Jeune fille, tu t'appelles Taj, mais de couronne, tu ne porteras pas que le nom. Dans une semaine, un mois ou un an, dans cette vie ou dans une autre, que tu le veuilles ou que tu le refuses, tu porteras une vraie couronne sur la tête. Tu ne seras ni princesse ni reine. Tu seras plus que ça. Tu seras reine des reines. Le chemin sera long et semé d'embûches. Tu pleureras, tu saigneras, tu souffriras, tu douteras, tu chercheras même la mort, mais à la fin, d'une couronne, tu ne porteras pas que le nom.

{ Highest Ranking 👉🏻 #1 in Spiritual/ Islamic love story } I felt hurt seeing him in pain, pain, which wasn't so obvious to him. // .... Emotions overwhelming my unfaithful heart, I told him, "Assalam Alaikum, Ammar... your hand..." And they came covering us, maybe he didn't hear me. We walked towards the car, my attention on his bruised hand. Before we entered I took the first aid box. He stood there, tall, eyes ~ deep enough to drown me. He made my heart mad and it shivered as I neared him. I saw him grin and he let out a chuckle, and I asked him, terrified but fearless, "Why are you laughing ?" He turned to give me a closer look, his cold eyes examining every detail of mine and finally he spoke in his heavy Emirati accent that blew my senses, with a smirk alongside. What attitude !!! "Am I the doctor or you ? -I gave him a sideways death glare- And I told him, "I'm your wife," He raised his eyebrow side ways and I raised mine sideways too. And he talked again, burning what remained of me, my ears curious to listen to him. He told me to get in the car bluntly. I denied !! This time I wasn't going to listen to him. And he stared at me - his eyes speaking a lot yet they were so quiet. I saw him take a sigh of defeat! He moved up to me, close... closer.... bridging the gap that let air pass between us. And my fragrance blended in his enchanting one. *Takes a deep breath*

⚠️This story is a work of fiction and explores themes based on cultural traditions, emotional struggles, and personal transformation. She stormed out to the garden. "Say something!" she snapped, eyes burning. "Or are you still playing that 'I'm-too-pure-to-talk' game? Still pretending to be holy?" And that's when Raif moved. Fast. Zariah didn't even have time to blink before her back hit the nearby pillar - not hard, but firm enough to freeze her breath. His hand gripped her waist tightly, the other at her wrist, locking her in place. His chest pressed to hers. His face was inches from hers. His voice was deep. Controlled. But deadly serious. "It's no longer like always, Zariah." Her lips parted. "I used to ignore you because I knew my limits. I'm not like those men who flirt and sin and call it love. I feared Allah more than I ever desired you." His eyes narrowed, dark fire glowing behind them. "I didn't punish you back then because I respect women - even when they spit venom. I kept my mouth shut, not because I was weak... but because you weren't my mahram. I had no right to look at you, touch you, even speak without reason." He leaned closer, and she could feel his breath brush her cheek. "But now..." His grip on her tightened, and her body trembled - not from fear, but from the intensity in his words. "Now you are my wife. Now, you belong to me. Halal. Lawful. Mine." Zariah tried to turn her face away, but he caught her chin, tilting it back to him. "Now I can do anything I want. I can touch you. I can silence your insults without guilt. And I can show you what it means to be owned in a way that'll make you crave it again." His lips brushed her neck, just for a second - before he bit her. Not soft. Not brutal. But just enough to sting, enough to leave a mark. Zariah gasped, frozen. He pulled back just a little. "This-" he said, brushing his thumb over the fresh mark on her neck, "-is the first of many."

Sequel to "I can't rewrite our fate"/ second book in the Hassan siblings series ~Neha Hoque, someone who has gone through trials and discrimination regarding her faith but has been blessed with a new life. Haadi Hassan, the local workaholic that has been trying to perfect his deen but isn't sure how to manage a balance. How will they be able to look past their own situations for the sake of each other?

Sakina a 24 ans et vient de récupérer quelque chose qu'elle croyait perdu : elle-même. Divorcée, voilée, elle repart de zéro et tente de construire sa carrière, sa confiance, sa vie. Son hijab ferme des portes, les regards la blessent mais elle persévère quand même. Yunus, elle ne l'avait pas prévu. Solaire, toujours souriant, il refuse de la laisser disparaître quand elle tentera de s'éloigner. Mais certaines histoires ont un prix. Et Sakina n'est pas sûre d'être prête à le payer. ✍🏽 "Après les tempêtes" est une romance musulmane francophone qui parle de foi, de guérison et de tawakul Halal romance vf | Romance musulmane en français | slow burn | islam et spiritualité | personnages musulmans

Nejma Bensalem : Gardienne de musée, douce, calme et pieuse. Zayn Benamia : Héritier de la mafia italienne, froid, fort et pieux. Malgré tout ce qui les oppose, ils sont unis par un mariage de façade : ni amour ni passion, juste un certificat et une promesse. Nejma est brutalement plongée dans le monde violent de la mafia, ignorant qu'elle y appartient en réalité depuis sa naissance. Quant à Zayn, ce mariage n'est qu'un mal nécessaire sur son chemin. Il est obsédé par une double mission vitale : reconstituer le Joyau Familial, source du pouvoir de sa lignée, et retrouver sa mère disparue, dont le secret est la clé de son héritage. Début d'écriture: Samedi 15 novembre 2025 à 21h07 ​© 2026, Blue_Lydia. Tous droits réservés.

Quand une étoile s'élève, même la lune s'efface... ⚠️ TRIGGER WARNINGS ⚠️ - Violence physique et émotionnelle - Deuil / mort - Guerre - Anxiété et détresse psychologique - Sang - Manipulation / abus de pouvoir

The Ahmed Trilogy Book One Can be read as a stand-alone .•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•. Zayn feels lost, devoid of his sense of purpose in this world. He feels restless, as if he is subconsciously awaiting something, or someone perhaps. That someone who coincidentally collides into him. Literally. Or was it just a coincidence? Sarcastic, vigilant and independent, Syra instantly ensnares him. He wants her and he knows it. He'd do anything to have her for the rest of his life. She seems so far, so out of reach. But fate has other plans. As they get to know each other, as the tension between them increases, they gradually discover how their lives were intertwined from before. How far will he go to ensure that his future holds her and hers holds him? .•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•. Contains mild mature content and language. Rated 15. May contain sensitive topics. .•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•. I'm so shit at summaries so check out the Introduction. What I'm tryna say is don't judge by the cover and the blurb as I suck at both unfortunately and give this a chance - it's my first book too. Incognito Gyal xxx .•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.

🌹 Les Murmures du Harem Roman historique - Drame psychologique - Destins féminins ✒️ Par : Infa Chapitres en ligne : 25 | Mise à jour : régulière | Statut : en cours 🎭 Résumé : Offerte au Sultan en gage d'allégeance, Riwaya ne connaît du palais que les murs dorés et les silences. Éduquée pour plaire, conditionnée pour obéir, elle découvre vite que le harem n'est pas un lieu de luxe, mais un théâtre de pouvoir, de désir, et de survie. Entre rivalités invisibles, secrets d'État et blessures intimes, Riwaya devra apprendre à exister par elle-même, à travers la sororité, le doute, et l'amour interdit. Mais lorsque le masque du Sultan tombe... c'est tout l'équilibre du palais qui vacille. 💔 Ce que tu trouveras dans ce roman : ✔ Une héroïne tiraillée entre devoir et désir ✔ Des complots, des jalousies, des trahisons... en robes de soie ✔ Des confidences dans les jardins, des regards volés dans les bains ✔ Une ambiance inspirée de l'Empire ottoman et arabo-andalou ✔ Des personnages secondaires forts (Zahra, Lina, Kahir, le Vizir...) ✔ Une écriture immersive et sensorielle, faite pour te faire ressentir 📅 Calendrier de publication : 📌 1 à 2 publications par semaine → J'avance lentement mais sûrement. Je prends le temps de relire, corriger et offrir le meilleur chapitre possible à chaque fois. Merci de ta patience 🙏