A silhouette. There. At the edge of her bed, no more than three feet away, seated on the only chair in the room. She blinked again. No. But there he was. Kim Taehyung. In her room. At 3:30 in the morning. Sitting too still, too comfortably-as if this were his space. The shadows danced around him, painting sharp lines along the ridges of his cheekbones, and his legs were crossed leisurely like he had been here for a while. And in his lap- Her dress. The dress. The one she bought after her first paycheck. A muted blush satin, simple, elegant... but expensive enough that she had hesitated for ten minutes before buying it. His long fingers were brushing the hem of it now, slow and possessive, like he was cataloguing its texture just to make her feel something. Y/N's mouth parted, but no sound came. She sat up slowly, blanket clutched to her chest. Her skin flushed with cold and confusion. "How-how did you come in?" He looked at her then. Eyes narrowing ever so slightly, as if she had asked the wrong question. "Your lock," he said, matter-of-fact. "Is a joke." She stared. His tone didn't change, but his gaze darkened, sharpening like a hunter with too much time. "You're practically inviting predators." He rose slowly-uncrossing those long legs, setting the dress down on the bed beside her, silk whispering across her sheets. Then, with the careful pace of a man completely sure of his control, he walked toward her. She didn't move. Couldn't. Taehyung crouched next to the bed. The distance between them collapsed in an instant. His nose brushed her cheek. His breath fanned across her neck. Then- "To rape you," Updates: 12AM ⚠️ Soft hearted, emotionally weak, cry easily, easily overwhelmed by emotions, believes in good in people, loves too deeply, too quickly, feels guilt like storm, breaks at smallest emotional roller coaster, f*cking stay away from this specific book! [Please read the HEAVY WARNING before continuing, you need your mental health, trust me!]

He was intrigued first, amused next, and obsessed at last. For Sin, she was merely an assistant to one of his flings until the day she dared to meet his gaze. The moment their eyes collided, a thunderbolt of desire flushed through his veins, nearly knocking him off his feet. He had never seen a pair of eyes as breathtaking as hers. He was obsessed. With her every smile, the gangster found himself spiraling deeper into the depth of his obsession with her. Obsessed to the point nothing mattered to him anymore. He was determined to own her regardless of consequences; even if it meant breaking her. Nevaeh didn't know she was hugging the business tycoon Sin Volkov when she clung to that stranger to shield herself from the damned cockroach. She didn't know the man she sought protection from was a cold-blooded murderer. And that she had caught his interest. Obsession is fatal but it gets all the more twisted when it involves a mafia lord who knows no fear. Delbe into a love story conspired by a cockroach and reinforced by butterflies.

Dark Romance. Warning!! ** Gunnar aka Humza Ghazali, is a name that sends chills through Mumbai. A ruthless mafia boss, a cold-blooded killer-His presence alone is enough to suffocate those around him. He rules the underworld with an iron fist. He is darkness, deadly and unyielding. Rhythm Hussain, 19, is his complete opposite-a bright, bubbly soul with a smile that could melt ice. Her warmth draws people in, her heart too soft to hold grudges. She is the light, glowing softly in a world that can often be cruel and unforgiving. He is the devil, and she, an angel. Forced into marriage, they are like fire meeting ice, the sun clashing with a dark and cold moon. Their worlds couldn't be more different, yet fate has bound them together. What begins as attraction turns into a dangerous obsession-a battle between light and darkness. In the end, who will be consumed by the fire? ** Warning! 18+ Abusive content! Sinful Pleasures✅ Raw Need✅ Age gap✅ Pure Obsession✅ Forced Marriage *** #1 in dark out of 143k stories on 16-08-2022 #1 in Humor out of 210K stories on 14-02-2023 #1 in Mumbai on 16-03-2022 again on 31-10-2022 #1 in innocent #1 in Obsession on 12-11-2022 out of 26k #1 in EroticRomance 22-04-2022 #3 in Drama out of 487k on 22-08-2022

"Leave me alone, Azlan," Shahana choked out, her voice tight with anger and despair. "I'm not going anywhere with you." Ignoring her pleas, Azlan reached for her wrist, his grip firm but not brutal. Shahana flinched, the memory of countless similar moments flashing before her eyes. She tried to pull away, but his hold was unwavering. Desperate, she cast a pleading glance at her father, who stood frozen, his face a mask of conflicting emotions. His wife reached out to comfort him but was stopped by a subtle shake of his head. "Azlan, listen to me," Shahana said, her voice shaking. " I don't want to be in this relationship anymore. I want a divorce." The words hung heavy in the air, met with a tense silence. Azlan's jaw clenched, his eyes hardening. He wouldn't let her go, not without a fight. Yet, amidst the fire of his determination, a flicker of pain flickered across his face. Shahana, emboldened by the spark of vulnerability, shifted her gaze towards her in-laws. "Baba," she pleaded, her voice trembling slightly. "Please ask Azlan to stop. I don't want to leave with him." Azlan's father, a man known for his calm demeanor, took a hesitant step forward. "Azlan," he began, his voice measured. "Perhaps we should all..." Before he could finish, Azlan cut him off, his voice laced with a controlled fury. "No, Dad. This is a private matter. Let us handle it." Even in the heat of his emotions, respect for his family shone through. He may be a ruthless businessman, but he wouldn't disrespect his father, the one person he truly valued. However, on this issue, he was determined to have his way. Ignoring everyone, he marched towards his car, grabbed her arm, and ushered her into the passenger seat. Without a word, he started the engine and sped away.

She walked into that club ready to sell herself- not for pleasure, not for desire, but because desperation makes even innocence cheap. She expected darkness. She didn't expect to stare straight into the eyes of the devil who ruled it. Aryan Abdullah. A man who kills without blinking, commands without raising his voice, and destroys anything that shakes in fear before him. She shouldn't have seen the blood on his hands. She shouldn't have watched him pull the trigger. Witnesses die in Aryan's world. Always. No exceptions. But she wasn't killed. No- he chose a fate far crueler. He stepped behind her, wrapped his arm around her waist, pressed his chest to her trembling back, and locked her shaking fingers around the gun. "This is hell," he whispered, before forcing her hand to fire the bullet. Her innocence died with the gunshot. Her soul burned with it. Her freedom was buried beneath his claim. "She is mine." The moment she became a sinner, she became his- a possession carved in fear, a witness turned weapon, a girl the devil decided he was going to keep. She wanted to save her father. She ended up belonging to a monster. And Aryan? He doesn't want forgiveness. He doesn't want redemption. He only wants her- terrified, stained, and tied to him with blood she never meant to spill. In his world, hell isn't a punishment. It's a home- and he just dragged her inside.