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

A few days passed. Leyla's parents had returned, and everything seemed to go back to normal. But then, one day, her mother suddenly said, "You're not going anywhere today. Ozan is coming over for lunch."

Leyla froze. What? Her parents had never stopped her from going out just because a guest was coming over. In fact, her mother never even liked hearing Ozan's name, and now she was keeping her home for him?

What was even stranger was that her father agreed.

Trying to sound casual, Leyla asked, "Since when was this decided?"

Her mother smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Ozan is like family, sweetheart. You know how much I adore him."

Leyla felt an uneasy chill run down her spine. Since when did her mother 'adore' Ozan?

"It's final," her father added, his tone firm and authoritative.

Leyla's suspicion grew. What was happening? Why was Ozan's visit suddenly so important that her parents were making sure she stayed home?

She silently agreed but couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Had Ozan said something to them? Or were her parents planning something on their own?

Leyla's mom came with a dress in hand.

Leyla's brows furrowed as she stared at the elegant dress her mother held out to her. It was a soft shade of red, long and flowing, with delicate embroidery along the neckline. Beautiful. But not her style.

"What is this?" Leyla asked cautiously.

Her mother smiled, a little too warmly. "Wear this for lunch."

Leyla let out a short laugh. "I have my own clothes, Mom. You never tell me what to wear."

"Today is different."

Leyla's stomach twisted. That feeling of unease from earlier returned, stronger this time.

"And why exactly is today different?" she pressed, crossing her arms.

Her mother sighed, setting the dress down on the bed. "Just do as I say, Leyla. No arguments today."

Leyla's heartbeat quickened. No arguments? Since when did her mother ever say that?

Her father, who had been reading the newspaper across the room, finally spoke. "Listen to your mother, Leyla. Just wear it."

Just wear it. Like it wasn't a big deal. Like it wasn't completely out of character for them.

Leyla sighed, realizing she had no choice. Fine. She grabbed the dress and changed into it, the silky fabric hugging her figure perfectly. It was elegant, maybe even too elegant for a simple lunch at home.

She let her long, dark hair fall freely down her back, reaching just below her waist. If they wanted her to play this ridiculous game, fine. She'd play along.

By the time she stepped out of her room, the house was already filled with the soft clinking of cutlery and murmured conversations. The dining table was set, and the staff was moving around, ensuring everything was perfect. Too perfect.

Ozan had arrived.

Leyla's fingers curled into fists at her sides as she watched him walk in. He was dressed sharply, as always, his posture relaxed yet completely in control. But the moment his gaze landed on her—on the dress, on her loose hair—something dark flickered in his eyes.

"You look… different," he said smoothly, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

Leyla ignored the way his eyes roamed over her, choosing instead to take her own seat.

Her mother smiled warmly at Ozan. "We're so glad you could join us, dear."

Her father nodded in agreement. "It's been a while since we all sat together like this."

Leyla, however, barely touched her food. Something was off. The way her parents were behaving, the way Ozan looked too comfortable sitting at their table—it all felt… planned.

What the hell was going on?

Ozan at home?