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's eyes fluttered open, her senses still hazy from sleep. But the moment she registered the presence beside her, the warmth, the scent—her body went rigid.

Before she could react, before she could shove him away or even demand what the hell he was doing in her room, his hands were already on her wrists, pinning them down against the bed. His grip was strong, unyielding.

"Ozan—" she started, her voice sharp, but he didn't give her the chance to finish.

His lips crashed against hers—rough, claiming, stealing the words right out of her mouth. It wasn't gentle. It wasn't soft. It was punishment. A warning.

Leyla struggled, her body tensing beneath him, but he only deepened the kiss, as if daring her to resist. She hated how easily he overpowered her, how effortlessly he controlled the situation. But she wasn't going to submit—she couldn't.

A muffled sound of protest left her throat as she tried to turn her head, to break free, but Ozan's grip on her wrists tightened, holding her exactly where he wanted her.

"You think you can play games with me, Leyla?" he murmured darkly against her lips, his breath hot, his voice laced with something possessive. "You think I wouldn't find out?"

Her heart pounded violently against her ribs. He knew.

Her mind raced for a way out, but Ozan was too close, his body pressed against hers, his grip locking her in place. His lips hovered over hers, dark eyes glinting with something unreadable—possessiveness, fury, something dangerously intoxicating.

"You fooled me once," he murmured, his voice thick with warning. "But you won't do it again."

Leyla clenched her jaw, refusing to let him see the fear creeping into her chest. She wouldn't let him win.

"Get off me, Ozan," she spat, attempting to twist her wrists free.

Instead of complying, he smirked—slow, deliberate. His fingers loosened just enough to let his hands travel, tracing down her arms before settling on her waist. The touch sent a shiver down her spine.

"You walked right into my home," he continued, his voice like velvet laced with steel. "Pretending. Lying. Touching what belongs to me." His fingers pressed in just enough to make her breath hitch. "Now, tell me, Leyla… was it fun?"

Her eyes narrowed. "I don't belong to you."

Ozan chuckled darkly, lowering his head until his lips were just beside her ear. His breath fanned against her skin, making her shudder.

"You say that," he whispered, "but your body… it remembers me, doesn't it?"

She refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction, refused to let him know just how much power he was wielding over her. Instead, she lifted her chin, her voice steady despite the storm inside her.

"You're drunk. Just like last time. And when you sober up, you'll regret ever coming here."

Ozan's smirk faded. His grip on her waist tightened for a split second before he suddenly pulled back, sitting on the edge of the bed. His dark gaze lingered on her, studying every inch of her face, as if memorizing her like a puzzle he was finally solving.

"I'm not drunk," he admitted, his voice lower now, almost thoughtful.

YOU'RE STUCK HERE