As soon as Omer crossed the threshold of her office, Defne rushed to him and asked:

- Well? Have you talked? Did she listen to you? Believe it?

- Hush, my soul - he smiled and led her by the hand to the sofa. Sitting down on a soft, brown seat, he sat down next to her and hid her palms in his hands. Smiling softly, he asked: - Don't be so nervous. This is bad for the baby. Sinan and Seda are adults. If such a small thing can destroy their feelings, then they are not worth a penny.

- But she listened to you? - repeated her question to Defne

- She listened.

"I don't know this," Omer replied thoughtfully. - It's impossible to regain trust in a couple of minutes. Remember how much you tortured yourself and me with doubts. And how much effort I had to make for you to believe my feelings again.

"We had a different story," Defne lowered her eyes and furrowed her brows. - I don't want anyone to repeat it and suffer the way we do. Especially our friends. I want them to be happy.

Omer hugged her and soothingly stroked her back.

- I want the same. We did everything in our power. Now they must take a step towards each other.

"You're right, my love. She pressed her cheek to his shoulder and closed her eyes. - How good! I will charge myself with energy.

"And I from you," said Omer and also closed his eyes.

It was a moment of bliss, but it was not destined to last for long. Defne's phone rang and reminded both of them that the working day had begun and it was time to get down to business.

"See you," Omer whispered, kissing her forehead.

"See you," Defne promised.

***

- Hello.

Seda, who had been looking pensively out the window for the last fifteen minutes, turned to the voice. Sinan stood in the doorway. He didn't look well. His face was darkened, his eyes sunken. These two days were clearly not easy for him.

"Hi," she replied and gestured to the chair. - Come in, sit down.

He entered the office but was in no hurry to sit down. Putting his hands behind his back, he stopped in the middle of the room and asked:

- How are you?

"Okay," she said. - And you?

"I am not," he answered honestly. - I can't either eat or sleep. I think about you all the time. And you? What do you think about me? Even a little?

There was fear in his voice. Sedа felt sorry for him. And herself. If she cannot trust if she doesn't give him a second chance, wouldn't they lose the most important thing in life?

"I thought," she replied.

- And what did you decide?

Seda shook her head.

- Nothing.

Sinan hung his head.

- I understand.

Seda opened her mouth to answer, but a phone call interrupted her. She looked at the phone and hastily answered the call.

- Mama! - The girl tried very hard to speak calmly, but there was clearly fear in her voice. - What happened? Something with Nisa? - Seda listened to the answer and turned pale before his eyes. Sinan's heart sank into his heels. - Do not cry! Take a taxi and go to the hospital. I'm coming too. And don't you dare get yourself worked up! Do you hear me?!

- What happened? Sinan asked anxiously as she put her hand down with the phone.

- Nisa's temperature rose sharply at school. She was taken to the hospital.

Her eyes filled with tears and her hands trembled. Sinan seemed to wake up. Helping her to put on her cloak and handing her purse, he did not stop for a moment.

- Calm down, darling! High temperatures don't mean anything. It might just be a virus. It is spring now, and they are clinging at every step. Let's go to the hospital. Оn my car. I will drive. You must not drive in this state. And don't you dare get worked up yourself! - He repeated her words and took her hand.

He did not let go of her hand either in the corridor or in the elevator. Even in the car, driving it with one hand, the other he squeezed her slim fingers. And when they ran along the hospital corridor, he also held her hand and mentally gave her his strength. He asked Allah for a miracle. So that everything is fine with Nisa and Seda does not suffer.

Mrs. Maryem was already waiting outside the door of the intensive care unit. Wringing her hands, she walked from corner to corner, and her lips were whispering something. Seeing her daughter, she rushed to her, hugged her, and burst into tears.

"Mommy, calm down," Seda asked. - Don't makeup horrors. Let's wait for what the doctor says.

They had to wait a long time. The nurse explained that Nisa's temperature had been brought down, and now all the necessary tests are being carried out. Sinan stayed there all the time. He encouraged the women, brought coffee, and got at least some information from the nurse on duty. He held Seda's hand and extended his shoulder when her head bowed in fear and despair. He persuaded Mrs. Maryem not to worry in advance. Everything will be fine with Nisa, and bad thoughts harm everyone, and first of all, to her.

At four o'clock, the doctor came out to them. He looked at the women tormented by expectation and fear and, smiling encouragingly, hastened to reassure:

- It's not a relapse. The blood counts are good. The girl caught banal flu. Take her home and soak her vigorously with tea with lemon and honey. I will prescribe antiviral drugs and vitamins. Nisa will be completely healthy in a week.

Delighted that the fever was not caused by a relapse of leukemia, mother and daughter hugged each other and burst into tears of happiness. Sinan hugged them both carefully and gently chided them.

- Enough tears. Otherwise, you will drown the whole hospital. After all, everything is fine. Common flu. We will cure her in no time.

Nisa was taken out of the department in a wheelchair. She looked pale but smiled broadly and cheerfully. Sinan grabbed the handles and rolled the chair toward the exit. Seda and Mrs. Maryem walked on both sides, held Nisa's hands, and joked that the flu was the best disease in the world.

***

Laila was shaking but pretended to be brave. She sat with her legs crossed and boldly looked into the narrowed eyes of the man opposite. He looked exactly the same as in the photo - sleek, expensively dressed, and smug. His wife, frozen like a statue, sat next to her husband and bored Laila with a mocking look.

For the meeting, Hussein Chatay chose a closed booth of one of the expensive, but with a dubious reputation, restaurants. It was rumored in Istanbul that a "gray" audience was gathering there. The rich, who got their millions in a slippery and not always fair work. And the interior of the restaurant itself was flashy, lurid, and resembled something in between an underground casino and a brothel.

"Yeah! Not Lunch and not Mano," thought Laila, looking around.

- I'm listening to you - Chatay reminded of himself and folded his hands on the table. - Don't waste my time.

- I have a sketch of the Sapphire crown set jewelry for the June exhibition in Ankara. The name is Starry Night, - Laila answered clearly speaking the words.

- Can I see it? The man asked.

"The photo is on my phone," she replied. - You will receive the original if we agree.

She opened a photo on her phone and handed it to Hussein Chatay. He looked at it for a long time and then asked:

- How did you get the sketch?

- Defne finished drawing it at home. The e-mail did not work in Sapphire, and Mrs. Laura urgently needed it. Defne sent it to her husband's e-mail in Passionis. At that time, I worked as his assistant. He asked me to take the printed sketch to Sapphire and give it to Mrs. Laura. I followed the order, but I made a copy first.

- What for?

Chatay fixed her with narrowed eyes. She grinned.

"Because I really love money," the metal rang in her voice. - And I hate Defne Iplikci! I want her and her company to go into oblivion in disgrace and pull Passionis with them.

Chatay grinned wryly and drummed his fingers on the table.

- A laudable wish. And what happened when you took the sketch to Sapphire?

- Mrs. Laura was waiting for me in the waiting room. She took it and gave it to Mirai to be entered into the database.

- Mirai?

- Database? - The husband and wife spoke in one voice.

Chatay stopped Hazal with a gesture and asked:

- So the sketch is entered into the database? This is bad.

- But I have the opportunity to remove it from there. And also from the е-mail of Omer and Defne Iplikci. The programmer of Passionis and Sapphire is in love with me and will do whatever I ask.

"And you, it turns out, are a real piece of work," Chatay drawled mockingly. - But you need not remove, but change the date to a later one. Can your programmer do this?

"Without a doubt," Lаila answered confidently.

"You said the name Mirai," Hazal Chatay spoke up. - Who is she?

- Employee of Sapphire. I don't remember the last name.

"Describe her," the woman ordered, and her eyes lit up with anger.

- Short, thin. Black hair and blue eyes. Quite pretty.

Hazal looked at her husband. Her cheek twitched in a nervous tic.

- That's her. I want her name to be involved in the scandal too. So that she again drowned in the mud and no longer scramble out of it.

Chatay grinned wryly, and the nervous tic on Hazal's face stopped. Pleased, she leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest.

The man turned his attention back to Laila.

- What do you want for this sketch?

"One hundred thousand dollars," she said clearly.

- How many? - He laughed. - Girl, are you selling a state secret? Ten thousand dollars.

- Eighty.

- Twenty.

- Sixty-five.

"Twenty-five and not a cent more."

- Thirty and you take me to work in your company.

- And like what? - Chatay laughed.

- Well, of course, not an assistant. A manager with a decent salary, - Laila did not remain in debt.

Chatay shook his head with a semblance of admiration.

- Yeah, you girl are the real deal. I respect that. We have vacated the position of Concept Director. Can you find a common language with journalists?

- No problem! - Laila answered self-confidently.

- Then the job is waiting for you. Get started tomorrow. At nine in the morning, I am waiting for you in the office with the original sketch. By the evening, it should have disappeared from the e-mails of both Iplikci, and in Sapphire's database, it should be with a new date. And, of course, to appear in the Turkish gold database. "Chatay's lips stretched out in a malevolent grin. - And then we will deal with the press and plan how to accuse Sapphire of stealing sketches and destroy their reputation.

- And who will steal the sketch from us? - Hazal asked her husband ironically.

- Your friend Mirai.

The husband and wife threw back their heads in a similar gesture and laughed.

And Laila's chest went cold for some reason. Such insidiousness was worse than her own and from the realization of this fact, it became uncomfortable. This couple is not at all like the noble and honest Iplikci. You need to keep an eye on them and not trust them.

- If the conversation is over, can I go? - Laila turned to the new boss.

"Yes," he said, laughing mockingly. - You still have a lot to do today. Seduce a programmer, buy a pair of decent business suits, and dye your hair.

- My hair? - discouraged asked Laila and touched her hair. - What for?

The mocking smile faded from the man's face, and it took on a predatory expression. He looked at her and muttered through his teeth:

- I hate redheads!

When Laila left, Chatay turned to his wife. Admiring her face cut by the cosmetic surgeon's chisel, he asked:

- Dear, do you still remember that you are the creative director of our company? At least for the sake of decency, show up sometimes at work.

"Oh, my dear." Hazal's lips stretched into a smile that did not touch her eyes. - From tomorrow everything will change. I now have a great interest in my work.

Leaning imposingly on the back of the sofa upholstered in red brocade, Chatay said:

- I always knew that it is better to be your ally than your enemy.

Laila came out of the hairdresser's with dark brown hair. This was her real color and she again became an exact copy of her boring sister. Daddy will definitely be shocked. This circumstance amused her, but there was no time to indulge in stinging ridicule. She was waiting for another performance, the game which will bring her thirty thousand dollars and the position of director in a large company.

Fetching the phone from her purse, she called Zubeyir. Giving her voice a proper sadness, she greeted:

- Hello, my love.

When he heard her words, at first he was speechless, and then he spoke quickly:

- Darling, how are you? Calmed down a bit? I was so worried, I called, but you did not answer!

"I couldn't talk to anyone," Laila cried pitifully. - I was so humiliated and offended! I put so much effort into this work. I tried so hard, and they! Thrown me out like a stray dog.

- Don't cry, my angel! Do not cry! Tell me, how can I help you?

- You can, but this is not for a telephone conversation. Let's meet. Let's take a walk in the park, and you will bring me back to life," Laila suggested in a sugary sweet voice.

- I'm already rushing! Say the address!

Laila dictated the name of the park.

Zubeyir flew on a date as if on wings. Laila loves him and he has the opportunity to help his beloved. He will do whatever she asks and prove his love! And then he will get down on one knee and ask to marry him! How well they will live the three of them. He, Laila, and his mother.

***

The spring evening was warm and quiet. Iplikci decided to dine in the open area of ​​one of the restaurants in Ulus Park. Delicious food, fresh air, beautiful views of the Golden Horn. The evening Istanbul acted as the best antidepressant and took away the tiredness and worries of the past day. They let go of them easily and let joy take the vacant place. Omer was full of jokes and enjoyed his Defne's bursting laughter. She was laughing, and he felt happy.

- Aren't you cold? - He asked when Defne, staring at the evening lights, put her arms around her shoulders.

She gave him a beaming smile and shook her head.

- No. Today is such a warm evening. As if not the middle of March, but April.

"Yes, you're right." Omer's face became serious. - Did you warned that the day after tomorrow you won't go to work?

Defne smiled at him and lightly touched his clenched fist with her fingers. When it relaxed, she turned his palm up and, putting her hand in it, replied:

- Yes. Mr. Kartal and Laura can handle it without me. And I will be with you. All day and evening.

- Thank you, - Omer kissed her hand, and again a smile blossomed on his face. - Let Mr. Kartal get used to coping alone. When the bead is born, you won't be able to visit the office as often as you do now.

- You know, I've been thinking about an idea for a long time.

"Tell me," Omer asked briskly.

- To move to the office that was once Sherie's meeting room. It is big. I can turn part of it into a nursery. And then Emine can be with me in Sapphire while I work.

- Great idea! - Omer sincerely supported her and thought. Not leaving your daughter when going to work is a dream. And dreams need to be realized. He kissed his wife on the top of the head and said: - Let's do it! You are a smart girl. By the way, it's time to do the nursery at home. Only three months left before the birth.

- I am for it, - Defne was delighted.

- Then let's go shopping on Saturday. Let's see everything we need.

- Oh! - Defne pressed her palms to her cheeks. - I already want Saturday! Just a warning - I can get carried away! So your mission will be to stop me.

"It's unlikely that I will succeed," Omer replied to her tone. - I can get carried away too.

"I also need to buy two dresses. Next week are the presentations of Tranba and Passionis. I want to be beautiful!

- You are always beautiful, - Omer touched her cheek and straightened the curl that was out of her hair, which the wind played so enthusiastically. - But we will buy dresses. The best.

Defne bit her lip and her eyes began to play with laughter. How good it is to be the wife of a loving and generous man! And then her gaze settled on a walking couple. She frowned and pointed at them to Omer:

- Darling, look! Is this Zubeyir? It turns out he has a girlfriend.

Omer looked around. The couple had already passed the restaurant and headed for the exit. The girl's face was not visible. It was hidden by a patch of dark brown hair. But the guy next to her was just beaming with happiness.

- Exactly Zubeyir, - confirmed Omer. - I'm glad for him. It's time for the guy to get married.

***

The next morning, Omer stood near the glass partition in his office and gazed thoughtfully at the room beyond it. Behind his back, Nazlican and Kivanch were removing chlorophytums from sight. The flowers, of course, was not to blame, but Omer did not want even the slightest reminder of Laila.

- Mr. Omer - the assistant said. "We'll put the flowers on my counter for now, and then we'll decide where they will fit."

- Okay, Nazlican. Thanks! - Omer thanked her. - I have a request for you - find a good decorator with impeccable recommendations.

- Do you want to change the interior? - Nazlican asked smilingly.

"Something like that, '' he replied evasively and turned to Sinan's thunderous greeting that swept through the office.

- Buenos diaz, Passionis!!!

Not even a minute had passed when the partner, beaming with a wide smile, appeared at the threshold of his office, where he ran into Nazlican. Skipping her, he winked at the girl and asked:

"Have you decided that watering the flowers in the boss's office is tiring and better to get rid of them?"

- This is what Mr. Omer wanted - Nazlican answered in tone and closed the door behind her.

- You have decided not to let even a piece of Laila's spirit here? - falling into a chair, the friend asked cheerfully.

"Exactly," Omer confirmed and tapped his fingers on the glass. - How do you look at the fact that I will turn the office behind the glass into a children's room and replace this partition with a sliding door.

- What? Sinan inhaled awkwardly in surprise and coughed. - You know how to stun! Do, of course, if it is convenient for you.

"It will, it will," Omer promised, and his lips curved into a smile that could hardly be called anything other than affectionate.

- Holy heaven! - The friend was indignant. - Omer, we have a presentation on the nose, and you are dreaming about something incomprehensible!

- Wait, wait, your wife will get pregnant, then I will see what you will dream about, - said Omer. - By the way, how are you doing with Seda? Did you make up?

- Uh-huh, - answered Sinan and at the top of his voice began humming something cheerful and triumphant.

"Be ashamed," Omer chided him. - You can't demonstrate your jubilation so clearly. What will employees think?