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 moment they left the ballroom, Emir didn't speak.

He simply dragged Beren through the dimly lit corridors of his estate, his grip firm around her wrist—not painful, but unyielding.

"Emir—" she started, but he didn't let her finish.

With a sharp tug, he pulled her inside a grand, darkened room, slamming the door shut behind them.

His green eyes burned as he stared at her, his jaw clenched tight, his hands flexing at his sides—like he was trying to hold himself back.

"What was that back there?" His voice was low, rough. "Selim? Really?"

Beren folded her arms. "I didn't ask him to defend me."

"But you liked it."

She scoffed. "Jealous much?"

Emir stepped forward. Too close.

"Butterfly," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave, "I don't do jealousy. I do possession."

His lips curled into a wicked smirk. "And you're still here."

Beren swallowed, trying to ignore the heat curling in her stomach. "What do you want, Emir?"

One word. One dangerous word.

Before she could react, his hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him. His heat. His power. His madness.

"You don't get to play these games with me, Beren." His voice was like a dark promise. "You don't get to look at another man. You don't get to entertain his pathetic attempts."

She placed her hands on his chest, trying to push him back, but he didn't budge. Solid. Unmovable. Unstoppable.

"And if I do?" she challenged, her chin lifting.

His smirk widened, but his eyes—his eyes were pure fire.

"Then I'll remind you," he whispered, "exactly who you belong to."

And before she could take another breath, his lips crashed onto hers.

The Devil’s Game