Married To The Dominant King

CHAPTER 4

NORA

The limousine glided through the city like a silent beast, cutting past ancient domes and modern skyscrapers with elegant indifference. Istanbul at night was breathtaking—a perfect blend of East and West, tradition and opulence. Still, I couldn’t shake the chill that ran down my spine. That woman at the airport… her eyes had pierced through me like a knife. It wasn’t curiosity in her gaze. It was something darker. Intentional.

I leaned against the plush leather of the seat, eyes scanning the city lights, pretending not to notice how Burak kept checking the rearview mirror like a man trained to anticipate threats. Emma, on the other hand, was in awe—practically pressed against the window, her excitement as animated as ever.

“This is insane,” she whispered, her breath fogging the glass. “This place looks like something out of a fairytale.”

I gave a small smile, though my stomach was in knots. “Fairytales usually have a dark twist, don’t they?”

Burak didn’t respond, but I caught a flicker of tension on his face.

We pulled up to a towering structure gleaming with golden lights and polished stone. The Royal Maran Hotel—the number one hotel in Turkey, known globally for its exclusivity, clientele, and the fact that it was part-owned by the royal family. Even from a distance, it exuded wealth and secrecy. The doormen bowed as the limo stopped beneath a canopied entrance. They wore white gloves and immaculate uniforms. I could practically feel their eyes trying to place me—trying to understand who I was to deserve this treatment.

Burak was the first to step out, eyes scanning the perimeter before he offered me a hand. “We’re here, Miss Aslan.”

Emma squealed beside me, grabbing her bag. “Did you see the gold-plated freaking statues at the front? This hotel makes five-stars look like motels.”

I stepped out, my heels clicking softly against the marble floor beneath the entrance awning. The air smelled faintly of roses and sandalwood. A liveried hotel manager approached instantly, bowing slightly at the waist. His accent was thick but refined.

“Welcome, Miss Aslan. Your royal suite is ready. We hope you find everything to your satisfaction. His Excellency personally ensured your comfort.”

My royal suit? I almost stopped breathing.

I paused. His Excellency. That could only mean one person—my father.

“I didn’t realize he held such a title,” I said quietly, more to myself.

Burak shot me a side glance, his brow arching slightly. It was the kind of look that said, Are you serious right now? But when he caught the unwavering expression on my face, the disbelief in his eyes softened. He gave a small nod, acknowledging that I wasn’t joking.

“Your father,” he began, his voice steady but laced with something that almost resembled awe, “is the second most powerful man in all of Yildiz—right after King Emir himself.”

He paused for a beat, letting the weight of his words settle.

“He’s older than the king by quite a few years, but King Emir treats him like more than just an advisor. He trusts him like family—like a brother. When the king isn’t around, your father’s word becomes the law. No one questions it. No one dares.”

I stared at him, stunned into silence. My lips parted, but no words came out. The name hit me like a thunderclap, echoing through my chest and rattling something deep inside me.

The king’s name.

It couldn’t be. Not him. Not the same name that haunted my dreams, whispered to me in sleep like a memory I couldn’t place. My pulse quickened.

It has to be a coincidence… right?

Beside me, Emma let out a soft gasp. “Huh…” she murmured, clearly just as shaken. Her brows were drawn together, confusion dancing in her eyes. She looked at me, but I couldn’t meet her gaze.

I was too busy trying to slow my racing heart.

Sure, I’d always known my father was rich—there were hints in the way he carried himself, the expensive tailoring of his suits, the subtle respect people gave him everywhere we went. And I knew he worked for the royals. That part wasn’t a secret.

But I didn’t know… this.

I didn’t know he was this influential.

Whenever we were together, he spoke of his duties as if they were nothing more than errands. He always made time for me, always downplayed the importance of his work. I thought it was just a job.

But now, hearing the king’s name… everything felt different.

Suddenly, my father was a stranger.

And the world I thought I knew? Cracking at the edges.

The manager continued, gesturing gracefully. “Please follow me. Your luggage has already been sent ahead.”

The lobby was a gallery of decadence. Crystal chandeliers as wide as dining tables hung overhead, casting a golden glow on the marble floor veined with silver. Intricate Ottoman designs adorned the walls, and fresh lilies stood in tall glass vases along every corridor. It was as though every inch of this place was curated for royalty.

Emma nudged me, her whisper reverent. “I feel like I should be wearing a gown and tiara.”

The elevator ride to the top floor was silent except for the soft classical music playing in the background. I caught my reflection in the mirrored walls—wide-eyed, tired, anxious. I didn’t look like someone ready to step into a world of secrets and old power.

When the doors opened, we were greeted by yet another uniformed attendant, who guided us down a private hallway ending at a set of double doors made from dark wood and brushed gold handles. He keyed in a code on a digital pad, and the doors swung open silently.

What lay beyond took my breath away.

The Palace Suite wasn’t just a suite—it was an entire apartment in the sky. A vaulted ceiling with hand-painted motifs towered above us, while floor-to-ceiling windows gave a panoramic view of the Bosphorus, shimmering under the moonlight. Ornate furniture, velvet drapes, a fireplace, and an actual baby grand piano—it was all too much.

Emma dropped her bag on the velvet chaise lounge and twirled around, laughing. “We’re not guests here. We’re freaking queens.”

Burak remained at the door, arms crossed. “Security will be posted outside your suite around the clock. You are not to leave the hotel without informing me. Understood?”

I blinked. “Is that really necessary?”

His jaw tightened. “Yes. Your father insisted.”

There it was again. My father. My mysterious, evasive, now evidently powerful father.

I nodded slowly. “Understood.”

Burak gave a curt bow and stepped out, the doors closing behind him with a muted click. The moment he was gone, Emma dove onto the massive bed with a dramatic sigh.

“Girl, I swear I’m not leaving this room unless it’s for breakfast in a rooftop garden or a spa appointment. This is the most royal thing I’ve ever experienced.”

I walked toward the windows, drawn by the view. The lights of the city twinkled like stars spilled across the land. Somewhere in that maze of beauty, my father was waiting. And so were the answers.

I couldn’t help the shiver that ran down my spine again. That woman at the airport… her presence still lingered in my mind like smoke. Was I being paranoid? Or was my gut telling me something I couldn’t yet understand?

A knock at the door broke my thoughts.

Emma raised a brow. “We just got here. Who the hell is that?”

I moved cautiously, checking the peephole first.

A hotel staff member stood outside with a tray in hand and a discreet smile. I opened the door slightly.

“Compliments from His Excellency,” he said politely, presenting a crystal carafe of pomegranate juice, an assortment of baklava, and a handwritten note on creamy, embossed paper.

I took it slowly, heart skipping.

Welcome home, Nora. I’ll come to you tomorrow. For now, rest. You’re safe. – Baba

My eyes blurred as I read the words. The weight of everything—the confusion, the fear, the mystery—all pressed in on me. But for the first time since I landed, something about that note settled the storm inside me.

He said I was safe.

Even if I didn’t understand what he was protecting me from… I wanted to believe him.

But as I looked out the window again, something told me this was only the beginning.