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

As soon as Leyla pushed Arman away, a gunshot echoed through the warehouse.

Arman screamed, stumbling back as blood spread across his shoulder.

Hayat gasped, stepping back in shock. "You shot him?!" she shrieked.

Iskender marched forward, pressing the gun against Arman's forehead. His voice was dangerously low. "How dare you even think about touching my daughter?"

The warehouse was filled with chaos—Arman's men were panicking, trying to fight back, but suddenly, the distant sound of police sirens filled the air.

Leyla, overwhelmed, stumbled to the side, her breath shaky. Her vision was blurry, her body weak.

Leyla felt nothing but rage as she sat in the car, staring blankly out of the window. Her hands were clenched into fists, nails digging into her palms.

Her best friend—Hayat, the one she had trusted the most—had betrayed her. And why? Because of Ozan.

If he had never entered her life, Hayat wouldn't have turned against her.

Her heart pounded with anger. She hated him now.

Iskender glanced at her while driving. "Leyla… are you okay?"

She didn't answer. Her mind was a storm.

When they reached the mansion, she stormed inside without a word, heading straight to her room and slamming the door shut.

And now… she would never forgive him.

Leyla locked herself in her room, her breaths uneven. The wound on her arm was still bleeding, staining her sleeve with deep crimson.

She grabbed a bandage from the drawer and wrapped it around her arm, tightening it with shaky hands. She didn't even flinch at the pain—it was nothing compared to the ache in her chest.

She had been stabbed. Not just physically, but emotionally too.

The people she trusted had turned against her.

I’ll fight alone