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

As everyone finished their meals, Leyla placed her fork down, feeling the tension thick in the air. She knew something was off, and now, as her mother dabbed her lips with a napkin, a knowing smile on her face, she braced herself.

"Ozan." her mother began sweetly, "we called you here today for something very important."

Her father nodded, his expression serious yet satisfied. "And Leyla, you should listen carefully too."

Ozan leaned back in his chair, completely at ease, as if he already knew what was coming. His sharp gaze flickered to Leyla for a second before returning to her parents. "I figured," he said smoothly.

Leyla narrowed her eyes. "Figured what?"

Her mother turned to her with an all-too-pleasant smile. "You and Ozan are getting engaged."

Leyla's heart stopped.

Leyla's chair scraped against the floor as she abruptly stood up. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, drowning out the smug look on Ozan's face and the pleased expressions of her parents.

"No," she said firmly, her hands clenched into fists. "Absolutely not."

Her mother's smile faltered, but her father remained calm. "Leyla, sit down."

"You're joking, right? You have to be joking!" Leyla's voice rose as she stared at them in disbelief. "I am not marrying him!"

Ozan exhaled dramatically, shaking his head. "Leyla, don't be so dramatic."

Her glare snapped to him. "Dramatic? Are you serious right now? Did you know about this?!"

Ozan smirked. "Maybe."

That was all it took for Leyla's blood to boil.

Leyla's entire body was tense, her nails digging into her palms as she fought the urge to scream. How could they decide her future without even asking her?

Her mother sighed. "Leyla, sit down. We're not forcing you."

Liar. If they weren't forcing her, why did it feel like she had no choice?

Her father's voice was calm yet firm. "You know our decision is final."

Leyla clenched her jaw. She wanted to fight, to refuse—but deep down, she knew. She had never gone against them before. She never could.

She sat back down, her hands trembling under the table. Ozan, across from her, leaned forward with an infuriating smirk.

Leyla's eyes burned with anger, but she stayed silent. Because no matter how much she hated it… she had to obey.

Leyla's fingers tightened around the edge of the table as she processed Ozan's words.

"Next week?" she repeated, her voice sharper than intended.

Ozan smirked, swirling the glass in his hand lazily. "Why not? If we're getting engaged, then delaying the wedding is pointless. My flight is next week, and I don't plan on leaving my bride behind."

Leyla's mother clapped her hands together in delight. "Oh, that's even better! A grand wedding in just a week—how exciting!"

Her father nodded in agreement. "Yes, that does sound practical. Everything will be arranged immediately."

Leyla's heart pounded in her chest. This wasn't happening. "You're all just deciding this without even asking me?" she snapped, glaring at Ozan.

Ozan simply leaned forward, resting his elbow on the table, his piercing gaze locking onto hers. "Leyla, don't act so surprised. We both knew this was bound to happen."

She shot up from her chair. "I never agreed to this!"

Her mother sighed, shaking her head. "Leyla, sit down. We've talked about this before. Ozan is the perfect match for you."

Perfect match? More like a calculated move.

Ozan chuckled lowly. "You can keep resisting all you want, but in the end, it's happening. The question is—will you walk down the aisle willingly, or will I have to carry you?"

Proposal?