoyed by my remark, Taylan snapped: "Do you know better than us, Marin? That man is a total coward."

I bit my lip and shrank back into my seat, yet I couldn't tear my eyes away from Karan Milan: "I was just saying."

Three elegantly dressed, beautiful women entered the VIP area, all three locking their sights on him. One of them stepped forward, leaning against the railing next to him, and began flirting playfully, her eyes gleaming noticeably even from where I sat.

The man they called the heart-acher didn't even turn to look at her. He responded to her persistent talking, but his eyes never met hers-a gesture typical of someone whose heart already belonged to another. Instinctively, my eyes drifted down to his hand, searching for a wedding band on his fingers. There was no ring. Before long, he dismissed the women from his side.

Bothered by Taylan's lingering anger, Elfida asked: "What's the issue between Taylan and him, Cenk?"

Cenk explained: "Taylan's father had a legal dispute with him."

Unable to contain his rage, Taylan added: "My father would have destroyed him if he wasn't a man who thought about the future."

Cenk said with equal hatred: "He was supposed to be sentenced, but whoever was backing him got him out of court scot-free. That's why Taylan holds a grudge-he caused his father a lot of trouble back then."

Clenching his fist, Taylan said: "They're bad men. Not quite mobsters, not quite leaders-just some guy who thinks he's a king because he has money. Karan the heart-acher. If you burned this place down with him inside, you'd be doing humanity a favor."

At that exact moment, time seemed to slow down, and I felt someone's eyes on me.

Looking directly up at the VIP lounge, my eyes locked with his. For a split second, our gazes crossed, and I saw his brow furrow. Those sharp hazel eyes beneath dark eyebrows made me swallow hard.