Standing in front of the huge house, Iskender Bardakçı couldn't get rid of the feeling something was wrong. An inexplicable feeling that everything was about to go as badly as it could.

Hazım's house was a white building with multiple arched windows and doors, all framed with decorative brown trim. A marble staircase with intricately carved balustrades led to the entrance, where a couple of men dressed in black stood, unmoving. The driveway led to a parking lot, but the seven black cars remained in front of the house. After all, it would be hard to drag a body from the entrance all the way to the parking lot.

Between all those people dressed in black, Iskender stood up in his grey suit with a black vest and shirt which had the first couple of buttons undone. Tall and broad in shoulders, he had thick black hair that was styled with precision and a neatly trimmed beard.

Checking his phone, Iskender wanted to swear. Why was it taking them so long? Two hours had passed. Given that the last meeting had been two weeks ago, Iskender couldn't understand what they had to talk about that took so long.

He paced back and forth, walking alongside his car, waiting. The logical part of him said that he should stay put, that he shouldn't give those people a reason to suspect him or his brother. But Iskender could almost see Vedat coming down those stairs with two men carrying a body in a bag. He could imagine that bag being placed at his feet, a single confirmation that his brother was dead.

"Don't be stupid," Iskender muttered to himself. He had no reason to belive his brother might get hurt. After all, Yasin was known as someone who would never betray anyone.

Meryem had called six times, and Iskender couldn't blame his sister-in-law. She was worried for Yasin, as they all were. All of them, except Yasin's children, who were too young, knew what that meeting was about. Meryem was calling to find out what had happened to Yasin, but Iskender couldn't answer as he had nothing to tell her. He couldn't lie and say everything would be fine when he himself didn't believe it.

A blue car entered the driveway, and Iskender moved closer to the car, although there was enough space. He had seen the way some drove, and he'd much rather his end come by a gunshot than an idiot driver. The car drove past them, stopping in front of the entrance, and the driver rushed to open the door for the ones inside. As soon as the people got down, the car moved towards the parking lot, revealing the last person Iskender was in the mood of seeing.

"Bulent," Iskender said, "everyone is here but you. Or have you finally realised that your small mind can't comprehend what we're doing here?"

On second thought, insulting Hazım's son was not the best idea Iskender ever had, but he hadn't managed to stop himself.

Turning around, Bulent walked up to Iskender, probably trying to look intimidating. However, that was hard given that Bulent was a head shorter than Iskender. The woman behind Bulent, whom Iskender had not seen at first, threw them a glance over her shoulder, not moving from the place where she stood.

"Iskender, I don't know who you think-"

"Bulent," the woman called, stopping Hazım's son before he could finish his threat. "Getting into a fight in front of Father's home is beneath you."

Iskender opened his mouth to say something about what was and what wasn't beneath Bulent, but he was stopped when the front door opened. A man in his late forties, with black hair full of grey streaks, descended the stairs, followed by two men who carried a body bag.

Iskender's whole body tensed, and he saw Ömür, Hazım's daughter, pulling her brother aside, while Vedat kept walking. A tightness coiled up in his chest, and Iskender waited without moving, clenching his fists. As Vedat moved closer and closer to him, Iskender couldn't shake away the feeling that something very bad was about to happen.

Vedat stood at the base of the staircase, as he'd done every time before. Iskender hated that man as much as he hated his boss. He hated the way Vedat knew exactly who had died, who would go home with a body that night. And he hated how the man had made it into a game.

Only when the two men passes Iskender, heading towards the car next to his, did he allow himself to relax. It hadn't been Yasin, but Halis. Vedat walked up to Selim, the brother of the man who had just died, and then placed his hand on his shoulder.

"They will put your brother in the car," Vedat said. "Mr. Hazım is waiting tomorrow for you."

Without saying a word, Selim simply nodded, his gaze lowered as the two men put his father's body in the car. Looking away from Selim, Iskender's gaze locked with a pair of blue eyes framed by long dark lashes. He didn't know what he had done to deserve to be under the scrutiny of Ömür's gaze, but it couldn't be anything good.

Six other men exited the house, and Iskender immediately searched for his brother. As soon as he saw Yasin, he was hit by a wave of relief.

The two brothers didn't spoke as Yasin moved to get inside the car, Iskender taking the driver's seat and starting the engine. Only after they left the driveway, did Yasin speak.

"Are you insane, Iskender? You looked at Vedat as if you were going to kill him!"

"I'm sorry, abi," Iskender said in a voice that made it clear that he wasn't sorry at all. Moving his gaze to look at his brother, his hands clenched the wheel while his foot pressed harder on the gas pedal. "Should I serve him a cup of coffee while I'm waiting for him to place your body at my feet?"

Every single time they went there, Iskender was reminded of their older brother. Hazım had never acknowledged that he ordered the death of Yusuf, but their whole family suspected him. Iskender had reasons to fear for his brother's safety. Even a whisper of betrayal was enough for Hazım to decide whether to kill or not kill someone. Despite Yasin's reputation, Hazım trusted none and wouldn't even spare his own son.

"Slow down, son," Yasin said. "Hazım won't kill me, but you will!"

Iskender did as he was told. He had, most likely, gone over the speed limit of the area.

"Or worse," Yasin said. "The police will catch us. Tell me, are the guns you have here registered?"

"Of course," Iskender said.

He wasn't stupid enough to go around with unregistered guns. There were two in the car, one in his name, the other in his brother's. If the police stopped them for anything, Iskender didn't want to get into more trouble.

"What did they say?" Iskender asked after a few moments of silence.

Halis had been killed. There had to have been some sort of reason behind that. Hazım didn't kill the ones at his table for nothing. However, Halis had never been bright enough for treason. He wasn't the kind of man who would risk everything he had by making Hazım angry. The only way to do that would be to work with Hazım's enemies, and the man had none at that point. All rivals were dead, the rest decided that working for him was the better option.

"It wasn't about any kind of treason," Yasin said. "Well, not something that would have made Hazım kill him."

"Hazım would kill for even a rumour," Iskender said.

"No, he wouldn't," Yasin argued. "He might have, once, but he's wiser now. Halis' transport was missing ten. He took it for himself, but Hazım hadn't wanted to kill him. He would have punished him another way, but Halis crossed the limit."

"With what?"

If stealing from Hazım wasn't enough to cross that limit, then Iskender didn't know what else could be.

"He brought Tufan into all of that," Yasin answered. "Halis said that there was a blood feud between their families. He then proposed to end it by having Selim and Hazım's daughter get married. As you can imagine, Hazım didn't like that idea."

And Halis saying that there was a blood feud between them made Hazım even more suspicious. He had lost his trust in Halis, and that was a death sentence. Everyone knew how things went. There was no such thing as a blood feud in Hazım's circle because that meant they were all equal, and Hazım preferred the idea that he was above everyone else.

"So, what will we do next, abi?" Iskender asked, throwing a look to his brother.

Yasin didn't answer for a moment, looking out the window. At forty-seven, his brown hair was starting to show grey strands, but Yasin kept his dignified look, with his clean shaven face and suits. It was hard to tell they were siblings, as Yasin had taken everything from their father, and Iskender had inherited his mother's looks.

"For now, we'll stay put," Yasin answered. "We make the weapons Hazım sells. He needs us."

And that was something else Hazım hated. Needing someone.

"Abi, I wasn't talking about that," Iskender said, throwing another look to his brother. "Alpaslan is back."

"I forgot about that," Yasin muttered, sighing.

"Songül says he's better, but..." Iskender trailed off, as both of them knew what had happened and in what state it had brought their nephew.

Alpaslan was right to be angry. He was right to want revenge. His fiancée had been murdered right next to him. He blamed himself. But he also blamed Hazım and Bulent. No one truly knew how much of the fault lay in them, but Iskender didn't doubt they had had something to do with Lale's death. She had rejected Bulent in favour of Alpaslan, and that had hurt Hazım's son's pride. If it was enough for him to order the death of a woman who hadn't done anything to him but reject him, Iskender couldn't be sure, but he also couldn't put it behind Bulent.

"We'll keep him in check," Yasin answered eventually. "We can't let that escalate things."

Semra's death had been made to look like an accident. Hazım had made sure the police wouldn't search for too many clues, and the matter had been closed. But not for Alpaslan. Iskender didn't know if it would ever be.

After around thirty minutes of driving, their house came into view, and Iskender stopped the car in front of the gate, waiting for the men posted there to open it. He then drove to the parking lot, putting the car in the only free space.

The house was surrounded by greenery and a neatly trimmed lawn. Painted in reddish-brown tones, it had a steep and intricate roof, with multiple chimneys, that covered even the porch on the lower levels. The main entrance was arched with a large wooden door, facing the row of parked cars.

Getting down from the car, Iskender followed his brother inside, entering a hall that led to the living room, the kitchen and a wooden staircase. As soon as they entered, Iskender couldn't get rid of the feeling that he did not belong there, despite being raised in that house. The property was Mrs Gülten's, and Iskender was the son of the woman her husband had cheated with.

"I've called a thousand times," Meryem, Yasin's wife said, coming from the living room. "Do both of you have phones just for the sake of having them?"

"Meryem," Mrs. Gülten said, coming after her daughter-in-law. "They've just returned. Let them breathe a little!"

"Gülten anne, they're worse than children!" Meryem argued. "Ökan and Nihan answer all the time when they're not in class, but two grown men aren't capable of doing it!"

"Okay, Meryem," Yasin said, raising his voice. "Next time I'm in a meeting, I'll excuse myself saying that my wife is calling."

"Lower your voice. The children are asleep."

"Iskender," Mrs. Gülten said, "son, let them argue in the hall. Come in the living room and tell me what happened."

Iskender followed the older woman in the living room, descending a couple of stairs. Two sofas stood, one mustard-yellow, the other black, facing each other with a glass coffee table on where an ornate vase was placed. On Iskender's right, in front of the table stood two white armchairs with golden patterns, while on his left were another two and a small white sofa, with a coffee table placed near them. The room was illuminated by a chandelier and lamps placed on small tables behind the sofas.

On the black sofa, with a cup of coffee in front of him, sat Alpaslan. Iskender's nephew looked better than he had the last time he had been home. His black hair was styled back, and he no longer had dark circles under his brown eyes. He was dressed casual, in a pair of black jeans, a white t-shirt and a blue jacket.

"Isn't it too late for coffee?" Iskender asked, seating next to his nephew while his brother and sister-in-law entered.

"Given that I don't intend to stay here, it's not," Alpaslan answered, and a wave of relief hit Iskender as he noticed the amusement from his nephew's eyes.

"Good choice."

Abi - ah-bee - older brother
Anne - ahn-neh - mother