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“As you wish, efendim.”
“You two stay,” Cem commanded, narrowing his eyes at the guards standing by the only exit—a barred metal door that looked suspiciously like the bars of a prison cell.
Not saying goodbye to the doctor, Cem marched toward me on the fur-lined bed before tossing the paperwork on my lap. I caught it before it fluttered to the ground and skimmed the Turkish text.
A lot of numbers in neat columns. A lot of duplicate digits and scientific speak before the conclusion that I already knew but choked on anyway: The man tested is the biological father of the child. The probability of paternity in this case is 99.99%.
Well, fuck.
Cem chuckled. “It’s a day of good news. Now that you have evidence that we are, in fact, related, are you willing to see where you came from? To accept that you carry a part of me inside you and are destined to become a man so much greater than what you were prepared to settle for?”
I scrunched up the results and tossed them on the floor. I didn’t even know when he’d taken a sample of DNA from me.
It creeped me out.
Was nothing my own anymore?
“Why was the doctor concerned about lessons?” Ice flowed down my spine. “They’re not just normal sessions where you talk to me and I listen, are they?”
With an almost sad look, Cem sat beside me and clamped his hand on my left thigh. I jerked away and stood up, only to fall back down again thanks to the missing muscle in my calf and the sickly weakness in my body, even now.
“Don’t strain yourself,” he whispered as I panted hard on the furs, my vision fading in and out. “And yes, you’re right. We’ll start easy today, but...there will be some days that will be hard if you don’t show aptitude.”
“What are you going to do to me?” I kept my chin high even as every bone in my body seized.
“I’m going to...for loss of a better word...reprogram you.”
“Reprogram me?” My lips pulled back off my teeth. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means that by the end of our training, you will remember who you truly are. You will forsake what you think you love. You will want different things. Remember different things. I will paint the life you would’ve had if you’d remained mine, and you will understand I do this out of love and care.” He smiled sadly. “We will no longer be strangers but will be exactly what we are: father and son.”
I stood again, swaying a little but able to stay upright. “Let me out. Right now.” My eyes flew around the space. “Where the hell are we anyway?”
He stood and clasped his hands together as if he was a real estate agent showing me a fancy investment. His charcoal suit, dark-grey shirt, and silver tie were a direct contrast to the exposed earth and gritty dust surrounding us. “We are beneath my home in Istanbul. I have many homes strategically placed around Turkey, but this one is my favourite.”
His eyes lit up with fond memories. “I had it built before you were even conceived. While digging the foundations, the workmen found this.” He spun on his heel, opening his arms as if he presented me with a mountain of gold. “A pocket of undiscovered catacombs. A perfect piece of my ancestor’s past.” He snorted. “It was also my first encounter dealing with a government official who wanted to halt building, thanks to my foreman tattling. They tried to revoke the dwelling permit—it was now a place of historical importance, not a piece of rural landscape—but...I didn’t give in without a fight, and my money turned their no into a yes, and these caves were never noted on the title.”
He lowered his arms. “They’ve come in handy over the years.”
The ice was back, along with sleet and suffocating snow. “Handy for what?”
He sighed and lowered his chin. “You’re intelligent, Aslan. I’m sure you can figure it out.”
“Torture.”
“I don’t like using that word. I prefer...methods of persuasion.”
I struggled to swallow. “That’s what you’re going to do? Persuade me?”
He flinched. “Like I told you, this will hurt me more than it will hurt you—”
“I doubt that.”
He marched into me.
I almost fell back down again from his sudden stalk, but he clamped both hands on my shoulders and steadied me.
If I trusted I could remain standing, I would shove him away, but sourness splashed on my tongue, and grey spots danced before my eyes. “Let me go.”
