Chapter 9 MARRIED TO HER DESTINED DEVIL

Her two hands clutched her phone to her chest in fear, terror boldly written across her face. The waves from the seaside added a calming rhythm to the serene environment, yet Ayla remained oblivious. She sat on the bed, visibly unsettled, her entire focus fixed on the door.

Then, like a wild storm, the door burst open.

Deniz dashed in, his fingers unbuttoning his shirt as he approached. Stripping his clothes one after the other before entering his room had been a ritual since childhood.

Ayla's heart sank into the pit of her belly. Her mind swirled, her mouth hung open, her soul trembled in silence

With just his pants on, Deniz entered the bathroom without uttering a single word or sparing her a glance.

She shut her eyes and swallowed hard, listening to the sound of the running water as he showered. Her heart raced, dreading what he might do once he emerged. Her thoughts drifted back to that moment at the Civil Registry, when they signed the marriage certificate. She couldn't forget how the Dogans had thrown her, with reckless abandon, into the arms of this cold, unfeeling man the moment they received the bride price.

Now she understood why they had been so eager to have her replace their daughter. The bride price was enormous-an exquisite villa worth billions of dollars, a masterpiece designed by Yilmaz.

Still lost in thought, she jolted as Deniz stepped out of the bathroom. A white towel clung low to his waist, water dripping from his damp hair down his sculpted torso. Every line of muscle gleamed under the light, powerful and precise.

Ayla found herself drowning in his sophisticated charm. When Deniz walked toward her, her mind screamed resistance, but her body betrayed her. She gave in without a fight as he pushed her down onto the bed, his body pinning her effortlessly, his breath warm against her neck.

"Isn't this what you wanted?" he asked, voice low, his face brushing against hers.

"Deniz, I..."

"Shh..." he hushed her, placing a single finger on her lips, his eyes dark with mockery.

His fingers toyed with the strap of her dress, coaxing her into his spell. She shut her eyes, surrendering to the tension building between them, lifting herself slightly toward him.

Deniz chuckled-cold, cruel-and then pulled away.

"You will never have a taste of me," he said arrogantly, his voice laced with disdain.

Ayla wished the ground would open and swallow her whole. Shame washed over her like a wave. She felt stripped-of her pride, her dignity, her sanity. Her eyes remained tightly shut, her face buried in the pillow.

"Listen," Deniz said flatly as he slipped into his pajamas, "you're only allowed to stay in my room for two weeks. I don't need my old man getting suspicious until he leaves the city. And I hope you're well aware-I don't love you and I never will. Our terms are clear. Once we both get what we want, we go our separate ways."

Ayla nodded in silence, but on remembering that she wasn't living her life- rather Defne's. She gathered the little courage she had left, she turned and spoke with quiet defiance.

"No. I don't want a divorce. We'll continue living together, even after you get what you want."

"Hmph." He pulled out a cigarette and leaned lazily on the ottoman, lighting it with practiced ease. Smoke curled from his lips as he spoke. "Go take a shower."

---

A few minutes later, Ayla stepped out of the bathroom in an oversized white shirt. She climbed into bed quickly, her face lowered in shame, not giving Deniz a chance to look at her.

Deniz continued smoking, unperturbed by her coughing fits caused by the unpleasant smell.

---

The next morning, just as Ayla was drifting in the haze of sleep, the door was thrown open with reckless force. It was Deniz's PA.

The way he barged into the room showed it was routine for him. Not even a knock-not even a pause to consider that Deniz was now a married man.

Though Ayla was wide awake, she kept her eyes shut and pretended to sleep.

"Mr. Deniz, I-"

"Go back and knock," Deniz cut him off sharply, not even looking up. "I'm married."

"Haha... Married? Oh, that's right!" the PA chuckled awkwardly, his senses snapping back into place. "I'm sorry."

"Mr. Deniz, are you getting ready for work?" he asked, glancing around.

"Yeah, I am."

"No, sir, you don't have to," the PA replied, straightening. "You're married."

Deniz arched a brow. "So?"

"Sir, you must not go to work today. You're a public figure, and you just got married yesterday. The media, bloggers... all eyes are on you. You should stay home for your honeymoon."

At the mention of "honeymoon," Deniz threw the shoe he was about to put on straight at him.

"Haha! I'm sorry, sir! But... wouldn't it be nice if you took your wife on a honeymoon?"

"I see you're looking to have your salary docked," Deniz replied coldly.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Deniz," the PA whimpered.

By that point, Ayla was pressed-too pressed to hold it in. She rose quietly from the bed and greeted her husband.

"Oh my! Oh my God!" Mehmet screamed, startled at the sight of Ayla.

Deniz, already used to his PA's frolicking nature, didn't even flinch and continued with what he was doing.

"Good morning, ma'am. I'm sorry-I didn't know someone else was in the room. You know, Mr. Deniz never lets anyone into his room except me," he said proudly. "This is a welcome development-at least he's finally found the second person who matters to him."

"Mehmet! Consider your bonus canceled."

"No, sir! You can't do that to me. I was only trying to tell the truth."

Ayla quietly slipped out and entered the restroom.

Inside, she waited several minutes, hoping Deniz would leave so she could come out unnoticed. But the men kept discussing work-projects, meetings, plans.

She stood there, silently praying they'd be gone before she had to face him again. She wasn't even sure why, but the shame was thick, clinging to her like the steam in the air.

She had done nothing wrong, and yet... she couldn't meet his eyes.