A collection of short stories woven with love, hope, and healing - where every tale touches the heart, every character feels real, and every ending leaves behind a little warmth.

"How dare you!!!" She screamed. And... Slapped him hard across his face. But she had no clue who she was messing, because the next moment, he hissed, "Congratulations. That slap is just going to make you my wife." 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝟏𝟖+ | Romantic-Thriller

"She tried to reach out the fallen star, the one still yearning for a ground called love." Born in a conservative family of UP, famous not for respect but for dangerous things, where women were nothing more than showpieces to be controlled and ordered. Shreevi Mishra never fit in. The more restrictions they put on her, the more she burned to break them. In a house where even listening to songs was a sin, she dared to dream of two impossible things, One, to become an actress. Two, to marry him. But him who? Yuvaan Shergill. Superstar. The calmest, sweetest, humblest man, at least, that's what the world believes. Or maybe that's just what he wants them to see. Afterall is is an actor. Because behind the fame and lights is a man scarred by bitter experiences, a man who has learned to see the world through one lens, money. With a typical mindset, he believes girls only want one thing from him, his wealth. And so, he has vowed to keep them far away. But when God said action, even he was unknown to his part of script. For the most money-minded girl he would ever meet was also the one who refused to leave his side. Shreevi Mishra, his craziest stalker, the girl with brown-crimson eyes who followed him everywhere. All Yuvaan wanted was to get rid of her. All she wanted was to make him fall for her...by hook or by crook.

This story is written mostly in English (about 98%), with some Telugu (about 2%) along with translations. -------- He rose slowly, still holding her hands. She stepped closer. Closer. So close that the boat rocked faintly beneath them. Then, standing on her toes slightly, she reached up and held his shoulders to steady herself. He instinctively moved his hands to her waist so she wouldn't lose balance. The anklets chimed softly and then.. she bent her head forward.. slowly. Her forehead touched his. The red kumkum on her forehead brushed against his skin, leaving a faint, sacred mark just above his brows. He froze. Neither of them moved. Her eyes were closed and his breath stopped.. the contact was simple. Sacred. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper, but steady. "If you are my light," she murmured, her forehead still resting against his, "then let me mark you as mine before the world does." She lowered herself slowly, but didn't move away. Her eyes searched his. "You don't need a ring to bind me," she said softly. "And I don't need a ceremony to know what you mean to me." Her fingers brushed the red mark she had left on him. "This," she smiled faintly, "is my answer. My acceptance." His fingers tightened unconsciously around her waist. "I am yours," she whispered. "And you are mine. Not for a moment. But for every day that comes after." And she slowly moved into his embrace and hugged him, holding him a little tighter than usual, like she never wanted to let go. They stayed there for a while longer, not speaking. Everything you're about to read is true... but I've never confessed to him in real life. The story ends with a plot twist my real life hasn't caught up to yet. Happy reading 🩷

'𝙄𝙨𝙝𝙦 𝙟𝙪𝙣𝙤𝙤𝙣 𝙟𝙖𝙗 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙨𝙚 𝙗𝙖𝙙𝙝 𝙟𝙖𝙮𝙚, 𝙃𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙖𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙦 𝙨𝙪𝙡𝙞 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙙𝙝 𝙟𝙖𝙮𝙚' After crossing the first phase of love, they now stand at the edge of a new journey-one that will test their hearts and devotion in ways they never imagined. "Like the moon awaits the sun after a long night, her heart held onto his light through every shadow and silence."