Snake;

Snake;
Finally, the game of Desire had ended. All the status holders had gathered in the main hall, watching Arzu with anticipation.

The crowd parted just enough for her to stand in the center. Her chest rose not from pride, but from exhaustion and tension. She had won. First place. A title. A choice. Yet she didn’t feel victorious. She had entered this game to avoid being prey in this filthy, dangerous world. To avoid being the betrayed, abandoned, weak woman once more. But her heart was still racing, every nerve on alert. She felt exposed. Like a prey surrounded by hunters.

She had blocked Işıl from claiming the victory she so desperately craved. She had prevented her from claiming Ateş Yamanoğlu. That alone was satisfying. Arzu now held power. Control. Influence. Tools to protect herself. And beneath it all, an unstoppable curiosity burned. Ateş. The fire from her childhood, the boy she had to leave behind. Where was he now? What had he become? She missed him and feared him at the same time.

In their last encounter in the Red Room, his behavior had reminded her of the old Ateş. But the rumors surrounding him, mafia, assassin fueled her fear. Had she truly won? Or was she walking toward her own end? She would soon find out.

High, shadowed balconies watched over her. The kings, their masks reflecting the dim light, could hardly hide their disappointment. One whispered, “I can’t believe he chose her. Finally, I thought I’d found a strong queen for my kingdom.” Another grumbled, “I don’t understand. Why? Why didn’t he choose me?”

A rare, satisfied smile curved Ateş’s lips. Arzu had made her choice. She had chosen him.

He straightened his suit, a low growl of pleasure escaping his throat. “Don’t ever lay eyes on what’s mine again. If you do, next time I won’t be this gentle. I’ll take those eyes out of your head!” He left the balcony.

He knew the significance of the night. Arzu had earned the right to enter the Red Room. And that meant a queen might step into his kingdom.

From afar, Ateş watched. Waited. Calculated. Then he gestured to Cem. “Bring her to the Red Room.” His gaze was filled with obsession and desire.
Cem nodded. “As you wish, boss.”

Meanwhile, Işıl ground her teeth in the shadows. Arzu had proven herself superior again. She had beaten her. But Işıl was no longer a child. She would not give up. She would not settle. Not tonight.

Işıl moved swiftly, silently. She found the man escorting Arzu to the upper floor in a hidden corner. In a secluded lodge, he was surrounded by three women, lost in pleasure. The curve of one woman’s lips, the lustful worship of another, the wet kisses on the neck of the third.
Işıl stepped in, cleared her throat, and growled, “We need to talk.”

The man, in the middle of indulgence, turned to her. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Calculating. Dangerous. He raised a finger, signaling the women to leave. Then, under Işıl’s watchful eyes, he straightened himself, a sly grin on his face.

“What is it, little viper? Decided to join me tonight?” he said.

Işıl, her eyes burning with ambition, replied, “I can help you get your revenge.” She whispered her plan, telling him about Arzu, the advantage she had gained under Ateş’s control, and the opportunity it presented.

He smiled. “I understand. So… what’s next, little viper?” he murmured through clenched teeth, a wicked grin playing on his lips.

Meanwhile, Arzu followed the man through winding corridors, her hands trembling lightly. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. The Red Room awaited.
Moments later, the man opened the door respectfully. “This way, sir.”

Arzu stepped inside. Her body froze. The door opened into darkness. Heavy. Ominous. The walls were lined with chains and leather straps, instruments that suggested both pleasure and pain. A massive bed draped in red satin dominated the room. A shallow pool reflected the dim, eerie light streaming from the enormous skylight above. This room was worse than the last, sadistic, more dangerous. Fear surged through her.

Ateş paused outside the Red Room. His chest tightened. He felt every pulse of tension, every memory of their last night together rushing back. He gathered himself, then entered.

Arzu knelt in the center, tense, ready. Submission was not natural for her. Control remained hers but for now, she waited. Her eyes never left him.

Ateş closed the distance. His gaze darkened, hungry and possessive. He studied her not like a man observing a woman, but like a predator fixated on its prey.

He reached for her chin, lifting her face. His touch was sharp, commanding. Her lips parted. Just as he was about to claim them, his breath caught. The scent was wrong. Not Arzu’s. Familiar, yet foreign. A trap.

In a sudden motion, he seized the intruder by the throat and tore off the mask. Recognition hit him.

“Işıl!” he growled.

Işıl gasped, struggling to breathe.
“Please… let me go!” she croaked.

“How dare you come here?” Ateş’s voice was low, deadly. “Where is Arzu?”

“She… she left. She didn’t choose you. She went with someone else,” Işıl panted.

Ateş’s jaw clenched. Rage coiled in his chest. He slammed her against the wall, crushing her neck with his hands.

Işıl tried to scratch and pull free, but his grip was unbreakable.

He released her abruptly, throwing her to the floor. “Speak,” he growled.

Coughing, she extended a note to him.

Ateş read it, his eyes dark with fury:
“You took what is mine. Now I take what’s yours. Today, we settle this. Ateş Yamanoğlu”

Işıl saw the devilish rage in his eyes and scrambled on her hands and knees, fleeing toward the door. She quickly stood and ran away.

Ateş slammed his fist into the wall, blood oozing from his knuckles. He remembered. Bora. The old enemy. She had taken Arzu.

“Cem!” he shouted, his voice echoing. Seconds later, Cem appeared.

“What happened, boss?”

“Bora. She took Arzu. Find her. Now.”

Cem’s face showed shock, but he quickly hardened. “Understood, boss!” he said, and vanished.

Ateş’s demonic side had fully emerged. Someone had dared to touch what he valued most…
Games of desire were no longer just a playground for desires. They were a battlefield. And Ateş Yamanoğlu had only one goal: to take back what was his...