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

Leyla placed the drinks on the table quickly, adjusting her mask as she prepared to leave.

But before she could take a single step, Ozan's grip closed around her wrist.

In an instant, he pulled her down—onto his lap.

Her heart skipped a beat. She hadn't expected this.

Leyla immediately adjusted her mask, deepening her voice. "S-Sir, I should go."

Ozan ignored her. His fingers lightly traced over her wrist, his touch both firm and lazy. His eyes darkened as he stared at her.

"You remind me of someone." His voice was low, almost slurred, but still dangerous.

No. No way. He couldn't recognize her.

She forced a chuckle, deliberately changing her voice. "Oh? Who might that be, sir?"

Ozan smirked slightly, tilting his head back.

"A woman." His grip tightened on her waist. "A stunning woman." His gaze drifted over her, lingering on the revealing maid outfit, the way the fabric clung to her.

"Her name was Leyla Iskender."

Ozan leaned in, his lips just inches from her ear. "But soon… she'll be Leyla Ozan. Mine."

Leyla clenched her jaw. He was drunk. But even drunk, his possessiveness was suffocating.

She had to get out of here.

She pushed against his chest, attempting to stand, but his grip on her waist tightened.

Ozan's gaze slowly moved over her collarbone, her neck— the exposed skin teasing him.

A flicker of amusement crossed his face.

"Since when did my maids start dressing like this?"

Leyla swallowed. She had to be careful. One wrong move, and he might recognize her.

Leyla quickly lowered her gaze, trying to keep her voice steady.

"H-Head maid said I should wear this, sir," she murmured, deliberately keeping her voice different.

Ozan's smirk deepened as he ran his thumb along the curve of her waist. "Is that so?" His voice was husky, his warm breath fanning against her skin.

Leyla's heart pounded in her chest. He was drunk. Dangerous.

His grip on her waist tightened slightly as his eyes roamed over her, taking in every detail of the revealing maid uniform. "Interesting choice…" he mused, his tone teasing yet dark.

Leyla swallowed hard, trying to keep her focus.

Inside Ozan’s Room