5. Clara
Chapter 5
Clara
I haven’t bluffed this hard in a long time.
Initially, the only thing Emily’s file prompted was despair. There wasn’t anything there. Deniz was, for all intents and purposes, a normal guy. He and his parents immigrated to the States when he was a pre-teen, his father a public librarian and his mother an accountant for local government. They took a few years to find their footing, especially after Asya had a late-in-life baby when her oldest was fourteen. But they found a rhythm in Los Angeles, and besides the very tragic car accident that took Kerem’s life last year, Deniz’s existence seemed simple.
Emily had compiled all the publicly available documentation on ?imsek Security Services’ clientele, probably hoping there was a shady client I could leverage. But apart from the standard immorality of American capitalism, none of the clients were notable.
It took a few examples to notice the trend. But a specific date caught my eye—four years ago, when six European universities became clients of ?imsek in less than six months. But the timing felt familiar, and it took some digging into archived Costa files to figure out why.
We experienced a security breach in our surveillance system at the same time. It was small, and none of the archived files were accessed, but the intrusion had its intended effect—we switched providers. ?imsek wasn’t on our radar, but we contracted with a South Korean company that other families like ours had used.
Everything I dug up from there was circumstantial at best, but I knew I was right. As much as I hate to admit it, Deniz’s mind works like mine. He assesses every possibility, sees the actions and reactions that people will make, and leverages those to his advantage.
If I wasn’t using that knowledge as blackmail fodder, I’d find it attractive.
My last words hang in the air as he stares at me, his mouth slightly open. I try not to move a muscle. I need to see his first reaction to know how to move forward. After a few tense moments, something flashes through his eyes. Relief? That doesn’t make sense. Maybe he’s just happy I’m not feeding him to the investigative wolves.
“You need a husband.” It’s a question framed as a statement, but I hear the defeat in his tone. He’ll give me what I want, because the risk is too high.
“To take over my family’s business, yes. I do,” I sigh, trying to fight off the exhaustion that’s hitting me. I’ve spent the past day trying to figure out how to sell this to Deniz, but I think it's impossible. I’m blackmailing him—he won’t trust me, and I can’t trust him. I’m banking on the hope that we can form some sort of understanding, without me giving away too much at the outset in case he turns on me.
How did Charlie do this? How did he tell Gwen about us without her freaking out, while also getting her to agree to his proposition? Maybe I should have called him and asked for pointers. Maybe Emily was right.
I know monitoring Deniz will be my responsibility for the rest of my life. Even if he somehow thinks his better option is turning me down and facing a multinational investigation, The Syndicate will watch his every move, ensuring he doesn’t reveal anything. It would be so much easier to do so if we were living under the same roof.
“Why me?” he asks, and something in my chest twinges at his deflated tone. I never expected to fall in love. Despite my parents giving me every opportunity to do so, I was always certain that, if I absolutely had to get married, I’d choose someone that made sense for The Syndicate and my lifestyle. But that doesn’t mean Deniz didn’t want something more.
“Wrong place, wrong time, I suppose,” I admit, trying to not let the tiny seed of guilt in my stomach blossom into anything more. Deniz will have a charmed life, and will be protected and promoted by one of the most influential families currently active. I force myself to build up that wall of confidence and plaster on a sinful smile. “Well, for you. Perfect timing for me, really. Plus, there are some benefits.”
“If you think fucking you is a benefit…” he scoffs, unable to even finish the thought. I flinch at the hit my ego takes, but brush off his dismissal.
“Trust me, I think you’d find fucking me to be incredibly beneficial,” I whisper, winking at him. “But I was speaking of financial support, as well as protection for your family.”
“First of all, I have no problem financially supporting myself or my family,” he huffs, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest like he’s shielding himself. “There’s nothing you can provide them that I can’t.”
I ignore his disdain, leveling him with as serious and empathetic look as I can muster.
“You underestimate the kind of security I’m talking about. The people you love will be connected to one of the most influential families currently operating in our field, making them untouchable. ?imsek Security Services will become a global name, garnering clients from all over the world who want to be in the Costa’s good graces. While there will be some expectations of you, the vast majority of your life will remain the same. Your job won’t be touched, and you won’t be expected to participate directly in my family’s work. You’ll essentially be a figurehead, and I’ll ensure you’re properly compensated for the role.”
“Expectations like marriage, like giving up any chance at a future I create.” He sits up a little straighter, frustration making his words tight and low. “What, am I supposed to be grateful you’re going to keep me at arm’s length from the thing that’s changing my entire life?”
My eyebrows shoot up, unable to mask my surprise.
“I’m not a monster,” I say, though the end of the word tilts up like it’s a question. “I don’t expect you to witness the darkness we do every day.” Deniz scoffs again, and I wonder if he’s so shocked he can’t come up with another reaction.
“As you so eloquently mentioned before, we swim in similar seas,” he replies, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m not going to attach my name, my family’s name, to something without understanding it. I’m not going to sit back and let my mother’s safety be dictated by things I have no knowledge of. I won’t be a blind participant in my own life.”
Maybe I should have seen this coming. He’s right. He has seen darker parts of the world through his work, though I doubt he understands the depths of the depravity humans are capable of. He pulls the rest of the pages from inside Emily’s file, thumbing through them while I consider.
If anything has become clear through Emily’s research on Deniz, it’s that he can keep a secret. His cameras likely see things that people would pay a lot of money to have access to, and yet none of his clients have ever had a breach or leak, at least not by ?imsek’s doing. Including my spouse in The Syndicate's work was never really part of the plan, but maybe it would be better for us all. I could learn more about him, and him about me, ensuring a more mutually assured destruction if either was to betray the other. Maybe letting him in a tiny bit would alleviate the guilt I feel about forcing his hand.
“We could compromise,” I reply, my voice a little distant while I consider my options. He stills, but I continue trying to parse out the safest course—the one with the most potential benefit to The Syndicate’s operations. Complete faith in each other is likely out of the question, but maybe if I show him what we do and why we do it, he’d find some sense of loyalty to our operations.
“It will be hard for us to trust one another,” I say, and he mutters something in Arabic under his breath that I don’t completely catch. “But perhaps, if you can prove yourself to me—keep our secrets and honor our mission—I can learn to trust you, too.”
Deniz considers, but eventually nods.
“I assume my options at this point are you, prison, or death.” He doesn’t seem particularly fearful, but calculating, weighing each alternative. “And while I would have preferred a more professional proposition, I suppose you’re the best choice of the three.”
I don’t let my expression reflect the nausea roiling in my gut. Maybe Emily was right. Maybe I should have come to him like any other potential spouse and proposed a business opportunity. But my fear of failure outweighed logic, and there’s no turning back now.
“I’m rarely called the lesser of evils, but I’ll take it as a compliment,” I say, surprising myself with how calm and collected I sound. Despite having gotten exactly what I wanted from this situation, there’s a feeling of unease in my blood that I can’t ignore. Perhaps it’s the knowledge that I could have chosen a more ethical path toward this same outcome, or that my mother might actually kill me if she finds out about this. But something else simmers underneath, and I already know it will keep me from sleeping tonight.
“So what exactly is the family business?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowed as he flips through the pages in front of him distractedly. I swallow hard, knowing there’s no turning back now. Not without killing him, which I really would prefer not to do.
“Have you ever heard of The Syndicate of Fate?”