After They Sent Me Overseas, I Returned With a Powerful Husband Chapter 11

After They Sent Me Overseas, I Returned With a Powerful Husband Chapter 11

Evren stood with his back to me, his sleeves rolled up to his forearms as he chopped something in the kitchen.

I sat curled up on the couch, hugging my knees and watching him.

Watching the focused look on his face brought me back to the first time we met, six months earlier.

Back then, Cassian had thrown me overseas without leaving me a single cent.

I stood on a foreign street, dragging my suitcase, my phone at three percent, my bank account so empty I couldn’t even afford a decent meal.

That was when I met Evren.

He looked me over for a moment before speaking.

“One deal. It’ll give you everything you’ve wanted. Interested?”

I didn’t ask what kind of deal it was. I didn’t ask who he was.

I just stood up, took a step toward him, and closed the distance between us.

Just like that, I became his kept woman.

Later, I realized he was even wealthier than I’d imagined.

Buying Hermès bags was as casual as picking vegetables at a grocery store. Every new style came home in every color.

He bought me homes in capital cities around the world, every deed in

—

my name.

Jewelry piled up in every drawer of my vanity—I couldn’t unbox one piece before he’d brought home three more.

But being with Evren wasn’t like being with Cassian or Rowan.

I never threw tantrums around him.

Whatever he gave me, I accepted.

When he wasn’t home, I stayed quietly by myself.

When he came back smelling like whiskey, I helped him out of his jacket.

When he kissed me, I kissed him back.

I never asked where he’d been. Never asked when he’d be back. Never asked about the women around him.

At the time, I thought that was exactly how a kept woman should behave.

But eventually, Evren didn’t want that anymore.

Sometimes he’d stop halfway through a kiss, pinch my chin, and murmur, “Your turn.”

If I couldn’t reach him, he’d lower his head just a little. Never enough to close the last inch.

He always made me bridge the gap myself.

Whenever another woman approached him, he’d deliberately glance at me.

—

When I showed no reaction, he’d frown.

“You’re not jealous?”

I never knew how to answer. I’d just force an awkward smile.

He took my silence as agreement.

That night, he pinned me against the wall and stared into my eyes.

“Ava. Why weren’t you jealous? Don’t you care?”

I couldn’t tell him that I thought I wasn’t allowed to.

Seeing me speechless, he lowered his head and kissed me.

By the time he finally let me go, he’d bitten my lower lip so hard it ached.

His breathing was ragged, his voice low and rough.

“You can get mad at me. You can yell. You can throw things.”

“Give your feelings to me. Don’t hide them.”

I had no idea if other wealthy men taught their girlfriends how to throw tantrums.

But I knew one thing—as long as I did what he said, I’d have everything.

So I started acting jealous.

If another woman texted him while his phone was on the table, I’d snatch it away and stuff it into my pocket.

—

Then I’d fold my arms and refuse to speak until he came over to coax me.

If he stayed away too long, I’d text him to hurry home.

If he upset me, I’d sit on the couch with my arms crossed.

When he asked what was wrong, I’d just say, “Figure it out yourself.”

He never once got annoyed. In fact, every time I threw a fit, Evren couldn’t help but smile.

During those months, I gained more than money.

With his connections and support, I worked my way up until I became the brand director.

Everyone in the industry assumed I was just his latest fling.

They all said he’d lose interest soon enough.

Honestly, I believed it too. So I told myself not to get attached.

I was with him for the money.

For the career. For everything I’d never been able to get from Cassian

—

or Rowan.

But being so rational only pushed us farther apart.

After that, I got busier and busier—meetings, flights, work trips to different cities.

I went back to the villa Evren had given me less and less.

Sometimes I’d finish work after midnight, lie in my hotel bed scrolling through my phone, notice a message he’d sent days earlier, hesitate, then lock my screen without replying.

I figured he was busy too. Maybe he’d forgotten about me.

But it didn’t matter. I’d already gotten what I wanted.

Until one night.

I worked late, packed up my laptop, and realized my old flash drive was missing.

After searching everywhere, I remembered leaving it at the villa. So I resigned myself and took a cab back.

When I pushed the door open, the living room was dark. I thought the house was empty.

Then moonlight spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

A figure sat alone on the couch. Evren.

I froze in the doorway.

—

I had no idea how long he’d been there.

I didn’t know why he was waiting. Or why he hadn’t called me.

But still, I walked over without thinking, bent down, cupped his face, and leaned in to kiss him.

Just as I was about to deepen the kiss, something warm landed on the back of my hand.

I paused, pulling away slightly, I finally saw his face in the moonlight.

His eyes were red-rimmed, his lashes wet with tears.

The calm, distant look I’d always known was gone.

In its place was someone who looked completely heartbroken.

He buried his face against my neck and wrapped both arms tightly around my waist.

His voice came out muffled.

“Do you not love me anymore? Why did you stop coming home?”

It was the first time I’d ever seen Evren like that.

I completely froze. “No… I didn’t…”

I couldn’t even finish a sentence.

But he didn’t wait for my explanation.

Instead, he said quietly, “Baby, please, just give me a real place in your

—

life.”

“I feel like I’m not worthy of you anymore.”

That was when I learned that someone else could be even more insecure than I was.

From then on, we stopped pretending.

He was no longer the sugar daddy. I wasn’t his kept woman.

Just two people—each convinced the other was out of their league—clumsily inching toward one another.

When I came back to the present, Evren had already finished cooking.

He carried the dishes to the table, walked over, and scooped me up from the couch before setting me carefully into a chair.

Then he slipped a fork into my hand.

He ladled me a bowl of soup and set it beside me to cool. Next came two pieces of BBQ ribs in my plate.

He didn’t sit down until he had made sure everything was ready.

Even then, he kept sneaking glances at me. He wouldn’t touch his own food until he saw me take a bite first.

After dinner, he carried me back to the couch—blanket tucked around me, remote placed beside my hand, fruit and snacks laid out on the table.

—

Then he crouched in front of me, resting his hands on his knees before gently rubbing my cheek.

“I’ve got a little work to take care of. I’ll be right back.”

“Just watch your show, and if you get sleepy, go ahead and sleep.”

I nodded. Ever since we lost the babies, I’d become clingy.

If he disappeared into his study for a video conference, I’d end up pushing the door open every ten minutes just to check on him.

Every single time, he’d look up and smile, wave me over, then pull me onto his lap and let me sit there through the entire meeting.

I watched him leave. Then I turned back to the TV.

What I didn’t know was that he wasn’t heading to West Holdings.

He was on his way to see Sienna.