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

She shifted slightly, hoping he'd let go, but Ozan only pulled her closer.

"Tell me," he murmured, his lips just inches from her ear. "Why do I feel like you're hiding something?"

Leyla forced herself to smile, keeping her voice soft and innocent. "N-No, sir. Do you need anything else, or should I leave? I have work to do."

She was trying her best to act like a clueless, obedient maid—because getting caught was not an option.

Ozan, still drunk but sharp as ever, smirked at her hesitation. "There are plenty of people to do the work. You're staying here."

Leyla's heart skipped a beat. This wasn't part of the plan.

His grip on her waist didn't loosen, and she could feel the heat radiating from his body. He tilted his head slightly, studying her like a puzzle he was trying to solve.

"Why do you seem nervous?" he murmured, his piercing gaze locked onto hers.

Ozan's grip on her waist tightened slightly as he pulled her just a little closer. His fingers brushed over the soft fabric of her revealing maid outfit, tracing slow, lazy patterns along her waist.

"You're… different," he murmured, his deep voice laced with intoxication, but his eyes were sharp—watching her, reading her.

Leyla forced herself to stay still. She couldn't afford to react. "S-Sir… I should go," she whispered, pretending to be nervous.

Ozan smirked. "Why?" His fingers moved up, grazing the curve of her spine, sending a shiver down her back. "Scared of me?"

Leyla clenched her jaw. Of course not. But she needed to act like she was. She swallowed hard and nodded. "Everyone says you're dangerous when you're drunk."

Ozan chuckled, his warm breath fanning against her neck. "And what do you think?"

She hesitated, her heartbeat thudding in her ears. "I think…" she whispered, tilting her head slightly, her lips parting just a little—playing into the moment.

Ozan's gaze darkened, his fingers brushing the exposed skin of her shoulder. "You're a distraction." His hand trailed down her arm, slow, deliberate. "Stay."

Leyla felt her breath hitch as Ozan's fingers trailed down her arm, his grip firm but teasing. His touch was sending warning bells through her mind—she needed to get out before he caught on.

She forced herself to lower her gaze, playing the part of an innocent, nervous maid. "S-Sir… I really should leave."

Ozan smirked lazily, his head tilting as he observed her. "You're running away too quickly, sweetheart." His fingers brushed against the exposed skin of her collarbone, his touch featherlight but enough to make her stiffen.

Leyla clenched her fists. "I'm just a maid," she whispered, voice barely above a breath. "You have more important people to focus on than someone like me."

Ozan let out a low chuckle, his eyes locked onto hers like a predator playing with its prey. "And yet... you're the most interesting person in this room right now."

His hand moved, tracing the strap of her maid's uniform, his fingertips grazing her shoulder. His smirk deepened when he saw the way she tensed. "Does that make you nervous?"

Leyla had to think fast. "It's just..." she swallowed, acting hesitant, "... I wasn't expecting someone like you to pay attention to someone like me."

"Someone like me?" Ozan echoed, amused. His fingers brushed her jaw lightly, tilting her face up to meet his gaze.

Leyla was dangerously close to being exposed, and she knew it. She needed to create a distraction—anything to get out of this situation.

HIDING SOMETHING?