Jeya_Rashique

Beneath the surface of Istanbul, in the shadows where the world dares not look, Emir reigns—a ghost, a weapon, a monster carved from betrayal. Abandoned as a child, he learned to survive in the blood-soaked underbelly of power until Kanat, a man with secrets of his own, took him in and forged him into something unstoppable.

Emir knows nothing of innocence. Nothing of softness. Nothing of the daughter Kanat kept hidden from him.

Beren.

Delicate. Sheltered. Too pure for a world like his. She should have never stepped into his underground lair. She should have never seen him like that—hands drenched in blood, eyes as dark as the sins he carries.

Now, she is tangled in his world, a world that will eat her alive.

Unless he teaches her how to survive it.

Unless he makes her just as dangerous as he is.

But some flames burn too close, some shadows whisper too sweetly, and some monsters… aren’t meant to be tamed.

 A dark, intense tale of power, obsession, and love laced with danger. Enter at your own risk.

The Devil's Butterfly

The room was dimly lit, the air thick with tension. Beren sat on the velvet couch, arms crossed, glaring at Emir, who leaned lazily against the wall, watching her like a predator. His green eyes gleamed with something dark, dangerous—hungry.

She hated when he looked at her like that.

Like he was seconds away from devouring her.

Emir smirked. "Of course. I like watching my little Butterfly squirm."

Beren rolled her eyes. "You seriously need a new hobby."

Emir took a slow step forward, his movements calculated, his presence suffocating. "Oh, but I already have one—annoying you."

She exhaled sharply, trying to ignore the way her heartbeat picked up as he closed the distance between them. Why was he always so damn close?

"Devil," she muttered under her breath.

Emir chuckled, low and dark. "That's right, Butterfly. And you? You're mine."

Beren's breath hitched. "You have serious attachment issues, you know that?"

Emir leaned down, placing both hands on either side of her, trapping her between the couch and his towering frame. His scent—leather, spice, danger—invaded her senses.

"Maybe," he whispered, his lips grazing the shell of her ear, "but only when it comes to you."

Beren swallowed. This was bad. This was very, very bad.

Her fingers curled into fists, trying to keep herself steady. "You need therapy."

Emir let out a deep, amused hum. "I prefer you."

Beren pushed at his chest, but he didn't budge. "Move."

"Make me," he challenged, his voice laced with amusement.

Her eyes narrowed. "I swear, one day, I'm going to—"

Before she could finish, his fingers wrapped around her wrist, pulling her forward—forcing her to crash into his chest.

Emir smirked. "Going to what, Butterfly?"

Beren glared up at him, pretending like she wasn't completely losing her mind. "One day, I'm going to strangle you."

Emir hummed in approval, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her wrist. "Kinky."

Beren smacked his shoulder. "Shut up!"

He laughed, low, rich, sinful.

Beren tried to move, but Emir's grip tightened. His thumb brushed against the inside of her wrist, slow, deliberate. She felt it everywhere.

"You're trembling," he murmured, voice softer now, more dangerous.

Beren's pulse thundered. "I'm not."

"You are." He tilted his head, studying her like a puzzle he was obsessed with solving. "Do I scare you, Butterfly?"

Beren met his gaze, fire flashing in her brown eyes. "No. You just annoy me to death."

Emir smirked, fingers trailing up her arm, barely touching, yet setting her skin on fire. "Good. I like keeping you on your toes."

This man was a menace.

A dangerous, possessive, deadly menace.

And the worst part? She was starting to enjoy it.

Devil’s Obsession