Chapter 1: Introduction
The sun had set hours ago, but this city would never give in to darkness. Fairy lights dangled gaily from every branch of ancient trees that lined the cobblestone paths. They spilled from quaint little houses huddled together on the hillsides like whispers of colorful dreams. Istanbul was the masterpiece of the brave new world where the Orient and the Occident met in an endless tango of the exotic and familiar.
Burcu sat on the terrace of a historic hotel, nursing a martini under the watchful lights of a crescent moon.
The city had wrapped its magic around her like a silken scarf, heady and intoxicating. But the evening's promise held a sharp sting, a reminder of the bitter fruit that had tarnished the incandescent glow of her marriage.
"He's adorable, isn't he?" The voice was without trace or inflection, and it seemed to come not from the woman who had seated herself beside Burcu but from the shifting shadows themselves.
"He's charming, isn't he?" she said in a voice that could only be described as sinful. It was smooth as silk sheets and with the suavity of the finest champagne.
Burcu smiled grimly. "He's my husband," she said. "I may be wrong, but I don't think he comes with complimentary cock."
The stranger laughed, her eyes sparkling like white diamonds in the moonlight. " Well, perhaps I can help with that," she said, her voice dropping to a husky whisper.
The sultry words wrapped around Burcu like a lover's caress, raising goosebumps on her skin and sending a shiver down her spine.
Burcu turned, eager to chide the woman but instead found herself unable to do anything but gaze into her mesmerizing eyes. There was a power behind that gaze that held Burcu captive. "Chris and I are here for some privacy; he's waiting for me actually," Burcu said, her voice shaking slightly. The woman was a temptation, and Burcu was surprised to find how easily she could succumb to it.
"Come with me," the woman said with a wink, and Burcu felt herself rising from her chair like a puppet with undone strings.
As they made their way to the woman's room, Burcu's heart pounded in her ears like a drum squad in a brass-knuckle fight. She'd never cheated before, never felt the need to. But now, as she followed this mysterious beauty like a moth to a flame, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
As they reached the room, the woman slipped a card into the lock, opened the door and pushed Burcu gently inside.
The room was a decadent haven of plush carpets, silk sheets, and opulent furnishings, with floor-to-ceiling windows revealing the twinkling lights of the city below. A polished mahogany bed stood as the room's centerpiece, draped in red satin.
And there, standing with his back toward them was a man.
Tall. Muscular. Black.
Jamal.