Page 54 of Crossing Lines

“Because he’s a snake,” Zeki says. “Always has been and always will be.”

“What do you mean?” I ask in confusion. “He wasn’t always like this.”

“He was.” Zeki spears me with a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry I wasn’t old enough to warn you before you got into business with him.”

“But he was my best friend, like a brother to me…”

“I know…” Zeki places his hand on my shoulder and squeezes, as if in solidarity. As if he feels my pain and hurt over Mert’s betrayal, even if he doesn’t know the full extent to it. I have to tell them both about what really happened with Mert, but I’m terrified about Zeki’s reaction.

Blowing out a long breath, I say, “There’s more to Mert’s betrayal than what I’ve told you…”

“What do you mean?” Zeki asks.

“Mert didn’t try to kick me out of my own company. He blackmailed me.”

“Did you pay him?” Nate asks.

I nod.

“What did he have on you?” Zeki asks.

“It wasn’t what he had on me. It was what he had on you.”

“What?” Zeki asks, shocked. “What did I do?”

“Accidental insider trading. Do you remember hearing about an acquisition at Mustafa’s party? And then you wrote some friends about the hot tip you got before buying some stocks?”

Zeki’s face pales and he swallows hard. “I thought it was okay. They were talking like it was common knowledge…”

“I know. But Mert got ahold of the messages you sent your friends, photos of you at the party with those executives, and your financial records.” I’ll never forget the day, almost a year and a half ago, when he came over to my house for lunch. His cruel smile as he delivered his threats that instantly twisted every memory I’ve ever had of him into something dark and unrecognizable, cutting through the trust we’d built over a lifetime. It wasn’t just the betrayal—it was the revelation of his true nature, the monstrous truth hidden beneath the mask of friendship.

How could I have been so blind? How could someone I calledbrothertry to ruin my real brother? Itstill haunts me, clawing at my nights and shadowing my days, and I fear it always will.

“What the fuck?” Zeki says. “Why didn’t you tell me before now?”

“Because your future was on the line,” I say, my voice sharp as I drag a hand through my hair. “Because if they made an investigation, you’d be charged and thrown intojail. No one would care if you did it by accident.”

The weight of my words hangs between us, and disbelief twists his face. But I can’t bear the thought of him facing the system, of being locked away in a place where justice isn’t always the priority and where the walls hold more secrets than truth. The idea of him trapped and vulnerable in a place where people vanish without a trace isn’t something I’d ever subject him to.

“How much did you pay him?” Nate asks, cutting in.

“Fifty million.”

“Fifty million?!” Zeki exclaims.

“Yes,” I say steadily. “And I would’ve given away every last cent I have to keep you free.”

Zeki’s mouth opens, but nothing comes out. He blinks, stunned, as if the gravity of my words, of the truth, just knocked the air out of him. Doesn’t he understand that I’d do anything for him? How much he means to me?

“Do you think,” Nate says, “that Mert’s messing with you to make you vulnerable before asking for more money?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t put it past him.” After Mert showedme the evidence, I knew I needed to move Mom, Zeki, and me immediately out of Türkiye. That’s when I tapped into every connection I had, pulling strings and calling in favors to seize the chance to buy the Sentinels from Harold. It was an exhausting, grueling process—months that felt like years, filled with sleepless nights where I lay rigid in bed, my mind racing with the relentless fear that Mert would expose the truth, regardless. The crushing weight of uncertainty pressed down on me, becoming my new companion, whispering that I’d gambled everything and might lose no matter what I did.

“I need all the information you have about the incident,” Nate says. “And for you to tell me if there’s anything else you’re keeping from me related to this.”

“There’s nothing else,” I say, “and I only have the bank transfer I made. He has all the evidence.”

“It’s a start,” Nate says. His phone rings and he excuses himself to take it.

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