#Top5 in India (9/2/2026) #Top4 in India (11/2/2026) #Top4 in India (10/5/2026) #Top3 in India (11/5/2026) ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ His large, calloused hand wrapped gently around my throat-not to hurt, but to own. The cold silver of my waist chain pressed into my bare stomach as he pinned me flush against the heavy mahogany of his study desk. "You think you can hide from me, Little Bird?" His voice was a lethal, gravelly whisper against my ear, sending a violent shiver of wet heat straight to my core. "You think you can wear things that beg to be ripped off, and I won't collect what belongs to me?" I gasped as his rough fingers hooked under the delicate lace of my panties, snapping the thin fabric effortlessly. "Aarav, please-" "Please what?" He bit down on the sensitive skin of my neck, swallowing my desperate whimper. His thick thigh forced my knees apart, leaving me completely, helplessly exposed to his burning, pitch-black gaze. "Tell me exactly what you want. Use your words, Priyanshi." My nails dug into his broad shoulders, my entire body trembling with a heavy, throbbing ache that only he could cure. I looked into the eyes of the devil I married, finally surrendering to his darkness. "Please," I sobbed, my hips arching eagerly into his touch. "Please, Aarav. Take it." A wicked, triumphant smirk touched his lips. "Good girl. Now, scream for me." · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · Priyanshi Verma prayed to Krishna for a fairytale love story. Instead, she was sold to the Devil in a bespoke suit. Aarav Rathore. Billionaire. Mafia king. A man who doesn't know how to love, only how to own. He married her to control her. She married him to save her family. He wants to break her innocence. She wants to escape his cage. But in the darkness of their bedroom, where hate turns into heat and resistance turns into moans, the lines blur. A story of a forced marriage, dark obsession, and a lust so violent it might just look like love. ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

You've always heard the story of an innocent girl falling for the school bully. Sweet.Shy.Soft-spoken. But have you ever heard the story,Of a Queen Bee? This isn't about the fragile girl in the corner.This is about Muskan Kapoor- Blonde curls, blue eyes, and a pink obsession.Feared in the halls of Regal Crest Academy, she's the girl everyone wants to be...Or avoid. The daughter of elite business moguls Vikram and Ariana Kapoor, Muskan was raised like a princess-spoiled, adored, and dangerous when crossed. She's used to ruling, not falling. But beneath the gloss and glitter, she hides a secret- A quiet little crush on the school's dark mystery:Arnav Singh Rathore. The six-foot-four son of the world's most feared mafia. Green-eyed.Cold.Calculated. Heir of Aryan and Riya Rathore-a bloodline that runs with power and danger. Arnav doesn't chase.He hunts. And when he starts noticing the hidden layers beneath Muskan's perfect image...He doesn't fall. He gets obsessed. This isn't a love story. It's a war between pride,power, and passion. Where the Queen Bee falls-but not without dragging the King down with her. For everyone who roots for the villain... This story is for you. teaser : "You should really learn when to shut up," Arnav said, voice low-too controlled. Muskan smirked, flipping her curls. "And you should stop acting like some grumpy uncle. It's getting boring." That was it. In a flash, his fingers wrapped around her wrist, and she was pinned to her car-hard. The air shifted. "You've got a big mouth, princess..." he whispered, his face so close she could feel the heat of his breath. "...and no clue who you're playing with." Before she could speak- His lips crashed onto hers. Rough. Sudden. Forbidden. And then-Everything stopped. 𝕯𝖔 𝖗𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 "𝕴𝖙 sometimes 𝖙𝖆𝖐𝖊𝖘 𝖆 𝖛𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖔 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖆 𝖛𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖓."~𝓜𝔂𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓶𝓲𝓼𝓼

| NOT A MARRIAGE STORY | Never thought I'd see him again. Not after that day at the mall, when I was just a scared little girl, watching everything unravel-watching him lose everything in the blink of an eye. He was 16, unlike me, but so much older. So much stronger in the way he handled the horror, like he was already prepared for the worst. His eyes... they were full of pain, but also a strange kind of resilience. I've thought about him every day since that moment, even though I tried so hard not to. I don't know why, but when I saw him again, as Ridham Kohli-the CEO, the untouchable man-I felt something inside me snap. All the walls I built around myself for years... crumbled. It wasn't just the way he looked, successful and confident. It was his eyes. The same eyes, the same depth. It was like I had known him forever, like I wasn't just seeing him for the first time after all these years, but seeing a piece of my past that never really left me. I thought I could stay away. I thought I could control this-these feelings that were rushing through me. But when he looked at me the way he did, I realized I had no control at all. And then... then I ran. I ran because that old fear, the same fear from that day in the mall, crept up on me. The threats-they were real. I couldn't drag him into this. I couldn't let him get hurt because of me. But the truth is... I don't know how long I can keep running. I don't know how long I can live with this guilt, this pain... this longing to be with him. I've already lost him once, and I don't know if I can survive losing him again. Torn into tears.