You’re not fighting this battle alone anymore

Ozan's jaw clenched as his gaze lingered on her long, wavy hair cascading down to her lower waist. "How many times have I told you not to leave your hair open like this?"

Leyla let out a sarcastic laugh. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize my hair was your biggest problem when your brother just admitted to trying to ruin my life."

Ozan took a step closer, his fingers itching to tuck a stray strand behind her ear, but he stopped himself. Instead, he whispered, "You think I don't notice things? That I don't care?" His eyes locked onto hers. "I notice everything, Leyla."

Leyla stared at Ozan, her chest rising and falling from the anger still boiling inside her. But then, she noticed something—his pupils dilated, his grip on her wrist tightening just slightly, like he was fighting something within himself.

For a second, everything around them faded. The tension wasn't just about Arif anymore. It was something else, something undeniable.

Ozan's gaze flickered to her lips.

Ozan took a small step forward, closing the distance between them. His fingers twitched at his side, like he was restraining himself. His voice dropped, husky and low. "Leyla..."

She swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how close they were. She could feel the heat radiating from him, the way his eyes softened just for a moment—like he was about to do something reckless.

But then, Leyla snapped out of it.

She yanked her wrist free and took a step back. "Don't look at me like that, Ozan." Her voice was quieter than she intended, almost like she was convincing herself rather than him.

Ozan blinked, as if snapping back to reality himself. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. "Forget it." His voice was gruff, but the way he clenched his jaw said it all—he was fighting something he didn't want to admit.