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

Ozan rubs his temples, his eyes glued to the laptop screen. The numbers and reports blur together, but he doesn't stop working.

Sleep? Not happening.

He exhales, stretching his neck, when—

His gaze snaps toward the hallway.

He gets up, quietly following the sound.

As he reaches the stairs, his sharp eyes widen.

She's walking barefoot, her long hair flowing behind her, her hands lightly brushing the counter as she moves aimlessly.

Her lips part, and she mumbles something—too soft to hear.

Her voice is so small, so vulnerable.

"She betrayed me..."

Leyla's brows knit together, and she shakily exhales.

"I trusted her..." she murmurs. "My best friend... she left me..."

He's never seen this side of her.

The girl who's always sharp-tongued, always fearless... now looks so lost.

He moves forward, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.

Ozan carefully turns her to face him.

Her eyes are half-open, unfocused.

His heart beats a little too hard.

And she's been holding this pain inside?

Ozan scoffs softly, shaking his head.

She'd rather die than admit she's hurting.

He lets out a quiet sigh before scooping her up in his arms.

"Let's get you back to bed, Ateş."

She instinctively leans against him, her face resting against his chest.

Ozan's lips press into a thin line as he carries her upstairs.

She has no idea how fragile she looks right now.

That pisses him off.

Because the world only sees Leyla, the fire.

This is Leyla, the storm she hides.

And for some damn reason—he wants to be the one to calm it.

As Ozan lays her down on the bed, he pulls the blanket over her and turns to leave.

A hand grips his wrist.

Leyla's eyes are open now—half-lidded, drowsy, but definitely awake.

"I don't wanna sleep."

Her voice is soft but stubborn.

Ozan exhales sharply, rubbing his temple.

"Leyla, you're sleepwalking. You need to rest."

She shakes her head.

She grips the blanket, twisting it in her fists like a child.

"I don't wanna sleep. I don't wanna dream. I just—"

She pauses, her throat working like she's trying to push back words she doesn't want to say.

Ozan narrows his eyes.

Leyla's lips part slightly, but she stays silent.

Ozan lets out a low huff, crossing his arms.

"Alright then," he says. "What do you wanna do?"

Leyla blinks up at him.

But then she slowly sits up, brushing her hair back.

"…I don't know," she admits, voice barely above a whisper.

"Great. I'm stuck babysitting a stubborn insomniac."

Leyla glares. "I'm not an insomniac."

Ozan shrugs. "You sure act like one."

Leyla huffs, looking away.

"Fine," Ozan sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Get up. Let's go."

Leyla's brows knit together. "Go where?"

sleepwalking?!