Chapter 8

“Are you sick, Murat? You can’t marry that woman,” Berat reasoned, clearly in shock at his choice.

The man who hated poor people and never displayed any humility was going to marry a maid.

“I am not marrying her truly; it will just be a contract. To get back at my father, and also I hate that clumsy girl. She looks so dumb and ordinary,” Murat shrugged, eyes still fixated on Ayleen, who was now packing up the equipment after cleaning the pool.

Berat snorted, “So you will just go straight to her and expect her to sign a contract quietly without any nuisance. It is not a piece of pie, my friend.”

“Then I will offer her money. Money has every power, Berat.”

“She looks idiotic and clumsy but not like a gold digger,” Berat said and stood up, heading towards where Ayleen was. The chubby, pale-skinned girl looked innocent to him.

“So what? Look, Berat, I have only twenty days until Dad returns, or should I say nineteen, ‘cause this day is almost finished