Sixty One.

I walk out of the ensuite after taking a quick shower to start the day. Last night I slept in the bed by myself as Aydem and Sedar had some urgent business that they needed to take care of.

Truth be told, I thought he would have been back by now or at least slept in the same bed as me.

Picking up my phone off the bedside table, I swipe my finger across the screen to unlock it and check to see if he at least messaged or called me.

Nothing.

Not a message, missed call, or voicemail notification pops up across my screen and the hairs on the back of my neck stick up.

I gnaw on my inner cheek and I decide to flick him a quick message to be sure that he is okay and nothing major has happened on his first night back on his home soil.

Mila: Just messaging to check that you're okay. I haven't heard from you since you left and I think it's safe to say I'm a tad bit worried.

My thumb hovers over the send icon.

Do I sound needy?

Clingy?

I mean, it's the last thing I want him to think about me especially when I already feel like a burden.

Fuck it.

I push send.

He should at least have the decency to inform me of his plans knowing that I'm here, in a native country waiting for him.

A knock sounds at my bedroom door, "Come in," I call out as I turn to face my early morning guest.

The door slowly opens and in walks Mercedes with a grim look on her face and an Ipad in her hand. Instantly I can sense that something isn't right. Placing my phone back down on the bedside table, I walk up to her as she swallows thickly standing at the end of the bed.

"Somethings happened to Aydem hasn't  it?" My voice breaks as I fight back the tears.

"I think you should sit down before I show you."

"Before you show me?" I repeat with anxiety engulfing me.

"Yes, there are some pictures and they've gone viral." Her voice is soft and full of pity with a look on her face like she's not wanting to be here.

Nausea rises from the pit of my stomach. If they are the photos of Trents' sexual abuse upon me, I think I may just vomit and lose my shit. It wouldn't surprise me if Castello is behind it all trying his best to lure me out.

"They're of Aydem and some woman." She passes me the Ipad and my gaze falls upon the image that fills the entire screen of this beautiful woman that is straddling Aydem with her fucking tits out and her ass on full display.

I read the heading that has been translated into English.

~Turkish Playboy Aydem Burak Has Returned And Picked Up where He Left Off With Elif Yilmaz!~

I suck in a razor-sharp breath, my chest suddenly feels tight like someone is tearing away at the layers of my flesh and has my heart in their grasp, squeezing the damn life out of it.

This woman is naked all over my Aydem. The father of my son, the man that I am meant to be marrying and worse of all. The man that I have fallen hopelessly in love with. My gaze locks on the image of Aydem, so dark and beautiful dressed in all white. It's him.

I wish it wasn't and though I try to find a flaw in the man with a huge grin on his face that will portray him as an imposter. A fraud, I simply can not. I have grown to know Aydems body. The way he moves, what makes him tick and this man in the snapshot is undoubtedly my fucking Aydem.

The Image in front of me begins to blur behind a wall of my tears.

I tap the arrow icon on the touch screen and another image pops up. A deep red booth. Black lavish velvet curtains. Coloured laser lights cast colourful hues off the walls. A dozen or so top-shelf liquor bottles with shot glasses scattered across the table in front of them. I pass the Ipad back to Mercedes unable to bear the sight of the man I have grown to love so much as this particular image seers into my brain.

A VIP booth!

Just the two of them!

The big-chested, slim-waist woman with long straight black silky hair continues to straddle Aydem. The only difference in this image is that he has his face buried deep inside of her tits. My heart continues to hurt as I suddenly struggle to fill my lungs with air.

So many unanswered questions fill my head.

How could he do this to me?

Why did he bring me to Turkey if he doesn't feel the same way I do?

Is this him paying me back because I kept Sandro from him?

Gods, the list can go on and on.

Mercedes reaches across the bed, resting her hand on my thigh with her other hand resting on her belly. "I wanted to be here with you when you saw these photos." She explains softly. "If there is one thing I know when it comes to the Turkish media. Not everything is as it seems. Never believe what you read."

I use the back of my hand to wipe my nose as tears flow down my face. "That may be true." I sniffle. "But my eyes don't deceive me and those pictures tell a thousand stories. I should have known better." I sob, shaking my head as I stand up from the bed. "I shouldn't have come here. This is a big mistake."

Abruptly, I can feel his presence in the room before I see him.

I look up, our gazes colliding. His eyes are solely focusing on my distraught body and mine on his cheating ass face.

[My love,] "Askim," His strained voice slices through the tension in the air.

"I want to go home," I tell him truthfully.

I'd rather take my chances with Castello ending my life. Rather than dying from a broken heart in a foreign country I truly had no desire to visit in the first place.

His eyes search my face with fear engulfing them, "I need to speak to my intended alone." He has the nerve to demand.

"Ofcourse," Mercedes says as she struggles to get up from the bed and walks out of the room, closing the door behind her.

And I really wish she hadn't.

I'm alone with him and I feel trapped like a caged animal with nowhere to run.

"I can-"

'Explain?" I snap, cutting him off as I shake my head. "What's there to explain?"

I mean shit. The proof of his adultery is plain to see and it was staring me right in the face only seconds ago.