gauri_975
Love runs deep , hate runs deeper , but blood....blood never lies.
Blood is never silent.
It whispers. It remembers. It punishes.
I grew up hearing the stories-about the Singhania's, about the curse that ran in their blood. My father swore they were devils wrapped in silk, smiling over graves they had dug themselves. I believed him. I hated them.
And then I met krissh singhania.
He wasn't a man. He was a weapon dressed in human skin-cold, dangerous, untouchable. His eyes carried storms, his hands carried sin, and his words bled poison meant for me. I should have stayed away. I should have run.
But fate has a cruel sense of humor.
The night I first saw the body-the skin marked with glowing crimson veins like fire under flesh-I knew the stories weren't just stories. They were warnings. Warnings I ignored the second I let him touch me.
Now my veins burn too.
With hate. With desire. With something darker than both.
This isn't about love.
This is about obsession.
About how two enemies, tied by blood and secrets, can destroy an entire world just to claim each other.
And when the end comes, it won't be hearts that break.
It will be veins. Crimson. Shattered.
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