Stella_Winslet

In the heart of Istanbul, where power and danger walk hand in hand, two fierce souls collide. Leyla Iskender—a woman born into privilege, the daughter of a feared police officer, and a storm in her own right. Trained in combat, fluent in multiple languages, and untouched by fear, she is the kind of woman who doesn’t bow to anyone.

Then there’s Ozan Ali Ahmet—ruthless, enigmatic, and a mastermind with control over the city's underground. When Leyla dares to interfere in his business, she unknowingly marks herself as his greatest obsession. A dangerous game of power and dominance unfolds between them, where every step brings them closer to a line that neither is willing to cross—until it’s too late.

What happens when a man used to control meets a woman who refuses to be tamed? When fire meets fire, will it burn them both… or ignite something even darker?

In the streets of Istanbul

Leyla had barely taken three steps before she felt it again—strong arms wrapping around her thighs, lifting her off the ground.

A shocked gasp escaped her lips as she suddenly found herself thrown over Ozan's shoulder like a sack of flour.

"OZAN!" she shrieked, pounding her fists against his back. "PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOW!"

Ozan, completely unfazed, adjusted his grip around her legs and started walking back inside the mansion as if she weighed nothing.

"You really don't listen, do you?" he mused, his tone maddeningly calm.

Leyla twisted, trying to kick her legs, but his hold was too strong. She could feel the solid warmth of his body beneath her hands, the flex of his muscles as he carried her effortlessly.

"I swear to God, Ozan, if you don't put me down this second—"

"Or what, Ateş?" he interrupted, his voice laced with amusement.

Leyla gritted her teeth. "I'll bite you."

Ozan chuckled, the deep rumble vibrating through his chest. "Feisty. I like it."

Leyla did not like how her stomach flipped at his tone. No. Absolutely not.

She dug her nails into his back. "You're insane! My brother's wedding is today! I need to go home!"

Ozan finally stopped walking, adjusting his hold on her. "I know."

Leyla blinked, still dangling over his shoulder. "Then why the hell are you kidnapping me—again?!"

Ozan smirked, slowly lowering her back onto her feet.

His hands, however, did not leave her waist.

Instead, he leaned in, his breath fanning against her ear as he whispered, "I told you, Ateş… you're going with me."

Leyla's breath caught in her throat.

His grip tightened slightly. "I'll take you shopping. I'll take you to the wedding. But you're going as mine."

Her heart pounded, her body frozen between anger and something dangerously intoxicating.

But she wasn't about to let him win.

Leyla lifted her chin, her eyes burning into his. "You're delusional if you think I belong to you."

Ozan smirked. "Then prove me wrong, Ateş."

Leyla crossed her arms, her glare sharp enough to cut through steel.

"You know what? I can go alone, okay?" she snapped, taking a step back. "I don't need you. I'll find someone who can help me."

Ozan's smirk didn't falter. If anything, it deepened, as if he found her little rebellion… amusing.

"Really?" He cocked his head, watching her with dark amusement. "And how exactly do you plan to do that, Ateş?"

Leyla clenched her fists. "I'll walk. I'll take a cab. I'll—"

"With no money? No phone? No connections in this part of the city?" Ozan cut her off smoothly, stepping closer.

"Face it, Leyla." His voice dipped lower, dangerously smooth. "You need me."

Her jaw tightened. She hated that he was right.

Ozan leaned in slightly, his voice a teasing whisper. "But go ahead, prove me wrong. Walk out that door. Find your way back all on your own. Let's see how long you last."

Leyla's pulse pounded in her ears. She wanted to march out, to slam the door in his face—but she wasn't stupid.

She had no money. No phone. No idea where she even was.

Ozan saw the hesitation in her eyes and smirked.

"That's what I thought." He turned, walking past her toward the entrance. "We're leaving in ten minutes. If you're not in the car by then, good luck finding your way back."

Leyla stood frozen, her nails digging into her palms.

He was playing with her—and worse, he was winning.

I'M NOT YOURS