Jansu was accompanied to the reception by the Association of Jewelers by her cousin, Jan - a twenty-five-year-old handsome man with cheerful brown eyes and the figure of an athlete. Usually, Jansu appeared at such events with her father. But this time an emergency happened. At the last moment, her father had to urgently fly to Izmir. An attempted robbery took place in one of the shops of the Baisal jewelry chain.

It was an outrageous case, and the owner of the company went to follow up the investigation himself. At the same time, Mr. Baisal took a promise from his daughter that she would go to the reception of the Association of Jewelers and defend the interests of not only the company Sapphire, in which she works, - but also the company Baisal, the successor of which she is along with her beloved sister Defne.

Jansu saluted him with two fingers and said, "Yes, Mr.Ozcan!"

And then she went to call Jan. It was a thrill for him to dress up in a tuxedo and appear arm in arm with a beautiful cousin at a social event. He delivered his gorgeous, perfectly dressed figure to the Baisal house at exactly half-past six. The maid who met him said that Mistress Jansu would come down in a minute. Jan, knowing his cousin's punctuality beyond measure, grunted, flexed his arm at the elbow with a perfected movement, and began to count the seconds on the clock. When there were exactly sixty of them, Jansu appeared on the stairs. Jan examined her scarlet, bold neckline dress, and whistled.

"Stunning! My soul, you should have warned me! I would take a pistol."

"Why?" Checking the contents in a black, ruby-strewn evening bag, asked Jansu.

"To shoot those men who will look into the neckline of your dress," comically arched an eyebrow, said Jan.

Jansu laughed and, taking his arm, answered, "Dear, as long as you are with me, no one will even dare to look askance at my neckline. Everyone knows, that your right hook can knock a bull down."

"You're right," flashing a reckless smile, Jan agreed with her.

The reception hall at the Istanbul Hotel sparkled with thousands of lights and smelled of Ivory Yves Piaget roses. Ultra-expensive jewelry on the ladies dazzled the eyes; symphonic music caressed the ear; champagne in glasses had an exquisite golden hue. Everything was extremely pretentious and luxurious. Accustomed to such luxury, Jansu practically didn't notice it. She greeted her acquaintances sweetly, uttered routine phrases, and listened to enthusiastic compliments to her appearance. And she was frankly bored, but at the same time, she skillfully hid her feelings behind a dazzling smile. From time to time she glanced at the front door. Those who were able to save her from boredom were late. It was not at all like the punctual Omer Iplikci, and Jansu was a little worried. Defne was pregnant with her second child; the entire first half of her pregnancy was tormented by a terrible toxicosis, and the whole family shook over her like over a priceless vase.

Niko, impeccably handsome in his evening suit, climbed the steps leading to the reception hall with casual elegance. Monica walked beside him, holding his arm. In a pearl gray dress and diamonds, she was an example of taste and style, but Niko did not notice her beauty. All his senses, including intuition, were sharpened on the girl, who, for sure, was now outside the door of the hall. Excitement seethed in his blood.

Niko felt alive again. The minute he had been waiting for many years has come. It was time for Jansu Baisal to experience what he experienced when she kicked him out of her life. A beggar husband, entangled in debts, turned out to be of no use to her?

Well, times have changed. Now he is rich and successful. His masculine charisma remains the same. He will turn it on at full capacity and Jansu Baisal will not resist. She will fall into his arms and his bed. He will satisfy the acute sexual hunger that burned him for four years, and then he will throw her out of his life, as she once did.

Jansu looked at the door once again and tightened her grip on her purse. If her sister and her husband do not appear within five minutes, she will hide in the first corner she comes across and calls them.

A man entered the hall arm in arm with a dazzlingly beautiful girl. Jansu slid her gaze over his face and the floor swayed under her feet.

It was him.

Niko Bianco.

Still the same tall and handsome, but ... different. There was no longer even a shadow of the former warmth in his eyes. They radiated arctic cold, - and stared at Jansu. She involuntarily took a step back, and he, without hesitation for a second, headed straight to her. His companion, on her fifteen-centimeter stilettos, barely kept up with him. She was very tall, thin, and sexy. A sort of Tyra Banks, only with white skin and brown hair. Jansu, trying to cope with the painful prick in her heart, heard Jan's admiring muttering behind her, "Oh! What a chick? Legs from the ears and a million-dollar smile."

She wanted to hit him properly. But she wanted even more to strangle the man who was striding so decisively right towards her. What does he want from her? Four years have passed!

Jan noticed him too, and there were amazing notes in his muttering," Jass, isn't this your ex-hubby? Exactly he. Allah-Allah, what an evening?!"

With an almost imperceptible movement, Jansu nudged him in the stomach and hissed, "Shut up!"

"Ay," grabbing the sore spot, Jan involuntarily exclaimed.

But the top model was already at a distance of a meter, and the guy straightened up, putting an admiring smile on his face.

"Hello, Jansu," said Niko, stopping in front of his ex-wife.

His companion shuddered at the sound of the name and stared in shock, first at the girl in the scarlet dress, and then at Nico. But he didn't notice her gaze. Without taking his eyes off, he looked at Jansu and waited for an answer.

"Niko," she said. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Why not?" He asked ironically. "We work in the same sector, and Bianco Salvatore has returned to the jewelry market again."

"Congratulations," answered Jansu with restraint. "Your mother is probably happy."

"All Bianco are happy," he said in a tone that sent shivers down Junsu's spine.

"Honey, I'm not acquainted with your companion," the model interjected, a transparent reminder of politeness."

"Sorry," Niko spoke to her, - but did not take his eyes off Jansu. "Monica, meet Jansu Baisal and her cousin Jan. Jansu, Jan, my lo ... friend Monica Galvano."

Jansu nodded modestly, and Jan clicked his heels, kissed the Italian woman's hand, and showered her with compliments. He was spilling compliments out like a nightingale, Monica was listening with a bored look, Nico was staring at Jansu point-blank, and she was praying that he would get away so she could breathe again.

Omer and Defne Iplikci again became her saviors. They entered the hall as swiftly as Defne's rounded figure would allow. Jansu, from relief, closed her eyes for a moment and hurried to say goodbye to her ex-husband and his date.

"Monica, it was nice to meet you; Niko, glad you're doing well. Have a nice evening."

She stretched her lips in a smile and tugged on Jan's sleeve, who was still staring at Monica's pearly gray silk-covered silicone breasts. He sighed disappointedly and, wishing the couple a good time, followed his cousin.

"Jass," he whispered in her ear as he caught up with her, "Are you sure your divorce from Nico was real? Such sparks flying between you that it was a miracle the fire didn't happen."

Jansu stopped and looked at him with such a look that her cousin raised his hands and said," I am silent, I am silent! I am going to get us some drinks. Do you want champagne or wine?"

"General anesthesia," she hissed wryly.

Jan laughed and went to the buffet tables. Jansu turned to her sister and brother-in-law, who, smiling guiltily, hurried to her. A warm, sincere smile blossomed on her face. But she could not resist the reprimand, "Well, how can you do that," she rebuked Iplikci. "I'm worn out with anxiety."

"I'm sorry," Defne said contritely. "Emine climbed to the top of the apple tree and announced that she was a monkey and would live on a tree. Omer and I spent forty minutes trying to persuade her to get off. Only the promise to buy rollers tomorrow worked. The nanny almost had a heart attack, and she announced that she was quitting immediately. We had to urgently take Emine to Grandma Turkan and Grandfather Hulusi. That's why we were late. I didn't even have time to prepare myself," she touched the loose knot in the back of her red hair.

"You look great," Omer reassured her. "Don't worry."

"I second that," said Jansu. "You look wonderful. Better than some who sat in a beauty salon for eight hours. But I'm worried about something else - you didn't scold Emine Diana, did you?" She asked worriedly.

Defne and Omer looked at each other and sighed exaggeratedly.

"If we scolded, then we would not get to the reception at all," answered Defne. "We decided to have a conversation tomorrow. But the problem is different - we were again left without a nanny."

Jansu laughed involuntarily. The endless stream of nannies in the Iplikci family has already become a legend. Nimble, energetic, intelligent, and endowed with remarkable imagination Emine Diana, for a couple of weeks each brought to a heart attack.

"And we have a lot of work to do," continued to complain Defne. "We'll have to take her to the office on Monday."

"That's all she wants," Omer muttered.

Jansu, laughing, advised, "Drop her off with Koray. He will be happy."

"Aha," Defne was indignant. "Only then the next nanny will run away not in two weeks, but two days."

"But there is still no choice," said Omer.

Next to her sister and her husband, Jansu almost calmed down and ordered herself to hold steady. She and Niko Bianco work in the same sector. It is only logical that their roads will intersect. She must accept this and behave in a civilized manner, not shying away every time he appears in front of her arm in arm with another "girlfriend."

"Good evening!"

Jansu flinched at the Italian-accented voice behind her. Oh, Allah! Niko again. Can't he stay away from her? It looks like he couldn't. He came up, stopped beside, and turned to Iplikci, "Mr. Omer, Mrs. Defne, my name is Nicolo Salvatore Bianco. I am the owner of the Bianco Salvatore chain of Italian boutiques."

"It's a pleasure," Omer replied, shaking his hand. "I've heard a lot about your brand. Turning ordinary jewelry stores into boutiques of exclusive jewelry and precious clothing was an interesting and daring, but very risky decision."

"I had no choice," Niko told him. "I had to take risks. But that's all in the past. I have a business proposal for you, Mrs. Defne, and for you, Mr. Omer."

"To me?" Omer was surprised. "But I don't work with jewelry. This is Defne's line of work."

He smiled tenderly at his wife, and she answered with a look full of love. Niko envied them, and he got angry. He didn't want to see love; he didn't want to know that families can be happy and warm; that you can laugh next to your wife, and not experience irritation and boredom in her presence. As it was in his family. His father avoided his mother and ran to his mistresses, - as did his brothers, - and his mother's brothers.

Four years ago, on his wedding day with Jansu, Niko thought he had escaped their fate. But no, fate always brings everyone back to square one.

Scolding himself for the inappropriate emotions now, Niko replied to Omer, "You can always start something new. I have an ambitious project to sell shoes adorned with precious stones. And who, if not Omer and Defne Iplikci, can create such?"

The Iplikci looked at him and their eyes flared up with excitement.

Jansu felt like a piece of steel being thrown into the fire, now into the icy water. The behavior of Omer and Defne made it clear that the sister and brother-in-law did not guess who Niko was. No wonder. They never saw him, newspaper articles about the wedding had passed them by, and Jansu herself, in a conversation with them, mentioned his name only once - when she talked about the betrayal. It never sounded again.

An unsuspecting Defne, - remembered the rules of good manners, and introduced the new acquaintance to Jansu. Her heart stopped. Niko turned his head slightly and gave her a sidelong, expectant look. She looked in front of her and was silent. But with peripheral vision, she saw his face.

"Come on, Jansu Baisal," he urged. "Admit who I am!"

Jansu bit her lower lip until it bled.

Without waiting for a sound from her, Niko said, "We are familiar with Jansu."

She did not expect such words from him. What are they needed for? Throwing a warning glance at him, she spoke with seeming frivolity, "Yes, we do know each other. We met in February at an exhibition in London."

Niko was not surprised by her lies. Traitors are always liars. With a wry smile, he spoke to the Iplikci couple, "Can we meet with you and discuss everything quietly?"

"Of course," Omer replied. "Defne and I are expecting you at Passionis on Monday. Will ten in the morning suit you?"

"Quite," Nico confirmed.

Jansu closed her eyes. Sapphire will collaborate with Bianco Salvatore. This means that she, as Sapphire's CFO, will have to communicate with Niko. Oh, Allah! How can you endure this and not go crazy?

"Jansu!"

No, he decided to finish her off today!

"Yes," the answer sounded quite benevolent.

"May I have this dance?"

"No! No! You can't!" screamed everything inside, but the outer shell remained unperturbed.

"With pleasure," she replied and placed her hand in his.

They joined the dancing couples. Niko put his arms around Junsu's waist. She put her hand on his chest and pressed lightly, reminding him of the distance.

"You lo....friend won't she be unhappy that you left her and danced with another? Jansu asked with veiled irony.

"Are you jealous?" He asked in response and pressed his hot palm more tightly to her back.

"Why would I do that?" She did her best to appear indifferent. "We have been divorced for four years. All feelings are long dead and buried."

Her answer hurt him. So dead and buried? Oh no, Princess Jansu. Your dead feelings will rise and blaze with renewed vigor.

He bent down to her ear and whispered hoarsely, "If feelings are dead, then why did you chicken out again?"

"What are you talking about? She mimicked incomprehension. "And what do you mean, again?"

"You were afraid to tell Iplikci that I am your husband... Ex.

Jansu just shrugged. She was not going to make excuses for him. But it was the word "again" that intrigued and outraged her.

"You didn't answer my second question," she reminded Niko. "When did I ever chicken out?"

"When you were afraid to stay with your husband after learning about his debts," he answered harshly. "Dumped him without even talking or listening to him. Isn't that cowardice?"

Jansu stopped and stared at his face in shock.

"What?" Asked. "Do you think I left you out of fear of your debts?"

He stared at her silently, but the answer was read in his angry eyes and their scornful squint.

"Then you're just a fool, Nico Bianco," Jansu said.

Pushing him away, she lifted her chin and walked away. He went to the wall and took a glass of whiskey from a passing waiter. Anger raged inside, bordering on rage. At that moment he hated Jansu with the frenzy of a madman. Hated her for her lies and hypocrisy.

For not believing in him and his strength.

For dumping him and breaking his heart.

For having betrayed him and made a scoundrel out of him...

He drained the whiskey in one gulp and returned the glass to the tray. It didn't get any easier. But it is not important, he was used to pain. For four years it tore him up from the inside. For four years it burned with hellish fire and twisted his insides in a knot. Four years...

But she, the spoiled, deceitful, cowardly Princess Jansu, will experience the same!

Jansu wanted to get some air. Resentment choked her. Her chest ached and clenched with spasms. Nico's words hurt her like hell. Memories floated back to her mind, and she heard every word spoken then.

"Are you sure Niko loves you?"

"Jansu doesn't need to know anything. If you open your mouth and tell her, I will destroy you. "

"It's not in my interest to tell Jansu about our deal. But, I want to remind you that I fulfilled my part - I married your daughter. Now it's your turn to do your part — to pay off my family's debts. "

"In a week, two million euros will go to your account ...

Lord, is he now so cynically reproaching her for cowardice? That she was afraid of difficulties?

Yes, if he loved her, if he was honest with her, she would follow him into fire and water. And he...

"Miss. Jansu!"

The man who stopped her also had an Italian accent. Jansu looked up at him. His face was vaguely familiar. It seems they met at one of the European forums. He tried to woo her then, but his fleeing eyes and thin lips caused her persistent rejection.

"Tony Remarco," the man recalled his name and held out his hand. "May I have this dance?"

"No," she said curtly, disregarding politeness. "I don't dance."

She sidestepped him and headed over to where Jan was scoffing, surrounded by silicone girls. She needs to pull him away from them - and get out of that reception. Enough of the social life and self-important Italians for her today.

Niko, as if bewitched, searched for her with his eyes until he found her. Jansu went to her cousin, took his arm, and smiled a dazzling smile. He said something to her and she laughed. Niko gritted his teeth.

"Did you get turned away by that hottie, too? Oh, she is. I was interested in her. A princess who says no to everyone."

The man spoke Italian. Niko turned to the voice. Tony Remarco, one of the directors of the Jewelers Association, gazed at Jansu with oily eyes.