Chapter 35

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Emma

After Dawood left, my first instinct was to check the elevator, and my disappointment knew no bounds when I found it needed a code to enter. I kicked the elevator door out of frustration. I was stuck in Dawood's penthouse until he gave me the code.

I thought of calling Abi and telling him that Dawood kept me locked up in his house, but my ego wouldn't let me. Dawood was a strong opponent, but I was no less. If he wanted a challenge, I would give him one, but I was going to get the code from him at all costs. He would have given me the code if Mehmet Ordimez or Abi had asked him, but that wouldn't have been my victory.

The more pressing matter at hand was my growling stomach, which made me head back to the kitchen. After the third attempt, I was able to make an edible omelet. I never considered how privileged I was to have people do my work. Though Mom made us clean our rooms and make our breakfast on the weekends, it never bothered me. I was an organized person, and cleaning my room was never a big deal for me.

The thing that I cringed from was cooking, and now I had to do exactly that without any assistance. Dawood told me to do something for him that would make him give me the code. The problem was that I hardly knew Dawood and had no idea about his preferences.

I sat down after breakfast, considering my options. What could I do for Dawood? Should I offer to assist him in any of his trials? But I don't think he deems me worthy enough of it. What else could I do? Offer to sleep with him? Which was precisely what he wanted, but he would have to work for it as he is making me work to continue my studies.

I decided to call Babaanne and take her advice. What I noticed during my stay at Cennet Konak was that he was close to his grandmother. There was a very close bond between them, like a mother and a child. Babaanne received the call after a few rings. 

I said, "Assalam Alaykum," cheerfully.

"Walaykum Salaam," she replied in a loving tone.

I inquired about her health, and she asked me why we returned so early from our honeymoon. I informed her about Dawood's upcoming trial.

"Dawood should be aware that these days will never come back. He is such a workaholic," she sounded displeased by her grandson's actions.

"It's okay; we can go sometime else," I tried to reassure her.

We talked about our trip, and I had to lie to her about spending quality time with Dawood exploring the island. After talking for some time, I came to the topic I wanted to discuss with her.

"I was planning to surprise Dawood with something, but I don't have much idea about his likes and dislikes," I was hoping she wouldn't ask me what I was doing in the days after our marriage if I was not trying to know Dawood.

"Dawood is easy to please; all you need to do is shower your love and pamper him. He loves home-cooked food, especially Turkish and Italian," Babaanne said.

I rolled my eyes at the "easy to please" comment. If only Babaane knew what a pain in the ass her grandson was, Babaanne would have thought twice before she declared him someone who could be pleased easily.

"I will need to cook?" I asked her.

"Well, the route to a man's heart passes through his stomach," she replied, chuckling.

I remember Mom used to say Abi loved her cooking, and she used to cook for him a lot when they met. The problem right now was that I didn't want Dawood to fall in love with me. I just wanted him to give me the damn code to the elevator.

"Can you name any dish that is easy to prepare?" I felt embarrassed, but I didn't have much choice.

"You can start with Italian, lasagna, or any pasta," she said.

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