(Under Editing) This is a Mafia siblings story. It will have some cliche sweet siblings moments. It's not like other Mafia sibling stories, I will try my best to make it as different as possible. It's the night time, everything is silent.A little girl snuggled tightly with his father.A silhouette covers them both and in a blink of eye the little girl is snatched not just from her father but her whole family. Will she ever be able to back to them. Alessa Smith or should I say Alessa Romano. She is a sweet, shy, introvert girl. She doesn't talk much because she has no one to listen to her. She craves for love, family's love. Pierro Romano, the dangerous Mafia man. He has everything he wants except his daughter, his stella. But looks like his wait is gonna end soon ; not just his wait but his 6 sons wait too. Let's join Alessa in her journey. I don't own any pictures in the story. All pictures are taken from Google images. This is my first book so please give it a chance. A bit of violence at the end of book. Insta - icey_vines Started- 18 May 2022 Ended- 25 June 2022

Yaduvanshi Series #3 It is a book under yaduvanshi series. But it could be read as standalone too. Nitya Raghavendra is a telugu businesswoman earning millions but her appearance in news is almost negligible. She is a sweet but sassy lady. She hates to hurt other person but once you are in her bad book, she won't care even if you cry thousand time in front of her. But behind all this, there is a girl who craved for love all her life but what she got in return is betrayal. Her heart always craved for love but fate taught her to live without love. Shivansh Singh Yaduvanshi is the younger brother of the biggest businessman of India. He haven't achieved anything great in his life yet but still he is all over the newspapers and social media, all because of his physique, looks and lavish lifestyle. Every week his name is attached with a new lady. He is known to be the playboy but is he? Let's see how life take turns when they are both tied in an arranged marriage. A beautiful love story with chaos everywhere or a simple married life. PS: All pictures are taken from Pinterest.

I love pink. He loves red. I crave strawberry milk. He craves... an HEIR?! I am just a normal college student. I like coding (badly), cute ribbons, and justice. My biggest problem was supposed to be passing Theology class. But I don't know how I ended up with a heavy diamond ring on my finger. One moment I was trying to hack a bad guy's phone, and the next, I was signing a contract with the Devil himself. Now, I live in his fortress. He treats me like a princess, but he looks at the world like he wants to burn it down. And the worst part? He keeps talking about his "Legacy." He wants a baby. RIGHT. NOW. Excuse me, Sir? I have midterms next week! Does the baby come before or after my exam?! Is it Stockholm Syndrome if the villain is your husband? Asking for a friend.

Gujrat, Pakistan. A town where legacy doesn't die - it simmers quietly, waiting to rise again. Hasna Chaudhary Sikander was born with a name that once ruled the region. Her grandfather, Chaudhary Maqbool Sikander, wasn't just a minister - he was a legend. Three-time Nazim-e-Aala of the union council, unchallenged for fifteen years. People say the sun didn't rise in the valley without Maqbool's permission. But then he stepped down. Not because he lost. Because he chose silence over politics. And in his silence, a new name began to rise - the Haiders. Now, twenty-one-year-old Hasna lives in the ancestral haveli, walls lined with fading portraits and louder silences. Her family hasn't contested in years. Her father, a quiet businessman. Her uncles, comfortable in the background. But respect - that never left the Sikander name. Especially not in Gujrat. And now... another Chaudhary prepares to rise. Chaudhary Shehryar Haider, son of Haider Sr., is only twenty-four. Young, sharp, and ambitious. He wasn't raised to follow; he was trained to rule. And this year, he's stepping into the ring. Posters with his face are already plastered across poles, rickshaws, and chai dhabas. The air smells like politics - thick and heavy. Everyone expects a Haider vs. nobody election. Until fate flips the board. On a dusky afternoon in the old bazaar, Hasna's path crosses his. She's there for fabric. He's there to shake hands. But one gust of wind - deliberate by the universe - sends her dupatta flying... right onto Shehryar's shoulder. Their eyes lock. Her gaze - proud, unreadable. His - calculating, lingering a second too long. Two Chaudharys. Two legacies that were never meant to mix. But what happens when forgotten power meets rising ambition? He's the storm heading for the ballot. She's the silence that once ruled it all. But some silences... return with thunder.

𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑴𝒆 ••• "Did you know how I felt when I learned my wife wants to divorce me through a fūcking outsider?" He asked, his piercing gaze meeting hers through the mirror. His one hand was resting on her stomach, keeping her close to him while the other one touched her head. "This-" He moved the finger from her head to her heart. "-this-" He pulled her closer from his other hand. "-your whole fūcking being, belongs with me, get that?" He asked, raising her chin to make her look in the mirror. She should push him away, she should be telling him how much she hates him but she found herself nodding. "Words." He pressed. "Yes," She mumbled. "What's your name?" "Roop." "What's your name?" He asked again, pronouncing each word clearly this time. "Roop Mehrotra." "Roop. Amrit. Mehrotra." His jaw tightened, "Say it." "Roop Amrit Mehrotra." She breathed out, trying to get away from him but his grip was firm. "Right, and it's going to stay just like that." ••• Two people, one unwanted marriage. The question is, will they survive or give up without even trying? •••

🌌 Whisper's of Destiny 🌌 By @ashii_verse 🖤 "Some stories aren't meant to be told. They're meant to bleed through silence... and leave scars where no one sees." --- Avni. Soft. Subtle. Almost invisible to the world. But beneath her quiet grace lies a storm she's too afraid to name. She doesn't raise her voice. She doesn't ask for more. She simply exists - until he sees her. The man no one dares to look in the eye... yet she meets his gaze with trembling honesty. Rajveer. Sharp mind. Cold presence. A man who speaks less and controls more. He doesn't crave love. He craves silence, control, and order. But there's something about her - the way she lowers her eyes when he speaks, the way her fear doesn't hide her truth - that draws him in like a storm waiting to be unleashed. --- ❝ You look at me like I'm human, Avni... ❞ ❝ But I've spent my whole life making sure I'm not. ❞ ❝ And still... ❞ ❝ You make me want to be yours. ❞ --- This is not a love story. This is restraint and desire at war. A girl too soft for his world. A man too dangerous for hers. And a fate that ties them together - not gently, but violently. He doesn't know how to love. She doesn't know how to leave. And somewhere in the silence between them, something begins to burn... slowly, darkly, beautifully. ✨ Whisper's of Destiny - a haunting slow-burn of longing, power, and a love so quiet... it leaves nothing untouched. ---

A story of forced marriage...

A story of a professor doctor and a med student bound in arranged marriage. FMC JUHI BISHT from a middle class family preparing for her neet pg 23 years old. MMC ARJUN SHEKHAWAT from a very affluent family but keeps a lowkey profile. A professor doctor in Sanjeevani Multi-speciality Hospital, 29 years old this story has no connection with anything or anyone in real life. If found so please ignore it. As a beginner writer there will be a lot of mistakes please bear with me.

#5 in #spiritual 10 Nov, 2024 #1 in #muslim 12 Aug, 2021 #4 in #islam 29 May, 2021 #7 in #Allah 4 May, 2021 #8 in spiritual 15,16,17 September 2016 Thanks for stopping on my story! :D No, this is not a boy marries girl, girl marries boy cliché story... I promise there's more! I've put all my thought and skills to put before the wattpad audience the most misunderstood fact about muslim women in a marriage. The fact that it all ends with abuse and oppression on the women which leads to thinking that muslim women are being oppressed and enslaved in their religion. Afaaf Hameed never wanted a marriage because for all she knew, 'all men are the same', particularity Muslim men. They are all chauvinists. To her, romance, love, feeling butterflies in stomach was all fantasy in today's world and it only existed in the era of Prophets. But what happens when she has forced herself to marry Imran Ameen Khan for the sake of her mum. On the other hand, Imran is head over heels about being married to Afaaf. He has never met a woman more beautiful than her. He tries his best to let romance blossom between them. But little does he know that his beautiful wife has no feelings for him. What will the future of these two hold when their lives are tied together? Will they make it to 'Happily Ever After' or will their hearts split up? ***Not Edited***

~ ZA¥DAN ~ 'Life is a Game of chess' Move in silence only to say CHECKMATE°°° ~ HA¥AT ~ 'Life can be a game of chess' But with a calm mind, Life can be crystal CLEAR°°° ✨✨✨ "Your name"? He asked as he stood up from his chair, taking slow steps towards me making me take steps backward, his voice extremely dark with a slightest bit of anger, his blue eyes roaming to every inch of my body taking his pleasurable time, as his blue eyes stopped at my eyes and met mine amber one, A chill rustled through my spine. Confusion spread across my face as fear engulfed me. Why is he asking my name? Like he don't know, I really wanted to roll my eyes but held the urge in. "Hayat" I replied confidently as my back hit the wall. A dead end. "Full name"? He asked fully invading my personal space as he placed both his hands on each side of wall trapping me in. We stared at eachother in silence. "Hayat Malik" I replied still staring at him. As the words slipped out of my tongue, a small smirk made its way to his lips. This was a simple action but I could sense danger from his eyes. "Aren't you forgetting something Miss...." He trailed off as he took a hold of my face from his right hand, left hand still on the wall. Tinkles spread across my stomach as his hand made contact with my skin. "Hayat Zaydan Malik" He completed and with that he slammed his lips against mine. ✨✨✨ Just two words took to break everything, Misunderstandings aroused, Their friendship broke, Their bond broke along that unknowningly they broke too. She was in love with her cousin, Her only best friend, Her ZAY. He was in love with his other cousin Rameen. ✨What will happen when they will come face to face after whole 5 years? ✨What will be the end of the pure bond called 'NIKKAH'? ✨Will he get RUBARU with his real ISHQ? Stay tuned with ZA¥DAN x HA¥AT! Allah Hafiz! 1# possessive«45.9k» 1# spiritual «31k» 1# LoveHate«10.3K» 1# jealousy«38.2K