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

Power. Control. Blood. Desire.

It was all a game. And Beren was finally learning how to play it.

The grand hall was bathed in gold and shadows, the chandeliers above flickering like stars about to collapse. Beren stood at the center of it all—untouchable, unreadable, undeniable.

Emir was chaos wrapped in silk and steel.

Dressed in an all-black suit, he lounged on the velvet throne like a king who had just conquered an empire. One hand rested on the armrest, the other? Holding a glass of wine he hadn't even sipped—because his real addiction sat across from him.

She wore black tonight. A dress that clung to every inch of her like sin, like temptation designed for destruction. And Emir was already falling.

Tonight, Beren wasn't just the girl who had once been delicate.

She was powerful. Ruthless. His equal.

And that? That drove Emir insane.

Ece stood at the far end of the room, her face pale, her confidence cracking. She had walked in believing she still held a place here, believing she could manipulate, deceive, play her games.

She was nothing compared to the woman standing beside Emir.

Beren didn't even look at her. Her attention was solely on Emir.

And Emir? He was enjoying every second of it.

He smirked, tilting his head as he watched her. "You're not afraid anymore, Butterfly."

Beren lifted her chin, her brown eyes sharp like a blade. "Fear is for the weak. And I refuse to be weak."

A slow, dangerous chuckle left Emir's lips. He leaned forward, placing the untouched glass down. "Good."

In one swift motion, he was in front of her.

One second, she was standing tall—unshaken.

The next? Her back was pressed against the cold marble pillar, and Emir was in her space, completely, utterly, mercilessly.

His fingers brushed against her jaw, tilting her face up. "Say it again."

Beren's breath hitched. "I refuse to be weak."

Emir exhaled slowly, his thumb grazing her bottom lip. "That's my girl."

Ece shifted uncomfortably in the background, but neither of them acknowledged her anymore.

The world belonged to Emir and Beren alone.

And everyone else? They were simply waiting for destruction to begin.

The Art of War & Seduction