𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊
In a world where love can be both. Beautiful or destructive force, the Raghuvanshi brothers hide behind the cold facade guarding their heart from the pain of love.
"Just because you are my wife and we share a bed d...
I sit alone in my room and gaze at the picture the housekeeper gave me; it is a striking picture of bright red roses that are softly wrapped in satin ribbon. A deep crimson hue is applied to the velvety petals.Time stops and the outside world becomes insignificant as I fix my attention on the image.
Carefully arranged, the roses radiate a timeless elegance. The satin ribbon, a graceful dance of material, wraps around the bouquet, creating a tender embrace that adds another layer of allure. The colors are vivid and bring back memories of time spent together, and the way the light moves highlights the floral shapes with gentle shadows. It Reminds me of us.
Because In life's garden, I, a longing thorn, yearned to be the tender leaves that embraced her. She, a resplendent rose, graced my existence with her delicate beauty. Though I remained a thorn, unable to fulfill my desired role, our coexistenc held a profound meaning. For even as a thorn, I served as a protector, pricking those with ill intentions towards her, safeguarding her precious petals. For my rose. Just for her.
I shook my head, clearing my mind. With chilling precision, I am assembling the gun piece by piece as each part clicks into place. When I insert the magazine, a disconcerting metallic noise echoes. It feels alive in my hands, a partner in my mission.
I lift it and pull the trigger, aiming for the red target. The thunderous boom echoes, a physical reminder of its deadly potential. The bullet pierces the center of the mark.
I back away with a mechanized efficiency, every metallic click indicating approaching danger. The process repeats, each shot a heartbeat in the ritual. The red target turns into a menacing painting, a death dance in progress.
The room turns into a terrifying theater as I lock and unlock the gun with an unsettling familiarity. The purposeful rhythm of loading, assembling, and firing fills the piercing air with a sense of dread.
The room crackled with a silent energy. The presentation wasn't just a show-off, it was a glimpse into a world of unmatched control. These weren't just weapons, they were symbols of power, extensions of your will.
My gaze swept across the room, urging a decision. "Choose well," I declared. "Each weapon has a purpose, a role to play in your rise to the top. This isn't just a deal, it's a necessity. Take the tools you need to rule."
