SEQUEL TO ALL THE WRONGS To love is to lose. Your sanity, your reason, your heart, your very being. She had come to understand this truth and had embraced it, not with fear, but with acceptance. Even if she ceased to exist as she once was, whatever she became, she would be his. For only in that surrender did she feel whole. Her will had crumbled, her resistance left in ruins. She was no longer the woman she was. She had become someone else, shaped by longing, claimed by a man who should never been hers to want. Yet her pursuit of him was relentless. A forbidden longing. A chase with no end in sight. But how much longer could she play this game alone? Would he ache for her the way she burned for him? Would the mere thought of her unravel him, setting his veins ablaze with a desire so raw it bordered on pain? Would he know the agony of restraint, the torment of wanting what was forbidden, of needing what he could not have? Or would he walk away unscathed, untouched by the fire that had consumed her whole?

He's 44. She's 25. They say age is just a number. Is it really? ••••• They were never supposed to fall in love, but they did. As their hearts converged, against their will. He was a man defined by his rigid persona, an entity wronged by the past. His sole purpose was to survive in the world where everyone's existence is nothing less than detrimental to your own. Except when it comes to his son, a flicker of hope in his diminished life. The only one whom he loved and lived for. Until it changed when he crosses path with a woman, carrying calmness in her eyes and promises in her words. He wanted to keep her to himself, desired the love which she had immense. The only problem? She was young, way too young.

𝐙𝐚𝐡𝐢𝐫 × 𝐃𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐯𝐢 | 𝟑𝟕 × 𝟐𝟖 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐬: # 𝟐 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 Four years. Ask Zahir Pratap Ravalyan how many days, how many minutes, how many seconds those years hold. Ask me why, despite having everything -power, name, and the throne -I was never content. I was born to rule. Trained to conquer. Disciplined to reign. But now, all I want is to tear away the veil hiding the stranger who wears my wife's face. Because she looks like her. She breathes like her. Yet she is not my wife. Then tell me- Who is she?

𝐙𝐚𝐡𝐢𝐫 × 𝐃𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐯𝐢 | 𝟑𝟏 × 𝟐3 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐬: #𝟏 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐥 She saw him more than once. And every time, her heart betrayed her; racing, stumbling, fluttering like a caged butterfly chasing a memory. Her breath shortened, her chest tightened, and still, she said nothing. Because it wasn't her place. Because she was never meant to be seen. Until she was. Until the day she stood before him, not as a stranger in the crowd, but as his bride. The wrong bride. He had seen her before. Once in passing, her eyes barely a flicker in his peripheral vision, dismissed for a prettier pair. The second time, he saw her through a vow sealed in blood and duty. And rage erupted. Exacting. Demanding. She wasn't supposed to wear that dress. She wasn't supposed to carry his name. But now that she does... There's no turning back.

Two wandering stars colliding, suddenly hitched into the same orbit, bound for eternity. THE SINGHANIA SAGA Book-1 (A standalone) ༻❁༺ I didn't ask for a husband. He didn't want a wife. When I was pushed into an arranged marriage with Vihaan Singhania, who made it very clear he wanted to do nothing with me, I swore, I'd survive it. Keep my head high. And my heart out of it. Except staying out of his way was impossible when he was everywhere. At my midnight dinners. In my bedroom. In my head. Our deal was simple: no love, no feelings, no strings. But the closer I got to him, the more dangerous it became. Because in this game of power and pretense, someone would break. And I was terrified it was going to be me. ༻❁༺

"What is your favourite colour?" Esha asked, her fingers grazing her husband's jaw as she leaned back lazily against him on their couch. "Green," he said in a blink, thinking about her in green. It was sight to watch his wife in green, their first meet was still vivid in his memories. She'd worn a beautiful green anarkali, and a pair of cream jhumkas. The light around in the restaurant helped her to shine like a star along with her twinkling eyes and he'd instantly felt tempted by the woman. "Ey! That's mine." She urged turning her head to meet his eyes. Giving her coy and beautiful smile, that's only and only reserved for her, he cupped her soft cheeks in his palms and pecked her nose, right on the piercing-he so loved, and whispered. "And you are mine, sweetheart."

[ COMPLETE ] One evening by the beach while she sat looking at the horizon and talking to the waves, she met a stranger. She had no clue that - from that very moment her life was going to take a turn! Best Ranking: 23 in "heart" out of 36.2K Started : 2nd September 2019. Completed: 24th November 2019. Editing 1 : 2020

Taranya Singh Chauhan stands between two truths. Both wearing a mask. Which one will she believe? The one wearing the night, or the one doused in light? Will she make a right choice? Or will she make a choice at all? *Content and Trigger warning: This book contains past references to abuse, child molestation, and suicide. Cover Image SRC: Pinterest Cover Image Credit: © Mike Heath

Rudra Rana Singh Rawal was abandoned at the age of two. Stolen name. Stolen identity. Stolen crown. He has lived the life of a thief despite being a Prince. There's only one thing he is surviving for: Revenge. And there's only one person he's living for: His Esther. Who's more important? The reason that's keeping him alive, or the reason he hasn't given up for? He's afraid he'll have to steal one to win another. But revenge is a war. It cannot be stolen. It should be won. And this time, he's determined to rise as a winner. *Content and Trigger warning: This book contains past references to abuse, child molestation, and suicide