Reyansh was made of softness. small, shy and impossibly sweet . he cries during sad commercials and thinks hug can heal the world Plump pink lips, puffy cheeks, skin that turned rosy if someone even looked too long. He smiled at strangers. Hugged flowers. Apologized to ants. But then Abhimaan singh rathor walked into his life. Cold. Rich. Powerful. A mafia heir with blood on his hands and obsession in his bones. He didn't believe in love. He believed in possession. Now Reyansh lives in a glass penthouse. His flower shop is gone. His freedom, bought. And Abhimaan watches his every move - like a god admiring his favorite creation. > "You were too soft for this world, sweetheart," he whispers. "So I stole you from it." This isn't a love story. This is a velvet trap made of obsession, kisses, and gold handcuffs. Soft boy. Hard man. Deadly love. He smiled at the wrong stranger... Now he belongs to him.

BLURB: The King family raised an angel among demons. I am that angel. The golden boy. The firstborn. The one who keeps the chaos in check. I built my life around duty, shaping myself into the perfect son, the perfect heir. Yet, I was never anyone's favorite. Then, one night, everything shatters. A mistake drags me into a war that was never mine to fight. And at its center stands him- William Volkov. A monster among men. A widower with a son and a past carved in blood. The only man feared more than the devil himself. He should have crushed me under his heel like the rest. Instead, he looks at me like I'm his next conquest. I should run. I should resist. But when a predator chooses his prey, there's nowhere left to hide. #legacyofgod #dark_romamce

What's worse than a blade at your throat or staring down your own death from a cliff? Getting married to Choi Seungcheol - the man even devils prefer to avoid. Yet here I stand, wrapped in silk I didn't pick, under chandeliers brighter than my will to live, listening to vows that feel more like contracts signed in blood. Everyone says this marriage will end a war. Cute. I say it's another battlefield - one I intend to walk across in heels and sarcasm. Because here I am, in a wedding hall dripping in roses and danger, smiling like I'm not actively planning how to make my new husband stop breathing.

"Matryoshka" A doll that learns to love the hands that crack its porcelain and the hands that mend it. _________________________________________ Jeremy had me pinned against the shattered remains of an antique mirror, glass teeth biting into his palms as he struggled to keep his breathing even. "Adorable" Jeremy cooed, pressing the cold barrel of a gun beneath my chin. "You're shaking." A razor-blade smile. "With rage." Lie. My stomach coiled tight as Jeremy's free hand slid under my shirt counting my ribs like a butcher pricing cuts. "Liar." The safety clicked off. "Your pulse is begging me to stop." I forced a laugh, even as my vision blurred at the edges. "Then you're bad at listening." The gun fired into the ceiling and I flinched, shame burning hotter than the gunpowder scent between them. Jeremy licked the tear from my cheek. "There it is." {Jeremy x Landon}