On a lavishly decorated altar that diverged luxury, two people exchanged their wedding vows. One was adorned in a stunning red lehenga while the other in a simple blue sherwani. The groom was looking more like a friend honestly. Regardless, Shraddha, the bride, like any typical Indian bride, was excited about starting her new life even though it was an arranged marriage. When the ceremony ended, Pandit Ji instructed Anand; the groom to apply vermillion to her forehead. Shraddha smiled shyly while he leaned to smear it on her. Anand is a renowned doctor who is twice her age that secretly harbors a deep, inexplicable hatred for her. But why? Just when the vermillion touched her forehead, a deafening explosion shook the hall and decorations started crashing to the floor. It made the guests scream and scatter in panic. Amidst the chaos, Anand saw the altar starting to collapse, but he turned and fled, leaving Shraddha behind in it. He didn't care if she lived or died because all he wanted at the time was to escape the burden he had been forced to accept, that is, her! Shraddha saw him running away with the priest. She tried to stand, but her lehenga got caught on a nail, and it trapped her. The next morning, after what should have been their wedding night, Anand's cold words shattered whatever hope she had came with. He made it clear he would never touch her, not even to save her life. His heart, he said, would always belong to his late wife.

The midnight wind howled through the corridors of Rathore Haveli as I ran-barefoot, my bridal dupatta trailing behind me like a wounded bird. My heart pounded louder than the temple bells in the distance. "Stop her! She's running away!" A distant voice roared, but I didn't turn back. The courtyard was deserted, the marble floor cold beneath my feet. A carriage stood waiting at the gates, my one chance at freedom. I gripped my lehenga and surged forward-when strong hands seized my wrist. Rudransh. His grip was firm, his breath uneven. His eyes-once filled with indifference-now burned with something else. Something dangerous. "You're running from me?" His voice was a low growl. Tears blurred my vision. "You never wanted this marriage, Rudransh! So let me go!" His jaw tightened. "Maybe I didn't. But I'll be damned if I let the world say Rudransh Pratap Singh's bride ran away on our wedding night." The challenge in his voice sent a shiver down my spine. My escape plan was shattered, and in that moment, I realized... so was my heart. _________________________________________________________________________________ "RUDVIKA: Bound by Fate" is a heartfelt historical romance set in 1980s Rajasthan, where love and tradition collide. Rudransh Pratap Singh, a rebellious young man, and Shivika Rathore, a woman of grace and conviction, are bound by an arranged childhood marriage. While Rudransh resists the shackles of duty, Shivika embraces fate with quiet strength. As misunderstandings, pride, and family expectations test their bond, will love find its way into their hearts? A tale of love, pain, and self-discovery, where destiny weaves its own story.

Rudraansh Singh Shekhawat ☆ She is so pure. A devastatingly handsome, 6'5", Rudraansh Singh Shekhawat isn't just a politician; he's a king who rules his dark world with an iron fist. His ruthless, brooding presence and piercing gaze make empires tremble. He lived his life in cold, calculated control, far from the messiness of emotions, until she stumbled into his line of fire. And now that this possessive lion has set his sights on her, he'll burn the world to make her his. Niyati Sharma ☆ I was just living my life... and then I saw a murder. A 5'7" kindergarten teacher, Niyati Sharma is all soft, clumsy innocence and gentle routines. She's the sunshine, completely unprepared for the storm that's about to consume her. After accidentally witnessing a crime she shouldn't have, her simple, safe life is shattered by the most dangerous man she's ever met. She's terrified of the monster... but she's also the only one who's seen the man underneath. With a dangerously obsessive man like him and a terrified, innocent woman like her, their story is a dark, thrilling, and addictive ride. Want to know what happens when a monster decides he wants a saint? Come join us.

Ira Verma never imagined her new job would land her inside the cold, echoing walls of the Rathore estate-a mansion guarded by silence, secrets, and the brooding presence of the man she's been hired to care for. Devraj Singh Rathore, heir to one of the most powerful families in India, is feared by many and understood by none. Bound to a wheelchair after a brutal attack, he shows no emotion, no warmth... and certainly no interest in the woman tending to him. At least, that's what Ira believes. What she doesn't know is that behind his still gaze lies a storm-dark, obsessive, and dangerously fixated on her. He watches when she's not looking, collects pieces of her she never gave, and burns with jealousy every time his younger brother dares to flirt with her. But Ira has a life outside this mansion. A fiancé her family chose. A future she thought she wanted. Devraj is done pretending. And when obsession begins to crack through restraint, Ira must face a chilling truth: You can only run so far... when the one who craves you is already inside your world.

______scene______ I know I'm strong enough to handle it, to carry her, to... ride her on..... well, you know what I mean _______scene_______ Baby, tell me what you want," I say softly, stroking her hair. "I want you... fully. You know what I mean," she whispers, her voice ________scence _______ She's washing her saree, her delicate fingers scrubbing the fabric with quiet focus. I should turn away, but my gaze is locked on her. She dips the saree into a tub of clean water, squeezing out the excess before draping it over a rope to dry. The movement is simple, yet mesmerizing. As she walks inside, I slowly approach the tub. The water she used to rinse her saree is still there. Without thinking, I lift the tub and spill all the water over myself. ____________

It should've ended with distance. A silence. A closed door. But instead, it began here-pressed against a balcony wall, with her breath caught between fear and temptation, and his eyes burning with something far more dangerous than lust. He didn't touch her. Not yet. But the threat of it lingered in the space between their bodies, in the way his chest nearly brushed hers every time he exhaled. She could feel the tension rippling off him, barely contained-like a storm pacing behind his ribcage, just waiting to destroy. "You shouldn't be here," he said, voice rough, low, and shaking with restraint. But he was the one who had cornered her. He was the one who couldn't stay away. And she? She hated how much she didn't want to run. Because this-whatever this was-felt like standing on the edge of something irreversible. "You're my employee," he snapped. As if the label could cage what was already unravelling inside him. "You're a mistake I keep choosing." Her eyes met his-furious, pained, exposed. "I never asked you to," she said, but her voice cracked around the lie. His hand lifted slowly, brushing the side of her jaw with a touch that contradicted everything his words said. Possessive. Tender. He stared at her like she was the very thing he was never meant to want-and the only thing he couldn't stop needing. "I've spent years building walls to stay in control," he muttered, his thumb grazing her lower lip. "You walk in and wreck all of it... without even trying." She swallowed hard. This wasn't love. This wasn't even hate. This was obsession-raw, electric, and utterly doomed. And as his lips hovered over hers, trembling with the weight of a thousand wrong intentions, they both knew- 🥀It started with a look. It spiraled with a touch. And before they could stop it, they were already each other's greatest undoing.

I cradled him tenderly against my chest, his tears falling into the gentle folds of my kurta's neckline. "Nayan," I whispered. He only tightened his grasp on my waist, his silence speaking volumes. The thought of revealing my knowledge of his love, the woman who had long held my husband's heart, felt suffocating. But I remained silent, savoring the warmth of our first tender touch, our first embrace, as I held him to his vulnerability.

He tore open her blouse, his voice a dark, possessive growl. "Ab tu meri hui..." ["Now you are mine..."], "...teri har saas..." ["...your every breath..."], "...teri har dadkan..." ["...your every heartbeat..."], "...tera yeh jism..." ["...this body of yours..."], "...in sab mein bus mera haq hain." ["...in all of this, only I have the right."] Vamika stood paralyzed, a silent scream trapped in her throat. Every shred of resistance had been stripped away, leaving only the hollow shell of surrender. She was his to claim, his to break. And as his shadow fell over her, he did. Now he owned her. Completely. Can an arrogant village headman ever truly fall for the daughter of his lender-the woman he married by force? Or will his "love" remain nothing more than a dark, consuming obsession? Will Vamika remain just a pawn in his game, a collateral for debts and power... or can she become something more, something real to him? Can their marriage ever transform from a cold, calculated deal into a true union of hearts... or is it doomed to remain a cage of control and desire?

The story set in 1980's Indian Love story of anita kaashi who belong to poor family as anita's mother work in Royal haveli of singh's raghuveer singh belong to royal family current king who rule all over the country Read to find their love story * pictures are not mine they are from google *

Avyaan Vedang Vishwanathan "He never believed in love. Until she became his wife. Now he believes in nothing else but owning her." ............ Udita Avyaan Vishwanathan. "He felt like danger... but for once, I wasn't afraid. I wanted to fall-if it meant falling into him." ....................... Join the beautiful journey of Avyaan and Udita finding their peace in each other