CHAPTER THREE

IZRA'S POV:

I was in my room when I received a call from Furkan. I smiled and answered happily. "Hey, how are you?"

"Hey, my love, how are you? I missed you so much," he replied.

"I missed you too. I have some good news; I got a job," I said excitedly.

"Really! That's great. Well, I'm proud of you. By the way, I'm coming to Istanbul tomorrow," Furkan announced.

"What? You're coming back, really?" I asked ecstatically.

"Yes, but don't tell anyone. It's a surprise," he said.

"Okay. I'll wait for you," I replied.

"I want my first kiss tomorrow," Furkan said playfully.

"Not before marriage, Furkan," I replied seriously.

"Come on, Izra, in America, it's so common. People even do kissing pranks here," he retorted.

"Let's see after you come back," I said, trying to change the topic.

"Love you, bye," Furkan said.

"Love you too, bye," I replied before hanging up.

I fell asleep happily, looking forward to meeting Furkan the next day. I was counting every minute and second until his arrival.

The next day when I woke up, I got changed and headed to the office. I was excited that it was my first day of work. When I reached the office, I went straight to Sir's office. When I knocked on the door, a voice called out, "Come in." I entered the room, and Mr. Sheikh was working on a file with a man sitting in front of him. However, his back was facing me.

"Good morning sir." I said with a smile. He look at me and smile, "Good morning Izra, please come in, that's my son and that's Izra our new assistant."

He turned to look at me and I was shocked looking at the person in front of me. He was slightly shock at first but soon his shock turned into a smirk.

I was in complete shock. What had just happened? He was my boss's son, and now he's my new boss. The one I had slapped yesterday. I was certain he would never forgive me. As I stood there, I could see a smirk forming on his face, warning me of his intentions. Terrified, I did as he asked, opening the file and began working on it.

An hour later, I finished the report and approached his office, knocking gently. He called out, "Come in." Stepping inside, I nervously placed the file on his desk and mumbled, "Sir, here is the report you asked for." He didn't spare me a single glance as he continued working on his computer. Pointing towards a stack of files, he said in a dismissive tone, "Also, make reports for these and give them to me before you leave."

I glanced at the files, and there were four of them. My eyes darted back to his face, and I hesitantly said, "Sir, all four?" He glared at me, his eyes piercing through me, and sneered, "Is there a problem with that?" Trembling, I shook my head, stammering, "No, Sir, no problem."

Then I mustered the courage to add, "Actually, Sir, I have to leave at 5 o'clock, it's an urgent matter." His expression twisted into a devilish smile, and he said sadistically, "Well, you can leave at 5, sweetheart, but don't bother showing up tomorrow. Four reports, one mistake, and you're fired."

He's such a heartless jerk. I gathered the files and hurriedly left his office. Glancing at the clock, I realized there was no way I could make it home with him still here. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and began immersing myself in my work.

As the clock neared 5 o'clock, everyone else had left the office. It was just him and me. Still engrossed in my tasks like a determined fool, I finished everything by 6 o'clock. Carrying the completed files, I walked back to his office and announced, "Um, Sir, the files are done." He nodded dismissively and said, "Okay, get lost."

How could he be so cruel? I seethed with anger, turned on my heels, and left for home. That man was insufferable, shameless, and utterly clueless about how to treat a woman.

When I arrived home, I was livid, but then I heard a voice that was like music to my ears.

"Yes, I took care of myself there. I may not be smart, but my body is healthy," I heard someone say. I headed inside the room and exclaimed loudly, "Asslam o Alikum!" Everyone turned to look at me, but when our eyes met, there was a sparkle in his eyes. I entered the room, and he stood up, saying, "Walikum Aslam Izra, how are you?"

I nodded and replied, "I am good. How are you, Furkan?" He was about to respond when my aunt interjected, "Brother, you should call him brother."

Furkan glanced at his mother and said, "No, Mom, Furkan is just fine. I am only two years older than her, and the name seems more friendly."

I realized that my aunt was not happy with me being there at the moment, so I quickly said, "I should go change." I headed towards my room, and my sister Shiza hugged me. "Api, did you see? Furkan is here. He is so handsome," she gushed. I smiled and replied, "Yes, I noticed." I went to my cupboard, but just as I was about to change my clothes, my aunt walked into the room.