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

Ozan stirred awake, his head pounding like a war drum. A low groan escaped his lips as he sat up, rubbing his temples. His entire body felt heavy, sluggish—effects of last night's drinking. "Damn it," he muttered under his breath.

His room was dimly lit, curtains still drawn. He looked around, trying to make sense of why his body felt so strange. Something was off. The scent of vanilla and something faintly familiar lingered in the air. His jaw clenched. Did someone come in last night?

His gaze swept across the room until it landed on something small and silver on the floor. A ring.

Ozan's brows furrowed as he leaned forward, picking it up between his fingers. It wasn't just any ring. It was her ring.

His grip on the ring tightened as a slow realization dawned on him. He knew this ring too well—Leyla İskender never took it off. What the hell was it doing here?

A cold shiver ran down his spine. He searched his hazy memory, trying to recall anything—had she been here? But there were only fragments, blurry and unclear. A woman. Soft skin. Familiar warmth. A voice—he couldn't quite place it.

His head snapped toward the door. If Leyla was really here last night… why? And more importantly, where the hell was she now?

Ozan clenched his jaw as he tried to force his foggy mind to clear. His fingers traced over the ring absentmindedly, his breath slow and deep. Think, Ozan. What the hell happened last night?

Then—like a slow-burning flame, memories flickered back to life.

A woman. Her scent—soft, intoxicating. The feel of her skin beneath his lips. The way his hands had gripped her waist, the way her body had trembled beneath him.

And then—his teeth sinking into delicate flesh.

His chest tightened. His own breath felt heavier.

He exhaled sharply, gripping the ring harder. He remembered the way she had reacted—the way she had tried to escape. He had pinned her down. Claimed her. Kissed her until she had no choice but to submit.

And now, all that was left was this damn ring.

His gaze darkened as his fingers traced over his lips. His lips that had touched her.

He pushed himself up, ignoring the throbbing in his head, and stormed out of the room. He needed answers.

As he stepped into the hall, his voice was sharp. "Who was in my room last night?"

The maids exchanged nervous glances before one of them hesitantly answered, "A new maid, sir. But she left.

Ozan's eyes darkened. A new maid. And now she was gone.

His mind worked fast, piecing everything together. It was her. It had to be her.

A low chuckle escaped his lips, but it wasn't one of amusement. It was dark. Dangerous.

Leyla had dared to enter his home, disguised as someone else. She had played a game with him.

His fingers tightened around the ring.

"Fine, Leyla," he murmured to himself, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips. "You want to play games? Let's see how long you can run."