Dilan Malik was the epitome of beauty and innocence. Pure, untainted, radiant-a fragile bloom in a world that often demanded thorns. Rudra Sagar Rathore was the opposite: cunning, ruthless, a snake slithering through the corridors of power. Betrayal was his signature, and manipulation his art. And now, he had set his eyes on her-not her, but the empire her name carried. The elections. The money. The power. That was his goal. Her body, her soul, her trust-they were just tools in his hands. She didn't know the kind of storm that was coming. She only wanted one thing: someone to erase the weight she had been carrying alone, someone to lift her from the ruins of a family collapsing like an old, fragile vase. ..... Notification came The one that shattered her world. A video of her surrendering herself willingly. Of her body, her trust, her innocence... all exploited, all public, all viral. She loves him beyond anything and here he make a show of her trust and love... His face? Hidden. Blurred. An enigma wrapped in shadows. But hers? Her body became the world's possession. .. "I hate myself for loving him," she whispered through tears, clutching her belly where the seed of his betrayal is breathing with her Abira's hands were on her, bloodshot eyes reflecting horror, helplessness, rage. Her baby sister... reduced to a headline. .. Falling for her was never on his list. But here he was-mad, possessive, captivated, loving her like a storm loves the shore. .... He hated her faith. He hated the mere existence of Muslims. She... saw humanity in everyone, lived it for the sake of Allah, even as the world crumbled around her. And now, their fates were entwined-her innocence, his obsession, a viral scandal that could destroy everything. Somewhere between power and betrayal, love and hate, the world waited. And it was ready to watch it all burn. ---

Myra sharma had heard his name before she ever saw his face. Armaan Brar. The President of Chandigarh National University. Final-year Political Science student. RSVP's rising youth face. The boy professors avoid. The one students don't look in the eye. The one whose footsteps are enough to silence a corridor. They say he once pulled a gun on campus. They say he wins elections the way he wins fights... ruthlessly. They say crossing him is a mistake you don't repeat twice. And she believes every word. She's just a first-year B.Com student. From a Middle-class family, She left Lucknow with dreams in her suitcase. Chandigarh National University was her dream. Her fresh start. Her escape. Living alone in a new city wasn't easy but she was determined. Far away from politics, power, and people like him. Her only goal? Stay invisible, don't get noticed by bullies in college.. But Armaan Brar notices her. And that's where the problem begins. And Armaan Brar has never been gentle about what he wants. Tropes:- - punjabi x hindu - college president x simple student - first love - rich guy x middle class girl - 6 years age gap (Please don't judge my book with this description there is a lot more about Armaan and Myra, give it a chance...it's my first story)

Anamika Pradhan, a former criminal lawyer turned political wife, has learned how to disappear gracefully-running a women's NGO, raising two children, and protecting her husband's rising political career in Mumbai. When a public scandal exposes his infidelity, her carefully maintained silence becomes a liability. Forced into the glare of media and power politics, Anamika must decide whether to continue playing the "good wife" or reclaim the legal mind she once buried-and the truth she's no longer willing to defend for someone else.

[PARTITION ROMANCE] 18+ She is a mute. He is a politician. And 1947 is burning around them. After surviving a brutal assault and losing her only family, Vrishty, a voiceless Hindu girl, is left alone in a town tearing itself apart. Hunted by the man who first claimed her, she hides in silence, until Meer, an emerging Muslim politician, becomes the only barrier between her and the chaos outside. Bound by guilt and an unexpected pull, Meer begins to realise his vicinity with the girl. But the nation which divided amongst the communal hate, will it be able to save these burning interfaith hearts, alive? __________________________ "In Islam" he continued quietly. "You cannot marry unless both agree... and unless both are Muslim" His expression twisted, a deep aching conflict. I shook my head, looking at him. As if almost pleading him. Noo...please....

"I want a divorce," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "What?" she asked, her heart sinking. "What about the promise you made on our wedding day?" A single tear slipped down her cheek. "That promise was just to save my family's name," he replied coldly, avoiding her gaze. "You lied to me? Is that why you treated me this way all these months?" she asked, her voice trembling with anger and hurt. He remained silent. "Why?" she demanded. "She is back," he said flatly, offering no further explanation. Shivika swallowed the lump in her throat, her pain giving way to defiance. "Fine. I'll give you the divorce you want," she said harshly, wiping her tears before walking out, leaving behind the man who had shattered her heart. Shivika Kapoor(26 years), a bubbly and kind-hearted girl, saw her life fall apart when she became the unexpected bride of Abhimanyu Malhotra(30 years). Abhimanyu, the brilliant and distant star surgeon of Sapphire General Hospital, was admired for his charm and skill but had left Shivika with nothing but heartbreak. Was this the life she had imagined? Was this destiny's plan, or did their fractured bond hold any hope for healing? Both doctors at Sapphire General Hospital, Abhimanyu was Shivika's senior by three years, known for his brilliance and cold demeanor. Shivika, a fresh resident eager to prove herself, had long admired him from afar during her studies. But now, the shadows of their past loomed over them, threatening to destroy any chance at happiness. Fate had brought them together, but could two souls ever truly mend? Or would their lives forever be dictated by pain and unfulfilled promises? Dive into their story to uncover the twists, heartbreak, and hope of a love caught between duty and desire. Highly mature content. Read at your own risk. 18+

Some love stories don't end. They just... break. Years ago, two worlds collided and left behind unanswered questions, unfinished promises, and a love that never got the chance to live. One felt betrayed. The other carried a truth never spoken. Time passed. Lives changed. Now fate brings them face to face again not as lovers, but as strangers with a painful past. What happens when the love you never moved on from stands right in front of you... with a life that no longer includes you? This isn't a story about falling in love. It's about surviving it. ✨ Please read Part One before starting this story.

Her wedding collapsed. His heart already had. When fate binds Nandini Pandey to Sangram Singh Sanger - her brother's stoic commander and a man drowning in guilt - they're thrust into a marriage neither expected. In crossing their own Aag Ka Dariya, they find that sometimes the fiercest love is born from fire.

"He wants what's under my saree❤‍🔥" She's a strict, no-nonsense professor, new to a college ruled by fear. He's a reckless, cruel politician's son who thinks rules don't apply to him. When their worlds collide, control melts, boundaries vanish, and a fire of lust and obsession rages too hot, too wild, and far too irresistible to escape.

Other girls; "Give me a red flag, I'll stitch a saree of that red flag and wear it for my wedding. " She; " Give me a red flag, I'll turn him into the greenest flag ever known. " And she did, change him for good. Arrogance, anger issues, I-Me-Myself, Ego, he had it all, but she made him a calm,considerate,humble,empathetic and loving soul, that he himself never believed he could be. But... The plot twist was; He was nearly a decade and a more older than her. Was is possible to barge the distance of not just years but also the societal norms, judgmental eyes and disdainful talks? Dive in to know about, " 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙔𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙐𝙨 "

Zaya Khurana had learned to be content-or at least to pretend. She was the wife of a millionaire, the mother of three, and the quiet shadow that held their world together. Somewhere between school runs, business dinners, and keeping a home that never seemed to rest, she had stopped noticing herself. There was no joy anymore. No hope. Not even the echo of the marriage she once believed in. Aadhrit Dev Khurana, her husband, no longer looked at her the way he used to-no hunger, no warmth, not even the cold intensity he once wielded so fiercely. He loved control, loved their children, loved his empire... but her? She wasn't sure anymore. He was always busy, always somewhere else. Office. Meetings. The children. Everyone got pieces of him except her. Years of distance had turned their marriage into a silent battlefield-no fights, no words, just a slow, suffocating erosion. He had once been obsessed with her; now he barely noticed she was drowning. And maybe she was no longer the woman he had chosen... but perhaps the cruel truth was that he was no longer the man she had loved.