In the royal courts of Hindustan, Jodha is a beautiful, innocent empress caught between love, betrayal, and obsession. Once in the arms of the man she thought was her soulmate, Jalal, she now finds herself spiraling deeper into a world of darkness, where passion rules and every touch leaves a mark. But the emperor is not the only one who seeks her. Sharif-ud-din, driven by an obsessive craving, wants to possess her at any cost, no matter the price. His twisted love is a dangerous force, as he lures Jodha with promises of freedom, only to bind her in chains of passion. Their love is a war, where betrayal is the currency and nothing is off-limits. In a world where love is a battlefield and betrayal is the ultimate weapon, Jodha must decide: will she remain bound to the man who owns her heart, or will she risk everything for a passion that could destroy her? A tale of forbidden love, dark desires, and the price of obsession, this is not a story for the faint heart.

He tasted her once-now the empire wasn't enough. He wanted her. At eighteen, Jodha Bai was too beautiful for her age-fair as ivory, dark blue eyes like midnight storms, and a quiet pride that made men kneel. She came to Agra for a six-day royal celebration. But to the twenty three-year-old Prince Jalaluddin, she wasn't a guest-she was a prophecy. Private touches under the moonlight. Secret glances behind silk veils. And then- she was gone. Years pass. Empires fall. Queens are married. But no women can replace the girl who slipped through his fingers. Now a feared and undefeated emperor, Jalal has conquered Hindustan piece by piece. Every kingdom bows before him-except one. Amer. And the rose he craves still blooms there. He offers peace through marriage. But her brother denies him. He offers gold. They refuse. So he offers war. Now, with Amer at his feet, the price for peace is Jodha. The innocent girl has become a sharp-tongued, graceful woman. And Jalal is no longer the prince she once teased-he is her husband, her captor, her ruler. But even empires can tremble before the storm of a woman scorned-and the passion that blazes behind closed palace doors. She was the one flower he couldn't pluck. Now, she's in his bed. And he'll never let her leave.