Cover - 'Qissa E Khayali' on Instagram
Sinscared Series #1
A forbidden love.
A betrayal lurking in the shadows.
And a world built on blood, deception, and vengeance.
Serafina Moretti, the fierce underboss of the Italian mafia, has never let love...
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Power is intoxicating. People talk about it like it's a privilege like it's some gift handed down to the lucky few.
But they don't understand what it means to have power. The way it seeps into every aspect of your life, the way it becomes your prison, a shackle you can never quite shake off.
Most people think power is about control. About making decisions, about calling the shots. But the truth is, power is about responsibility—an unrelenting weight on your shoulders. The more power you hold, the less control you have.
The higher you climb, the more people watch you, waiting for you to fall.
There's this illusion that power gives you freedom. That if you have enough of it, you can do whatever you want, be whoever you want.
But that's the cruelest lie of all. Power doesn't free you. It chains you.
Because when you have power, it's no longer about what you want.
It's about what you're expected to do. Who you're expected to be.
There's always someone watching. There's always a legacy to uphold.
And once you step into that role, there's no going back.
Here we are born into power. We never had a choice in the matter. From the moment we take our first breath, the expectations were laid out before .
We don't just inherit a name; we inherit empires.
And with that came the constant pressure to be perfect, to be ruthless, to be more.
More cunning, more strategic, more powerful than anyone else.
It's like walking a tightrope, every day of your life, knowing one misstep could send everything crashing down.
The conference room in Lucien's penthouse was a stark contrast to the chaos brewing outside.
The panoramic windows offered a deceptive sense of calm, the city sprawling beneath us as if untouched by the violence that had erupted in recent weeks.
But inside, the tension was palpable.
I glanced out the window, feeling the weight of the silence in the room.
The city, a place I had once ruled with certainty and precision, now felt like it was slipping through my fingers.
The streets below held no safety, no sanctuary.
Everything we had built was teetering on the edge of ruin, and I wasn't sure how long we could keep it from collapsing.
The head of the table had two chairs—one for me and one for Lucien.
