Poyraz_karayelden_kac_kadeh_kirildi_poyraz_kara...

He didn't need to look up to know it was her. The scent of her perfume always reached him before her voice did. Ayşegül sat down, her eyes tracing the exhaustion etched into his face.

The song drifted through the smoky air, Müslüm Gürses’ voice acting as the narrator of Poyraz's chaotic soul. He looked at the glass in his hand. It wasn't just leaded crystal; it was a vessel for the memories of Ayşegül—the woman who was both his salvation and his greatest "impossible." poyraz_karayelden_kac_kadeh_kirildi_poyraz_kara...

"" (How many glasses have been broken in my drunken heart...) He didn't need to look up to know it was her

He remembered the first time they danced to this song. He had stepped on her toes, making some absurd joke about how his feet were actually secret agents trying to sabotage the evening. She had laughed, that bright, bell-like sound that made the darkness of the Mafia world he inhabited feel like a distant bad dream. The song drifted through the smoky air, Müslüm