Aya Book One of the Shettima Series Dive into the life of Aya Usman Aliyu Shettima. If you think you can handle her story... read on and find out ;) Trigger warning ⚠️ this book hurts. And it doesn't just hurt a little it cuts deep.

It's a sad love story with complications and lots of misunderstanding. At times seems like one sided but both love each other immensely, the only problem is that they have a different love language The love story if saratu and Adam let's dive in to find out what is going to be like....... 💃💃💃

Kyla never believed silence could feel this loud- until she found herself standing face-to-face with the man who ruined her. Ken grey. His eyes held rage, guilt, and something far more dangerous-regret. "Kyla," he breathed, stepping closer. She stepped back. "Don't. You already destroyed everything." But he didn't stop. He never stopped. "I'm trying to fix it," he said, voice low, trembling. "For once... let me." Her heart wanted to run. Her body refused to move. And he was close-too close. "Kyla," he whispered again. "If love and hate brought us here... then fate isn't done with us." She hated how her breath hitched. She hated how he noticed. And he did notice-because his voice softened dangerously. "I'm not letting you break alone anymore." Her heart betrayed her first. Her eyes betrayed her next. But her voice... her voice stayed strong. "You don't get to choose for me anymore," she whispered. He gave a faint, painful smile. "Then choose me... or destroy me. I'll take either." When love is poisoned by betrayal, the heart becomes its own battlefield. Kyla thought marriage would save her... Instead, it dragged her into a world where secrets cut deeper than wounds. And when Ken discovers the woman he's been breaking... is the same sister he once swore to protect- everything explodes. Will Kyla survive the truth? Or will love destroy them both?

She was never meant to be free. She was meant to be his. "You do," Laith said quietly. "Because this world does not look at you the way I do." His hand reached out then-but slowly, deliberately-fingers barely brushing her wrist, as if asking permission even while claiming ownership. His grip was firm but careful, like she was something fragile and priceless all at once. "I won't let anything touch you," he continued, voice low. "Not words. Not intentions. Not people who think they're allowed to breathe the same air as you." Safa's heart raced. "Laith... that sounds like-" "Obsession?" he finished for her, eyes never leaving hers. "Yes." He adjusted her sleeve where it had slipped, the gesture so gentle it almost contradicted the weight of his words. "But understand this," he said, leaning closer-not threatening, not forceful-just there. "My control is not to cage you. It's to keep you safe. And my care?" A brief pause. "That is the one thing I will never restrain." His thumb brushed her knuckles once, grounding, steady. "You are Safa Al-Noori," he said. "And until the day your name changes-if it ever does-no one touches what is under my watch." She was promised to him before she was born. What began as a claim became an obsession. And by the time Safa Al-Noori meets Laith Al-Ansari, she is no longer just fate- she is his.

"The groom is finally here." Khalid's eyes moved to them slowly. Cold. Sharp. "Get out." They hesitated, unsure they heard him right. "I said get the fuck out of my house!" The anger in his voice left no room for argument. Both girls flinched, fear flashing across their faces. Without another word, they rushed past him, nearly tripping over their steps as they fled the room. The door closed behind them. Silence returned - thick and unbearable. Khalid stood there for a moment, just watching her. Ayesha's shoulders shook. Her hands trembled in her lap. She felt his gaze on her like weight pressing her down. Slowly, she tried to stand, her legs weak beneath her. She couldn't breathe properly. She just wanted to leave. Anywhere. Anywhere but here. She took a step toward the door. "Where do you think you're going?" His voice stopped her cold. She swallowed hard, her throat tight, her voice barely a whisper as she answered, "O-out..." Khalid let out a short, humorless laugh. "Aren't you my bride?" he said. "It's our wedding night. Our first night." His tone turned dark. "We should celebrate." Before she could react, he reached out, pulling away her veil. The world tilted. Panic rushed through her veins as he pushed her back onto the bed. "No," she shook her head desperately, tears spilling faster now. "I don't want this. Please-" Her words fell apart on her tongue. He wasn't listening. Hovering above her, his presence felt overwhelming, crushing. The ceiling blurred through her tears. Her hands clenched the sheets, her body stiff with fear. Then something inside her broke. This was her reality now. This was her life. He was her husband. Slowly, she stopped struggling. Her eyes closed tightly, lashes wet, tears escaping anyway. Her lips trembled as she whispered the only words she could find, her voice small, broken, and defeated. "Please... be gentle." a marriage of force. tortured love. love after marriage.

Haniya Zaria Abbas, a 19-year-old university student in Abuja, lives with scars no one can see-but that never truly heal. After surviving a childhood marked by violence, betrayal, and the loss of her mother, Haniya tries to rebuild her life under the care of her older brother, Niam-now successful, powerful, and dangerously unpredictable. In a world where trust is fragile, Haniya finds herself holding onto one silent truth... She never stopped loving Azlan Mutahar. Her cousin. Her brother's best friend. The man who once smiled at her like she mattered-only to remind her she was "just a little sister." He left her behind, married another woman, and disappeared from her life without a goodbye. But just when Haniya begins to accept that some love stories are never meant to be... Azlan returns. Not just as a visitor-but as a lecturer in her university. Older. Colder. Divorced. And this time... he sees her. Not as a child. Not as family. But as a woman. Now trapped between past pain and present tension, Haniya must face a dangerous question: What happens when the man who once broke your heart... becomes the one who wants it back? And even worse- what if he returns at a time when your life is already falling apart?

He was her calm. She was his storm. But storm doesn't only destroy, they also force rain. And rain? It makes things grow.

Anwar was already moving toward her. "Anwar... don't," she whispered. His hand reached for her veil. She screamed, the sound tearing from her throat as panic took over. "Keep quiet!" he shouted, his voice thunderous, shaking the room. She fought back, pushing at his chest, struggling with everything she had. Fear made her hands shake, but she didn't stop resisting. Her breaths came fast and broken as she tried to escape his grip. his father's call came through and puts it on speaker. "What is happening there?" his father demanded. "Who is screaming like that?" Anwar didn't hesitate. "It's my wife-to-be." Nayara opened her mouth to speak, to scream for help-but Anwar's voice cut her off. "Stay quiet," he warned sharply. On the line, his father's voice exploded, ordering him to stop whatever he was doing. Anwar ignored him. Instead, he picked up his phone again and dialed another number. It rang twice. "Nayara?" her father's tense voice came through. "Where are you? Why aren't you home?" She tried to answer. "She's with me," Anwar said instead. There was a pause. "Who are you?" her father asked. "Her husband-to-be." "What nonsense is this?" her father snapped. Anwar's voice turned cold. "I don't have time. My father is on the line. I want to marry Nayara immediately." Both men started shouting at once through the speaker. Anwar leaned closer to Nayara, lowering his voice so only she could hear. "Tell him." She shook her head, tears filling her eyes. He raised his voice again. "I want her as my wife. Decide now." His father roared through the phone, furious, ordering him to step back. Anwar didn't move. "I'd rather touch her as my wife," he said calmly into the phone, "than do something I won't take responsibility for. If you refuse this marriage, don't expect me to change my mind." Nayara let out a broken scream. Her father's voice cracked as he demanded, "What do you want?" Anwar answered without hesitation. "Marry her to me. Now."

Some know her as Aisha the troublemaker, the girl whose laughter dances a little too freely, the light that seems to chase shadows from every room she enters. But he sees something different... a side the world will never notice, a quiet storm behind her smile, a fire that burns just for him. To him, she is no one else, no mask, no pretense she is only one thing: his Ayla -Book Two of The Shettima Series- Out Now ✨

A whole compound. Two villas. One grandmother who runs everything at 4'11". And a girl with green eyes who says she's fine when she's absolutely not. Naylah is nineteen, sickle cell, and too stubborn for her own good. Her family is loud. Her cousin is her twin from another mother. Her brother doesn't do speeches, just looks. And somewhere in the middle of all this chaos, a doctor walks in and decides to stay. Come meet them. The gates are open. 💚