When they finally arrived in Italy, Leyla was still fast asleep. Ozan glanced at her—her soft features, slightly parted lips, and the innocence that only showed when she was sleeping.
A smirk curled on his lips.
"Leyla," he called her name softly, but she didn't react.
He placed his fingers gently on her cheek, tapping lightly, but she still didn't wake up. Ozan let out a quiet sigh before deciding he wasn't going to wait any longer. Without hesitation, he scooped her up into his arms.
Leyla stirred slightly, but she still didn't fully wake up. Her head rested against his shoulder.
"Are you actually this heavy, or is this just an excuse to cling to me?" Ozan teased, but she remained motionless in his arms.
As he carried her off the private jet, his guards followed closely behind. Ozan walked effortlessly, carrying her all the way to the car. Once there, he carefully placed her in the back seat, taking a moment to look at her face one more time.
A possessive smile formed on his lips.
"The game you've started, Leyla… let's see who wins."
With that, he shut the car door and signaled the driver. The real journey in Italy was about to begin.