Damn him

Leyla huffed in frustration but had no other choice. She stormed upstairs, changed into something more appropriate, and returned to find Ozan already waiting for her near the car.

"Hurry up, Ateş. I don't have all day," he muttered, slipping his sunglasses on as he leaned against the sleek black car.

Leyla rolled her eyes but got in without another word.

The ride was silent at first, the tension between them thick. Ozan drove smoothly through the busy streets of Istanbul, his grip relaxed on the wheel.

"You better not pick anything ridiculous," Leyla finally broke the silence.

Ozan smirked. "Why? Afraid I'll dress you in something too breathtaking?"

Leyla scoffed. "I don't need you for that."

Ozan chuckled lowly, glancing at her through his sunglasses. "We'll see."

They arrived at one of the most expensive boutiques in Istanbul. The moment they stepped inside, the staff rushed to greet Ozan, their eyes flickering curiously to Leyla.

Leyla folded her arms. "This place is too much. I just need a dress, not an entire fashion show."

Ozan ignored her and turned to the boutique manager. "Something elegant. Classy. But... make sure it turns heads."

Leyla shot him a glare. "I'll pick my own dress, thanks."

Ozan smirked. "Be my guest. But if you choose something boring, I'm replacing it."

Leyla huffed and walked off to browse.

As she ran her fingers over the luxurious fabrics, she could feel his eyes on her. Watching. Waiting. Like a predator enjoying the hunt.

She grabbed a deep emerald gown and held it up to herself. It was stunning, but… did she really want to wear something Ozan would approve of?

Before she could decide, he was suddenly behind her, his breath warm against her ear.

"That color suits you," he murmured.

Leyla's fingers clenched the fabric.

Leyla barely spared Ozan a glance as she walked past the line of extravagant gowns. The boutique was filled with racks of designer dresses, each one more expensive than the last. She ran her fingers along the fabric, ignoring the man who had kidnapped her just hours ago.

Ozan, of course, wasn't the type to be ignored.

Leaning against a sleek black counter, he watched her with his usual smirk, his gaze sharp and unreadable. "Pick whatever you want, Ateş. But don't blame me when all eyes are on you tonight."

Leyla scoffed. She turned to face him, arms crossed over her chest. "Do I look like someone who takes fashion advice from a kidnapper?"

Ozan let out a low chuckle "Kidnapper? Now, now. That's a little dramatic, don't you think? I prefer the term… savior."

Leyla rolled her eyes so hard she nearly saw the back of her skull. "Right. The man who knocked me out and locked me in a mansion is suddenly my savior?"

Ozan took a slow step toward her, his presence commanding without even trying. "You say that like I left you starving in a basement, Ateş. If I recall correctly, you were eating chocolate-covered strawberries in my kitchen last night."

Leyla opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. He had a point, but she refused to admit it. Instead, she grabbed a deep emerald green dress from the rack and held it up. "This one."

Ozan barely glanced at it. "No."

Leyla blinked. "Excuse me?"

Ozan stepped closer, his dark eyes lazily scanning the dress. "It's nice. But not for you."

She scoffed, placing a hand on her hip. *"And what exactly do you think suits me, Ozan? Should I wear something that screams 'property of a lunatic billionaire?'"

Ozan smirked, amused. He turned slightly, motioning to the assistant standing nearby. "Bring the red one.

Leyla's lips parted in disbelief. "I am not wearing something you picked."

Ozan arched a brow. "You'd rather wear something unflattering out of spite?"

She shot him a glare. "I'd rather set myself on fire than let you dictate what I wear."

But then, the assistant returned with the dress.

And damn it.

It was perfect.

A deep, sultry red. The kind of red that demanded attention. Sleek, hugging every curve, with a slit that ran just high enough to make a statement but not cross the line into scandalous.

Leyla hesitated. Not because she agreed with Ozan, but because she hated that he knew exactly what would suit her best.

Ozan leaned in, his breath warm against her ear as he murmured, "Try it on, Ateş. Just once. If you hate it, I'll personally set it on fire for you."

Leyla exhaled sharply, snatching the dress from the assistant's hands.

"Fine."

She spun on her heel and walked toward the dressing room.

Ozan watched her go, his smirk deepening.

She could fight him all she wanted.

But the moment she stepped out in that dress…

He knew she'd be the most breathtaking thing in the entire room.