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

And just then Ozan stepped into the café, discussing business with the man beside him, but his steps faltered the moment his eyes landed on Leyla.

There she was—sitting at a corner table, her long hair cascading over her shoulders, a cup of coffee in her hands. But what bothered him was the man sitting across from her. A man who was leaning in slightly, his gaze locked onto hers with an expression that Ozan didn't like.

His jaw clenched. What the hell was she doing here? And with him?

Leyla, oblivious to Ozan's presence, took a sip of her coffee, but as she set the cup down, she felt something—an intense gaze burning into her. She looked up, and her heart skipped a beat.

Their eyes met. Hers widened for a fraction of a second before she quickly masked her emotions, but Ozan… Ozan wasn't even trying to hide his.

His expression? Pure jealousy..

Leyla held Ozan's gaze for a moment, then casually looked away as if he were nothing more than a stranger in the crowd. She picked up her coffee again, took a small sip, and turned her attention back to the man sitting across from her.

Ozan's fists clenched. She was ignoring him.

That bastard sitting with her smirked slightly, as if he knew exactly what was going through Ozan's mind. It made Ozan's blood boil. He had no idea who this man was, but the way he was looking at his Leyla— No. Not his. Not anymore.

Leyla, keeping her expression neutral, continued her conversation with the man, completely unbothered by Ozan's presence. She knew he was watching. She could feel it. The weight of his stare, the tension in the air. But she refused to acknowledge him.

Ozan took a deep breath, his temper barely in check. He had two choices—walk away and pretend he didn't care or go over there and make sure Leyla remembered exactly who he was.

THIS IS MY CAFE