She thought he was perfect, but perfect doesn't exist. Alex had never been in love. Never been kissed. Never even held a boy's hand. So when Ben (the charming, confident, older man) swept into her life, it felt like fate. He said all the right things. Made her feel special. Claimed he was keeping her safe. At first, she believed him. When he checked her phone, it was because he cared. When he told her what to wear, it was because he loved her. When he got really angry, it was her fault, wasn't it? She should've known better. Shouldn't have talked to that guy. Should've texted back faster. Should've listened to him. Then the first slap came. Then the apologies, and promises it wouldn't happen again. But it did. It kept happening. Ben doesn't love Alex. He owns her. And she's learning, slowly and painfully, that love doesn't leave bruises. Love doesn't monitor your every move. Love doesn't isolate you from your friends and family, punish you for breathing the wrong way, or force you to beg for kindness that never lasts. But by the time she sees it for what it is, she's already trapped. And Ben doesn't plan to let her go. Not without a fight. ⚠️TW⚠️Domestic Violence ⚠️TW⚠️ Sexual Assault ⚠️TW⚠️ Emotional and Mental Abuse This is copyright so if you see anyone taking my book please help a girl out and let me know. I've worked so hard on this. I recommend not reading until your 18 but I know y'all won't listen. Just be aware this book contains sensitive topics

She thought she had escaped. A new country, a new name, a child she swore to protect - yet every heartbeat still carried his shadow. He was never gone. He let her believe in freedom, let her build her fragile world, only to shatter it when he returned - broken, scarred, but more dangerous than ever. Because his ruin is only another cage, and she and her child have always belonged inside it. She built a new life. He built a new cage. ---

"Stop... please..." Her voice was a raw whisper, but it didn't matter. He didn't care. He never cared. The tears flowed freely down her cheeks as he moved, his every action a reminder of the power he held over her, the control he exerted with every violent thrust. She couldn't move, couldn't fight him. The pain, the humiliation-she was trapped in his grip, lost in the nightmare that never seemed to end. "No..." She gasped, her heart racing in terror as she cried out, begging him to stop, to let her go. But her pleas were nothing more than a distant echo, swallowed up by the darkness of her own mind. Aarya's breath quickened in the nightmare as she relived the pain, the helplessness, the shame. The cold, indifferent silence of the room consumed her, and her mind screamed for a way out, for someone-anyone-to save her. But no one came

"Are you alright, baby?" His voice was deceptively soft, a cruel mockery of concern. Aashvi's breath hitched. She curled into herself, her voice barely audible. Tears formed in her eyes "Why are you doing this to me? Please... just let me go. I didn't do anything." Veer didn't answer. Instead, with a snap, he shut the laptop and stood. His movements were slow, deliberate-like a predator taking its time before pouncing. She flinched as he stepped toward her, her pulse hammering in her ears. She pressed herself against the headboard, gripping the duvet as if it could shield her from him. "P-Please... stay away," she stammered, her voice trembling. Her mind is struggling with the thoughts how can she save herself from a monster like him. Her innocenct heart is screaming with terror. He will do very bad with her!! He will do that- She can't say that terrible thing. He arched a brow, his head tilting slightly. "Now you're afraid of me?" His voice was cold, emotionless, but there was something unreadable in his eyes. Warning ⚠️ Mature, torture, dark scenes, traumatic past. So if you are not comfortable or not fond of this type of story. So please don't read it. English is not my first language so don't comment on improving my writing skills. Just Focus on the content not on the language or mistakes. Also don't comment badly because I can't tolerate anyone's bad comments. So I already warned you :⁠-⁠)

BOOK ONE: FEROCIOUS LOVE CHRONICLES A wedding meant for love... stolen by madness." _______________________________________ Him: "Who deserves punishment, biwi?" Her: (barely audible, heart pounding) "M-me..." Him: (tilting her chin up, voice dark and unwavering) "And where, biwi? On our bed... or in the ashes of the man who dared to crave what's mine?" Her: (whimpering, body trembling) "P-please..." Him: (low chuckle, deadly possessive) "No, biwi. Please what?" He leaned in, his breath a sinful caress against her trembling lips. "Please what, baby? Use your words." "Beg me to break you. Beg me to make you mine-completely-until even your soul moans my name." His grip tightened, his fingers tracing fire down her skin. "Say it-" Her: (shuddering, surrendering) "Yours..." His lips hovered, his voice a dark whisper, laced with devotion and madness. ________________________________________ "You are the prayer my soul has bled for through lifetimes." "The flame my darkness bows before." "The only truth my chaos kneels to." "And now, biwi, you are bound to me-not by fate, not by destiny-by me." This isn't just dominance. This is obsession, possession, destruction, and worship-wrapped in the most sinful kind of love. Get ready to step into a world where love turns lethal, obsession burns wild, and surrender is the only escape.

He wanted her scared. He wanted her desperate. He wanted her begging. Her on the floor, knees spread, dress pushed up, legs trembling while he loomed over her. Tears in her eyes as she whimpered his name. His hand tangled in her hair, forcing her to stay still while he... Those delicate legs? Made to be opened by him. His hands. His mouth. His torment. His bliss. He'd keep her in silk gowns and lock every door. He'd feed her, bathe her, cradle her... And then bend her over and breed her again.-her beneath him, crying out his name as he forced her open, spilling himself so deep inside her that her body would never forget. Watching his seed drip from her thighs only for him to push it back in, growling that it belonged to him. He imagined her swollen with his child, belly soft and round, marked by his hands, his teeth, his scent. Everyone would know and see it. She is his muse, his heaven and he is her cage. :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: Primrose was meant to bloom. Instead, she was plucked-young, unripe, and fed to a world that devours girls whole. In a time where men held every law, every title, and every key, sixteen-year-old Primrose Everdell becomes the price of her father's illness. A devoted servant to the powerful family, he is now bedridden, helpless. And when the patriarch offers a "solution"-marriage to their eldest son-Primrose is given no voice. Only silence. Only duty. Her girlhood ends in the bedchambers of Styles Manor, where screams echo down stone halls and no one dares interfere. Her days blur into the quiet horror of submission. Her nights into the claws of a husband she cannot understand - and who does not understand her. . Perhaps she was never meant to be understood, only possessed. Why her? Why must she suffer for the sins of power? Trapped in a world where innocence is currency and silence is survival, Primrose must find meaning in a life written for her by others - or risk losing herself entirely.

Victoria Petrov appears to lead a perfect life as the wife of billionaire artist Vladimir Petrov, celebrated on social media for their glamorous lifestyle. Vladimir is not only known for loving his wife, he is a celebrated philanthropist whose changed and saved multiple people's lives However, behind the facade, Victoria is trapped in Vladimir's obsessive control. Only she sees his dark side while the rest of the world experiences the best of him. As his troubling past unravels and family secrets emerge, Victoria discovers the true cost of being her husband's muse. ------- Disclaimer: This book is not for the fainthearted. It touches heavily on mental, emotional, physical, and physiological abuse. Please be cautioned.

She is just a girl who wants a life where no pain exists but life has another one planned for her. Afsana Bansal was getting married with Isharth Purohit but on the wedding day he was gone. She married her elder brother Dhritaansh Purohit who was mysterious , toxic and rich. She had no idea that her destiny and she was her self claimed by a devil. ---------- Afsana took a deep breath and said, "Can I join college again? Just a month before the wedding, Papa had stopped me from going, but now can I-" She was about to say more when suddenly a soft cry escaped her lips. She immediately looked at her hand. Dhritansh's grip on it had become much stronger than before. He was looking at her without any expression. Afsana quickly looked at him and said, "Dhritansh ji, what are you doing? It's hurting me." Dhritansh replied in the same tone, "What were you saying?" Afsana wasn't even focused on speaking anymore. She kept looking at her hand, trying to free it. Finally, she shouted, "Dhritansh ji, stop it!" Dhritansh seemed to snap out of it all of a sudden. He looked at her hand and said, "I'm sorry, Gulabo. I'm really sorry." Saying that, he gently kissed her palm and looked back at her face. Afsana stared at him in surprise. Dhritansh placed his hand on her cheek and asked, "Did it hurt too much?" -----------

"You just have no idea." His voice was thick with restraint. "W-what," I breathed. His gaze flicked to my lips as his thumb stroked again. The calloused pad against my soft flesh sent goosebumps down my arms. His once warm eyes were dark as they lifted and bared into my soul. "What you do to... men." His husky whisper weakened my knees. I almost fell but his other hand settled on my hip, pulling me closer to him. "What you do to me," he added on a breath. The hand on my jaw shifted. His fingers left trails of tingles as he slipped them back slowly, under my earlobe and into my curls. *************************************************** As a young girl, Charlotte Avery's favourite pass time was daydreaming about her Prince Charming: Archer Johnson. She never stopped to consider that Archer was her brother's best friend.. Or that he always appeared severely creeped out by her attention. On her 16th birthday, Charlotte received a harsh reality check. Realizing just how embarrassing she had been acting, she swore to never make a fool of herself in front of Archer again. The problem? She is about to head to college and unfortunately it's the same school where Archer is currently the star quarterback. Follow Charlotte during her first year at USC as she juggles new experiences, social anxiety, family drama back home, and avoiding Archer. These are the unintended consequences of an embarrassing childhood crush. *************************************************** Top Ranks: #1 - Hot #1 - Collegeromance #1 - Brothersbestfriend #1 - Football #1 - Brooding #1 - Slowburn #1 - Quarterback #1 - Athlete #2 - Newadult #2 - Player #5 - Badboy #73 - Romance ***************************************************

BOOK 2 OF THE OBSESSION SERIES : An 18+ Dark Romance Book. Matteo Armani is a monster in a suit-a Consigliere with no conscience, no mercy, and no limits. His world is painted in blood and shadows, and he revels in the chaos. Obsession is second nature to him, but when it comes to Sophia Robinson, it's not just an obsession-it's a sickness. Sophia is everything he is not-light, laughter, and innocence wrapped in breathtaking beauty. A princess in a golden cage, untouched by the darkness he thrives in. But Matteo doesn't believe in fairytales. He believes in taking what he wants, and he wants her. She should run. She should fear him. But instead, she tempts the devil, pushing boundaries she doesn't understand. And Matteo? He's more than happy to pull her into his madness. Because once he has her, he's never letting go. She's his favorite game. His sweetest sin. His obsession. -------------------------------------------------------- "You're insane," I whisper. Matteo grins wider, a look of pure enjoyment flashing across his face. "Oh, Little lamb," he leans in, his breath warm against my cheek, "I'm so much worse than that." I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to steady myself. His scent-smoke, leather, and something darker-fills my lungs, suffocating me. --------------------------------------------------------------------