Leyla's heart stuttered. She wasn't supposed to feel this. Not the way his eyes burned holes into her skin. Not the way her stomach flipped with just his voice. She averted her gaze, refusing to meet those intense eyes.
But Ozan noticed.
He always noticed.
Without hesitation, he stepped forward, his hand wrapping around the back of her neck—firm, claiming, unignorable.
Leyla's breath hitched.
"Look at me," he demanded, but she didn't.
So he didn't wait.
Before anyone could react, Ozan yanked her closer and crushed his lips against hers in front of everyone—the guards, the maids, the silence.
The world blurred.
His kiss was deep, possessive, raw—a statement no one could misunderstand. Her hands instinctively pressed against his chest, not to push him away… but because her knees were giving out.
When he finally pulled back, his voice dropped to a whisper only she could hear.
"Don't ever look away from me again, Leyla. You belong to me… and now they all know it."
Leyla stood frozen, chest heaving, her cheeks burning with heat and fury and something she didn't want to name.