Leyla's worst nightmare just came true.
She sits at the dining table, her fork frozen mid-air.
Her mother smiles warmly at Ozan and says, "You don't have to be so formal, Ozan. Just call me Anne from now on."
Ozan blinks. Then smirks.
Leyla chokes on her water.
She coughs violently, grabbing a napkin as she glares at her mother. "Excuse me?!"
Her mom gives her a look."What? He's like a son to me."
A son.
Leyla feels like she's going to pass out.
Ozan, meanwhile, is enjoying this way too much. He picks up his glass of water, his voice smooth as ever.
"Anne, huh?" He tilts his head, looking directly at Leyla as he drags the word out slowly. "Hmm. I like the sound of that."
Leyla grips her fork like she's about to stab him.
"Don't you dare."
Ozan just grins."What's wrong, Ateş? Don't want to be my sister?"
Leyla slams her fork down.
"That is NOT funny."
Her mother sighs. "Leyla, don't be dramatic. Ozan has been nothing but kind to us. You should be grateful."
Ozan smirks, resting his chin on his hand as he watches her reaction. "Yeah, Ateş. Be grateful."
Leyla seethes.
She doesn't even care about the food anymore.
She doesn't care that Ozan is sitting there, acting like he owns the place.
She doesn't care that her mother is completely blind to his evilness.
All she knows is that she needs to get out of here before she loses her mind.