A simple mistake by a rental agency turns 20-year-old Anika's dream of studying in Italy into an unexpected adventure. Believing she was moving into a house with two female roommates, the pampered princess from Punjab is horrified to discover her new home is shared with four intimidating, older male students. The leader is -a man so strict and dominant, his very aura commands fear and respect across the entire campus. To Anika, with her love for bunking classes, short dresses, and a cursed vocabulary, he is an infuriating obstacle to her fun. To him, she is a beautiful, reckless brat whose safety and well-being instantly become his sole responsibility. Glimpse: Anika tiptoes behind Vikram as he stirs something in a pan, her bare feet silent on the cold tiles. She's wearing one of her ridiculous frocks again - all ruffles and rebellion - and her hair is a wild halo from the breeze she let in earlier. She pokes his side. Not hard. Just enough. Anika (grinning): "Chef Rathore, do you take bribes in kisses?" He doesn't turn. Just pauses, lips twitching into that rare, reserved smile - the one no one else ever gets except her. Vikram (softly): "Only if they come with silence." She gasps, mock-offended, and pokes him again. He catches her wrist this time, gently, and presses a kiss to her knuckles without looking.

He wasn't supposed to touch her. Yet here she was in his arms, held like she belonged there, like she had never been meant to stand anywhere else. "Put me down..." Arohi whispered, her voice trembling despite the strength she tried to hold on to. Her hands pressed lightly against his chest, a weak attempt to create distance, but his grip only tightened, not enough to hurt, just enough to remind her that he wasn't letting go. "You still think you have a choice?" His voice was calm, almost soft, but something darker lingered beneath it, something that made her breath hitch. She looked up at him, and what she saw in his eyes wasn't anger or care, it was something far more dangerous. Something that didn't ask. Something that claimed. Years ago, he had left without a word. Everyone thought it was his choice. But the truth was, he left to protect her from himself, from the way his gaze lingered too long, from the darkness inside him that whispered her name like a sin. He thought distance would bury it, that time would erase it. But obsession doesn't fade. It waits. It grows in silence. And now he was back. Standing too close, holding her too tightly, looking at her like he had already crossed a line she didn't even know existed. "I did that once," he said quietly. "Let you go." His hold tightened just slightly. "Not again." In that moment, Arohi understood something she should have realized the second he walked back into her life. He didn't come back to stay. He came back because he couldn't stay away. Because the darkness he once ran from now wanted her. Not gently. Not safely. But completely.

Chaos Period: Attendance Low, Problems High Arnav came to his new school with one goal: Stay invisible. No fights. No drama. No chaos. That plan lasted exactly one day. Because on his first day- he accidentally slapped a senior. Now he's stuck with the worst possible group: A fight-loving hype machine, A walking panic attack, A guy who's always ten steps ahead, And someone who sees patterns in everything. Rumors are spreading. Videos are everywhere. And the "quiet new student"? Yeah... that's not him anymore. Because in St. Jude's High- Chaos doesn't wait. It picks you.

"The Mob Boss and His Sister's Best Friend" Riley Owens, the innocent, and beautiful girl who had always been smart and caring. She has always had a great life especially when she had met her bestfriend from elementary school, Amara Christiano. Amara was always there for her and told her everything, except one secret she vowed to always keep-her brother. Stephano Christiano, the man Amara has been running away from, has returned for revenge. In hopes for killing the girl he despises most, he is struck by the waitress beauty-Riley, causing all his plans to suddenly turn. • "Don't lie to me, Baby. I know things- things that will f*ck up that little, innocent mind you have," He calmly spoke, although it only masked the anger he truly felt. "I-I'm not, I promise!" She pleaded out, hoping he caught the desperation in her voice. His hand reached up and wiped a tear from her eye she didn't know had fell. "Strip." Cliché? I think not. - ➳ AVAILABLE ON DREAME ➳ Sexual Content ➳ Graphic Violence ➳ Bad use of language #3 in romance ❧ 8/13/17 This book is in English, sorry if it confused anyone.

A 1900 era bl...... As you read the title, "Umr Se Pehle" this story is based on how a child have to grow up before his age........ drive into the story to know more......

It's a love story between a bava and his mardhal... a bond that was never supposed to cross the line, yet always hovered close to it. Jahnavi Rao - Rudra's mardhal. Twenty-three, sharp, soft-hearted, studying MBA in Hyderabad. She's loved him for as long as she can remember.... quietly, hopelessly, endlessly. Rudra Pratap Reddy - her bava. Twenty-eight, the village president, an MBA graduate, and the owner of a powerful company in Hyderabad. To him, Jahnavi was always a responsibility... until one day, she became something more. When did Rudra realise his love for the girl he swore to protect? How many storms will they face to stay together? And how far will they go for a love that was written long before they understood it? Let their story begin... 💗💫✨

She was the bride and then she become a wife . The perfect life, the perfect family, the perfect wedding, the perfect partner. But things changed and she became the widow the very next moment in the same place she became a wife, a bride. She is cursed, she is widow. Nobody will take her or????? All copyright reserve to me. so dont think of copying my work. story contain mature themes. # 1 in REPLACED ON -12/09/25 #4 IN SOUTH INDIAN ON -12/09/25 # 17 IN SECOND MARRIAGE ON -12/09/25

Aksh, the beloved son of Mumbai's famous wealthy Verma family, is only 17 years old. What happens when Bhairav Pratap Rathod, a mafia boss from Rajasthan, sees him and becomes infatuated with him? The Verma family arranges Aksh's marriage with Bhairav. The uproar occurs when the boy, Aksh, flees to America to avoid marriage. Bhairav catches him. Aksh: I don't want to marry you!!!!!!...... (Tears were streaming down Aksha's fair cheeks. He spoke while taking a step back.) Bhairav: It doesn't matter to me. You're mine, and I'll soon make you mine. (The broad-chested man snapped his fingers.) "Let go of me." Before Aksh could retreat, he lifted the little boy into his arms.

hi........ This isn't just a single story. I'll be posting a different short story once a month. (Different story different name different character different genre) The stories could be BL, GL, straight, or even outside the romance genre. The themes will be intense and heavy (very heavy and raw) so I suggest thinking twice before reading. Since each story is different, I won't be able to give specific warnings in advance. Every story will have a unique ending some happy, some dark but I promise you'll love them. Enjoy✨

"What are you?" the older man questioned, his voice a chilling blend of authority and amusement, like a knife wrapped in silk. "Your wife," I replied softly, my tone laced with the submission he seemed to crave. "No," he murmured, his lips brushing mine, the words a dark caress that sent shivers through me. "You are my doll, milaya." He towered over me, his intimidating presence both suffocating and intoxicating. The nickname, spoken in that deep, accented voice, wrapped around me like a chain I couldn't help but love. "You are the only woman who is allowed to warm my bed at night," he said, his voice a dark melody, smooth but unnerving. "The only woman who's allowed to step into my office and bend over my desk, waiting for me to come home so I can fuck you." A cold, low chuckle rumbled from his chest, the sound as sinister as it was intoxicating, sending shivers down my spine. ♡ Dimitri Mikhailov, the russian mobster. His presence filled the room like a storm. He didn't have to move or speak to dominate the room. Broad-shouldered and imposing, his scarred face told a thousand stories that he'd never waste words on. He was my husband and I was his precious doll.