Sultan:Her Desired Man(18+)

Yellow roses~~

Mahi

I’m Mahi. Sheikh Hamsa’s daughter. Yeah, the Godfather’s daughter. Sounds like a dream? Nah. My life has been a horror show ever since Mom died. Everything between me and Dad went to shit after that. And then came Sultan—the man Dad planned to use like a weapon. My so-called future husband. The guy everyone thought I’d marry.

A few days before the wedding, I’d screamed at my father like a lunatic. Cried, begged, yelled. “You can’t do this! You can’t just… sacrifice your own daughter!”

He’d looked at me, dead eyes, calm as a fucking storm.

“You were born for this,” he said, like it was the most normal shit in the world. “Meant to be sacrificed.”

I almost puked.

Then he started bragging about Sultan—his ultimate creation. My father’s human weapon. A guy who looked human but could do the worst things anyone could imagine. Dad talked about how Sultan would rule the underworld, how my marriage to him was “exclusive,” like I was some prize. I wanted to scream. I wanted to run. I hated every fucking word.

And now, I looked at my  husband, Kaisar. The man who actually married me. The man I loved, who risked his life to take me away from that nightmare. He was painting quietly in the living room, and I felt a little calm just watching him work.

“You’re staring again,” Kaisar said, glancing up, a little smirk on his lips.

“I still can’t believe we’re… married. Living together,” I admitted, sinking into the sofa.

He chuckled. “I can’t either. That sick bastard actually agreed to this. I still can’t wrap my head around it.”

I nodded. “Even when I went crying to him… dead eyes, expressionless. I was terrified. How could I live with someone like that?”

“He’s dangerous. That doesn’t make him good. He’s a monster. He literally destroyed someone’s life and left her on the streets. And that’s just one of his… hobbies.”

We heard a scream then. Pathetic, weak, pleading. Kaisar sighed.

I bolted for the basement—the one place I’d avoided all these months. My stomach twisted. The basement was a nightmare. Blood everywhere. And in the middle… Sultan. Tank-like, massive, whipping a man who looked like he’d been beaten into near nothingness.

I swallowed hard. My father had wanted me married to this? Was he even human? What part of him was human? All month, living in his world, I hadn’t seen a single hour without him committing… genocide.

And now, he was madly hitting this poor guy, probably dead by now. I swallowed my fear and called out, voice shaking: “Sultan!”

He turned. Eyes like fire, cold and calculating. “You’re here?Didn’t I make it clear? You don’t step into my space.”

I clenched my fists. “I live here too. You should remember that.”

He chuckled, dark, teasing. Picked up his shirt. “Or… maybe you’re actually starting to care about me while pretending to hate this marriage?”

I almost spat at him. “There’s nothing about you to care for!”

He smirked like it was the funniest thing in the world. “Better. But if I ever catch you playing me… I’ll bury you and your that painter husband six feet under.”

I froze. He just walked off. “For the world, we’re husband and wife. But only you, me, and Kaisar know… that day under the veil? That wasn’t me.”