Stolen by a Sinner (Sinners #3)(54)

Giving Alya Hanim a tentative smile, I quickly exit the room and hurry to the kitchen.

“How did it go?” Nisa asks.

I widen my eyes. “I think my presence upset them.”

She waves a hand. “Those two live for drama. Trust me, it’s nothing you did.”

Now that we have a moment to breathe, I ask, “Do you think I can phone Gabriel to thank him for the gown, or should I wait until he’s home?”

She doesn’t hesitate. “Wait until he’s home. He’s busy with work.”

Pouring tea for us, I sit down at the table.

Nisa gives me an inquisitive look. “Did he say you must only call him by his first name?”

I nod, then take a sip of my tea.

She leans forward, her expression telling me she wants to know everything.

I hesitate, not sure what I’m allowed to share. I’ve learned Gabriel is very private, and I don’t want to upset him.

“Allah Allah, tell me everything!” she exclaims impatiently.

I give her an apologetic look. “I’m not sure what I’m allowed to share.”

Excitement widens her eyes. “Has he kissed you?”

A shy smile spreads over my face, making Nisa almost jump out of her chair with happiness.

“So this is what the help does during the day,” Eslem suddenly says as she saunters into the kitchen. “I have to bring the tray back because you’re too busy chatting.”

I dart up and quickly take the tray from her. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Nisa snaps. “Eslem has two hands.”

My eyes widen when Eslem levels Nisa with a glare. “How dare you? Alya Hanim clearly allows you to do whatever you want, but you won’t talk to me like that. Know your place, servant.”

It looks like Nisa’s about to burst a vein as she rises to her feet. I quickly set the tray down and move in front of Nisa. Keeping my tone respectful, as if I’m dealing with Tymon, I say, “We apologize, Eslem Hanim. Is there anything else you need?”

She looks at me as if I’m trash, then lifts her chin and leaves the kitchen.

I quickly turn around. Nisa’s red in her face, her hands shaking. I take hold of them. “It’s okay. Shh.” Not knowing what else to do, I wrap my arms around her and hold her tight. “I’m sorry.”

It’s one thing having people talk to me as if I’m nothing, but it breaks my heart that Nisa had to experience it.

She sucks in deep breaths of air, and when I pull back, she shakes her head. “Gabriel Bey will hear of this,” she says, her voice quivering.

Oh, dear.

“They’re only here for a couple of days,” I try to defuse the situation.

Nisa shakes her head again, then mutters, “Let’s prepare lunch for the ungrateful snakes before one of them slithers into my kitchen again.”

“I’ll serve them,” I say, not wanting them to upset Nisa again. I’m used to dealing with cruel people. When Nisa wants to argue, I shake my head. “No, Nisa Hanim. I’ll serve them.” There’s a finality in my voice I’ve never heard before.

“Thank you.” She gives me another hug before we start making food.

An hour later, when I carry the dishes to the dining room, I steel myself for whatever might come. Entering the room, only Ayesenur Hanim and Eslem are seated at the table.

I set the tray down and carefully unload the dishes.

Eslem looks at the food, then picks up the bowl of Şakşuka. It’s an eggplant, zucchini, garlic, tomato, and chili recipe.

“This is the best you can do?” she asks, her tone filled with hatred.

I’ve learned people don’t need a reason to hate, they just do.

Before I can ask whether I should take it back to the kitchen, Eslem slowly tips the bowl, pouring the dish over my shoes.

Instinctively, I lower my head as she stands up.

She pinches the fabric of my blouse between her fingers. “This is not what a maid wears. You’re disrespecting my mother.”

“I’m sorry,” I murmur respectfully, so glad Nisa’s not here.

Eslem picks up the bowl of Kisir, a Turkish salad, and pours the contents over my blouse.

That’s going to leave a stain.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Gabriel’s voice cracks through the air like a whip.

I instantly drop to the carpet and start to gather the food into a bowl. Pins and needles spread over my body, my heart beating a mile a minute.

Suddenly my wrist is grabbed in a tight hold, and I’m pulled to my feet. Gabriel yanks my body behind his as he steps into his cousin’s personal space. “I asked you a fucking question.”

A man I’ve never seen before steps closer as well. “Eslem? What’s the meaning of this?”

Ayesenur Hanim, who’s been quiet up until now, stands up. “Sakin olun, Gabriel Bay.”

His eyes snap to his aunt, his features tight with rage. I cower behind his back, not wanting any of his anger directed at me. His voice sounds deadly as he growls, “Don’t tell me to calm down.”

Suddenly I’m tugged to his side. “Lara is not a servant you can abuse and boss around to your liking.”

“Then what is she?” Eslem asks with a raised eyebrow.