Ozan never lost..

The next morning, sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow in the room. Leyla slowly opened her eyes, her body still exhausted from the previous night's stress.

For a brief moment, she forgot everything. She forgot the engagement, the forced marriage, the suffocating presence of Ozan in her life. But as soon as she turned her head—there he was.

Ozan stood by the window, already dressed in a crisp black shirt with the top buttons undone, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He held a cup of coffee in one hand, his other tucked into his pocket. His sharp gaze flickered to her the moment she moved.

"Finally awake?" His voice was calm, yet there was an edge to it.

Leyla sat up slowly, her muscles stiff. "Why are you still here?"

Ozan smirked. "Where else would I be? This is my room too, remember?"

Her stomach twisted at his words. His room. His bed. His rules.

Leyla's fingers curled around the blanket, her nails digging into the fabric. "I want my own space."

Ozan took a slow sip of his coffee, watching her. "Not happening."

Her jaw tightened. "I didn't ask for this marriage."

"You didn't have to," he replied casually, setting his cup down on the table. "It was decided. And now you're mine."

Leyla's heart pounded. She refused to let him break her. She refused to submit.

"I'll never be yours," she said coldly.

Ozan only chuckled, his dark eyes gleaming. He leaned in, placing his hands on either side of her, caging her in. "Say that again, but look me in the eyes this time."

Leyla met his gaze, her own burning with defiance. She wouldn't let him win. But deep down, she knew—Ozan never lost.