Chapter 3 The Offer

Ayla's hand trembled slightly as she reached for the contract document Lucas had put in front of her. The weight of it, both in terms of its meaning and its physical weight, felt her gut constrict. She was ready to talk, but this was something else entirely.

Lucas sat across from her, his piercing eyes never leaving her face. He watched her closely, like a hawk. Ayla read the paper while they were quiet. She didn't know how long it had been, but it felt like the minutes were dragging on, and each one was heavier than the last.

"You understand the stakes, Ayla," Lucas replied with a smooth, quiet voice. "This deal will keep the business going. But you'll have to give up some of your power in return. "Please sign."

Her heart skipped a beat when her eyes met his. "Sign away my authority?" she said again, her voice full of astonishment. "Do you really think I'm going to give up control like that?"

"I'm offering you a lifeline," Lucas said, moving forward slightly and staring intently. "Your family's business is in danger. You can't afford to be proud right now.

Ayla felt like the walls of the room were closing in on her. This wasn't just a deal for business. It was a test. It wasn't about her family's future; it was about giving up her freedom.

She tightened her jaw and stared at the contract, her mind racing. If she didn't agree, things could go very wrong. But if she did, she'd lose everything she'd worked for.

Lucas's voice pierced through her thoughts, quiet but strong. "Don't get me wrong, Ayla. This is the only way to go. "Take what you can and leave," I said.

Ayla's breath stopped in her throat. She had to make a choice. She held the future of all she had accomplished, including her family's legacy, in her hands. But how much was she willing to give up?

Ayla took up the pen, and the room seemed stuffy. The decision's weight was too much for her to handle. Lucas didn't say anything else; he just stared at her with a steady, calculating look. She could feel his eyes on her, watching her every move. The coolness of the contract under her fingers seemed to make her doubt herself.

"You know," Lucas said in a quiet, almost casual voice, "I've seen people break down under pressure." But not you. "Ayla, you're still standing."

Ayla's grasp on the pen got tighter, and her head was racing with feelings. "What do you want from me, Lucas?" She didn't back down, even though her voice broke.

He lifted an eyebrow and smiled a little. "What I want is easy. You need to know that this is necessary. You're too emotionally involved with your company's past to understand how close it is to falling apart.

"I know what I'm doing," she said angrily, her heart racing. "I'm not a weak little kid you can boss about. You can't just buy my family's business and expect me to do what you say.

Lucas didn't move. "You are a smart lady, Ayla." But even the smartest people don't always see the big picture.

She gritted her teeth and pushed the contract away. "You want me to give up everything. All the labor I've done. "My pride, my power..."

Lucas interrupted, saying, "I'm asking you to save your family." His voice was steady, but there was an underlying intensity in it. "Not for me, Ayla." But for your future. And theirs.

Ayla sank back in her chair, confused. She was angry inside, but her intuition told her that accepting the deal might be the only way to save the family's business.

She took the pen.

But then she looked at something on his desk: a picture in a frame made of polished wood. The picture was of an elderly man with sharp features that looked like Lucas's. Her heart skipped a beat.

Ayla sat quietly for a time and looked at the picture on Lucas's desk. It wasn't just any picture. The man in it was older, but he looked a lot like Lucas. The way the jawline, eyes, and mouth were situated was all too familiar. But there was something else. She had a feeling that something was bothering her, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

Her chair made a loud noise when she rose quickly. "Who is this?" She didn't mean for her voice to sound so frigid.

Lucas looked up, but his face was blank. He said, "My father." "Why?"

Ayla's stomach turned. She had seen this man before, or at least someone who looked like him. It wasn't simply how he looked that bothered her; it was the strong, unshakeable impression that he was connected to something worse than she could understand.

She put her palm on her throat as a foggy memory from long ago came back to her. Her dad. She remembered something now: a picture of her father with pain in his eyes and a hint of terror. There was no way to ignore the link.

She looked at Lucas, her heart beating. "Where did your dad come from?" "How is he related to my family?"

Lucas's face darkened for a moment, but he immediately hid it under his customary blank face. "Don't worry about it."

Ayla's heart raced, and her mind raced. "Lucas, tell me what you're hiding."

But he didn't say anything. Instead, he kept his eyes on her. He was keeping something from her. Whatever it was, Ayla knew it was much more dangerous than she could have imagined.

Her fists were tight at her sides. She was no longer merely battling for her family's company. She was battling for the truth.

She couldn't ignore the feeling that things were about to change as she turned to go. And not for the better.

Ayla walked back and forth in her office, holding a file tightly in her hands and thinking about all the questions she had. She had been looking into the company's past for the previous few hours, hoping to find something that might explain the unusual tension between her and Lucas. And then she found it: a name she hadn't heard in years: Marcus Steve.

The name hit her like a blast of lightning. It resonated in her mind, in the stories her father had told her about ancient family business and obligations that had not been paid. As she flipped over the pages in the file, her breath caught. Her dad had told her before that she should never trust a Steve. Those comments had stayed with her, but she didn't know why.

Alya's mind raced as she sat down and opened the folder her adoptive father had left her. Old letters and pictures fell out, showing a past she had been kept from. There was a picture stuck between some papers. It was fuzzy, but you could tell what it was. The same man she had seen in the picture in Lucas's office, the one next to a younger version of her father.

She shook her fingers as she traced the man's face. Lucas's dad. Steve Marcus.

She slumped back in her chair, feeling the weight of what she had found. Her dad had always talked about the Steve family in a strange way, but she had never fully understood what he meant.

Why didn't he tell me sooner? Ayla thought. Did he always know what kind of person Lucas's dad was?

As she pondered the past, the pieces of a puzzle she didn't even know existed started to fit together. Closing the folder made Ayla's heart race. No matter what was going on between her and Lucas, it was connected to something much worse that she wasn't ready to deal with.

Ayla was determined to find out what was going on, so she didn't waste any time. That night, she walked to Lucas's office with heavy steps, full of determination. She knocked once before going in, and her heart raced as she stepped into the clean, modern room.

Lucas was sitting at his desk, going through some files, but as soon as she walked in, he looked up at her. As he sat back in his chair, his eyes fluttered in a way that made it hard to read them.

"Hello, Ayla," he said, his voice silky yet cautious. "Do you need something?"

She didn't spend time on small talk. "I need answers, Lucas."

He frowned. "What's this all about?"

"I know about your father," she added in a voice that was just above a whisper. "Marcus Steve. I want to know exactly what kind of man he is and why he is involved in my family's history.

Lucas stopped moving, and his fingers stopped moving on the papers. He slowly put them down, and his face got darker. For the first time, she glimpsed a flash of something weak beneath his eyes.

"Ayla..." His voice was softer and more serious now. "You don't know what you're asking for."

Ayla moved closer to his desk, her determination growing. "I need to know, Lucas." I need to know why my dad told me to stay away from your family.

Lucas stood up quickly and decisively, his eyes locked on hers. "My father is a hard man to understand, Ayla." And if you think you can just come into my life and start looking into the past, you're wrong.

She wouldn't give up. "I won't leave until you tell me everything. For many years, your father has been a part of my family. Lucas, you're not simply my boss. "We have more in common than you want to admit."

Lucas didn't say anything for a long time. Then, with a slight, almost inaudible sigh, he leaned forward so that his face was near to hers and his breath was warm. Ayla, you don't know the complete story. You wouldn't be asking if you did.

Her heart raced, and the tension in the room grew. She didn't know what to anticipate, but this wasn't it. His remarks made her feel uneasy, like she had just found a gateway to a dark, forgotten past.