I loved her first. She married him anyway. Ten years later, she showed up at my door, broken, betrayed, begging for help to leave the husband who threw her away. She thinks I'm being kind. Helping an old friend. She doesn't know I've been waiting. She never knew how I loved her. Never knew I watched her wedding from the back of the church. Never knew she was the reason I buried my heart so deep even I forgot where. Now she's back. Vulnerable. Trusting. Asking the one man who never stopped wanting her to help her walk away from someone else. This time? I'm not letting her go.

[ Political Heir × Brothel Girl ] "You see this? Take a good, long look." He gestured vaguely at her crumpled form. "Because it's the last time any of you are ever going to see her." Roshini let out a fresh sob. He ignored her. He was addressing the crowd, his audience. "I don't know which one of you sick bastards has been enjoying this, and I don't care. But the party is over. This one?" He leaned down, grabbing her chin and forcing her tear-stained, terrified face up to look at him. "She's mine now." ▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪ I went to the brothel to drag a name through the mud. Hers. They said she was a sin men paid for, so I decided I'd be the only one who touched her life from that night on. I told myself I was punishing a lie, protecting my blood, ending a disgrace. She never cried. Never begged. Just looked at me like I was temporary. I thought I was punishing her. I thought I was ruining her. I went to ruin her life. Instead she ruined me. Slowly ruined me. ◀ | MATURE CONTENT | ▶ ▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪ All Rights Reserved 2026 © Chiya Saxena