❝ 𝐌𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚, 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥❞
𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. Can be read as standalone, but epilogue is gonna keep you intrigued 😉
𝐀𝐛𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐮 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐝𝐚, a Mafia...
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i am so sorry my cute cherries for not updating this story.
it's just that I didn't knew i would achieve this much followers and started randomly uploading stories par stories so now it's tough!😭
my audience is divided into groups. and this group is smaller one but alot more loved by me cause Abhimanyu is the favourite man I have ever wrote and you loving Abhi makes me happiestt!!
sukoonath gaah only has 3 chapters and it will end, and than Twisted Temptation also has 3 more chapters to be written in drafts and than I will be FREE.
acche-acche chapters aayenge I swear, pakkaa wala promise. thanks for the patience 💋
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The bike screeched to a halt, the sound of screeching tyres barely audible over the roar of the wind whipping past us. Hitting us. The faint hum of 2-3 bikes chasing us was a distant echo now. The world around us blurred, but all I could feel was the heaviness of Abhimanyu’s chest pressed against my back. He had pulled me onto the tank in front of him the moment he saw we were being followed, using his tall, broad frame to shield me completely. From anyone watching, it would have looked like he was riding solo, his figure swallowing me whole.
“I won’t let you get hurt, doll,” he whispered into my ear, his voice rough but soft, assuring me with his presence. His breath was warm against my cheek, sending shivers down my spine.
He twisted the handle, and the bike lunged forward at more speed. My heart pounded, the sensation of his strong arms caging me giving me some comfort. But as the speed increased, so did the terror that gripped me. My heart, shaking with fear.
“Abhimanyu,” I gasped, my words barely audible over the engine’s growl. “Do you want to die?”
He chuckled low in my ear, the sound vibrating through me like a teasing echo. Then, without warning, he wrapped me in a soft, secure hug, his lips grazing my cheek in a fleeting kiss. “Hume manzoor hai, doll,” he murmured, a dangerous edge to his tone.
