Intro. Rebel Karaçay was a cold silhouette wandering in the shadows of Istanbul's most luxurious hotels. She was a dangerously beautiful woman who blew men's minds with her long black hair, flawless skin and sharp features. In her escort ads, she would state her nightly fee in short, clear terms and did not spend much on words. But in reality, all he offered was a hoax that ended with the last breath. The men she chose always fit the same profile: wealthy, often married, or the types who could disappear without a trace. When it was time for an appointment, he would walk into the room, dim the lights, turn on the music, and get to work without making any unnecessary gestures. He neither smiled, nor complimented, nor showed sincerity. It only proceeded with a cold, mechanical rhythm. Just when the man became his most vulnerable, when he let himself go completely, the thin dagger that came out from under the pillow would finish him off with a single and decisive movement. To the heart or the jugular vein... It wouldn't change according to his preference, the result would always be the same. As the blood spread on the bed, Asi was in no hurry. He gets up calmly, takes a shower,