AYAAN SINGH RATHORE In the heart of a city that never sleeps, where neon lights blur the line between dusk and dawn, power wears a tailored suit and walks in silence. Ayaan Singh Rathore-heir to the formidable Rathore empire-stands at the helm of a kingdom carved from stone, steel, and ambition. Hotels that touch the sky, clubs pulsing with secrets, restaurants where the rich dine and the reckless deal-all bear his mark. To the world, Ayaan is a storm contained in calm: cold, distant, and calculated. Every handshake is a negotiation, every glance a warning. Ruthless in business, untouchable in reputation, he leaves no room for sentiment. Except for her. "NIHARIKA" The only name that breaks through the fortress he's built around his heart. The only softness in a man forged from fire and shadows. And in a life where loyalty is currency and betrayal comes gift-wrapped, she is his only truth. It's dangerous. And sometimes... it's the beginning of war. ----------------------------------------------------------------- NIHARIKA RAJPUROHIT By day, she is elegance in motion-poised, polished, and powerful. Niharika Rajpurohit, heiress to the Rajpurohit legacy, doesn't walk into boardrooms-she commands them. With a voice that closes deals and a smile that unsettles rivals, she has carved her own empire in a world ruled by men who underestimated her. To outsiders, she's untouchable. A vision of grace laced with steel. But to those who truly know her-she's sunshine bottled in silk. Loyal, warm, fiercely protective. The kind of woman who'd burn the world for those she loves. AYAAN SINGH RATHORE was everything she shouldn't want-ruthless, guarded, emotionally unreachable. A storm wrapped in shadows. But love doesn't ask for permission. It simply takes root. Quietly. Deeply. Irrevocably. Because when fire meets ice, the world doesn't just melt. It ignites.

Three rules I was supposed to follow this semester: 1. Don't fall for the professor. 2. Don't flirt with the neighbor. 3. Don't marry either of them. Too bad they're the same man. Rhea Sharma is used to turning heads, getting into trouble, and never backing down from a dare-especially when the dare looks like six-foot-two of sharp cheekbones and unholy control issues. Professor Ishan Khanna is the man girls whisper about in class, the kind of danger you don't just fall for-you crave it. He's cold, brilliant, ruthless-and off-limits. But when a twist of fate ties them in a secret arranged marriage, and they're forced to share more than just a wall between their apartments... Let's just say temptation doesn't knock. It breaks in. Touch Me, Sir. Bold girl. Dom professor. Dirty secrets. Silent jealousy. Forbidden nights. You've been warned. ---

Reyansh Rajvansh, 32, stands 6'3" a towering shadow over Rajasthan and the underworld alike. Ruthless, merciless, and feared by all, he commands the Rajvansh Empire, India's number one power, with an iron grip. His influence stretches across continents, his networks hidden in every corner of the world. To cross him is to invite ruin, yet behind his cold, deadly exterior simmers a darkness no one dares to challenge. Aadhya Joshi, 22, stand at 5 feet is a final-year BBA student and the eldest daughter of a middle-class family. To the world, she appears ordinary, but her life is anything but. Hated by her own family for reasons still shrouded in mystery, she has learned to endure pain with quiet strength, refusing to let their cruelty shatter her spirit. Beneath her calm exterior lies a fierce and unyielding soul-cross her, and she will turn your heaven into hell's wrath. Yet, within her darkness blooms a hopelessly romantic heart, drawn to danger and passion. A secret writer of dark romance, she weaves stories drenched in fire and shadows, never realizing she is living one of her own.

This story is set around a rural background where patriarchy is at its peak. Men were considered as the backbone of the country and women had no such place. What happens when in an attempt to save a girl who was bounded to be killed by the society is saved by AVYAAN THAKUR, the new zamindar. Will fate be kind to them? Maybe not, but if they try to melt the cruel heart of fate? Maybe yes.

"Kill me or marry me." I said, lifting my chin, trying not to show any kind of fear in my tone. "You know that I can't kill you." He spoke after a good moment of silence. "Then marry me." I again said. I can't believe that I am doing this. I was literally convincing my biggest enemy to marry me at any cost. "And why would I marry you?" He asked in a sarcastic way. "Because you are responsible for my miserable state." I said. "So you want me to marry you out of compensation?" He asked. "Yes," I said, because I have to marry him. "You will regret it." He said it in a dangerous tone, and I gulped. "We will see." I challenged, and I felt him scoffing. "You will receive the invitation and the date of the wedding soon. Be ready for me to ruin the rest of your life." He said and walked out of the room. I kept standing there, gathering all the courage I have. ********* Maitreyi Kanwar, the forbidden princess of Rajgarh, seeking to take revenge for her family's death. She was a weak soul from her childhood, being a neglected daughter. But after losing everything in the war against Udaipur, she decides to be brave and take revenge on the prince of Udaipur. "I will show him what it feels like to lose one's whole family." ******** Pradhuman Singh Shekhawat, the prince of Udaipur, a dangerous soul in the mask of an innocent man. He hated one thing in his whole life, Rajgarh. Now that he killed both the princes of Rajgarh, he felt relieved. But suddenly the princess, who was hidden from the whole world, called him and asked him to marry her. "She herself asked for her life to be messed up, and I will surely fulfil her wish." The biggest irony? Her name is Maitreyi, which means friendship, and her intentions are completely opposite. But it wasn't like that from the beginning. BOOK #2 IN THE HISTORICAL SERIES, CAN BE READ SEPARATELY.

When the most ruthless king, after conquering nearly the entire kingdom, captures a princess bound to him not by blood, but by destiny - a fragile soul against a man of stone - what unfolds next is a tale written in fire and fate. Story from the 1350s __________ His voice dropped further, a cold growl vibrating through the chamber. "Do you even realize," he snarled, "Who are you pointing that blade at?" His words cracked in the still air. "I could finish you with a snap of my fingers, foolish girl." He leaned in-not forward, not risking the blade-but with a shift of presence, reminding her of the power he carried like a second skin. "As my wife," he continued, each word laced with warning, "You are meant to obey. You are to be quiet. You are to do as commanded." A beat. His eyes narrowed. "Now put the dagger down and get into that bed... before I lose the last of my patience and pass your death sentence myself." The threat hung heavily in the air. But she did not move. And neither did the dagger pressed to his chest-The first weapon ever to make Rudravardhan Singh Rathore pause. "Wife." The word left Ratanpriya's lips not as a title... but as mockery. A blade dipped in quiet contempt. "Don't you know," she said, her voice low and level beneath the veil, "A Kshatriya princess chooses her own husband? And I..." A breath, cold as steel. "...never chose you." Rudravardhan's jaw tightened. His eyes darkened. In a flash, the dagger was ripped from her hand and sent clattering into the far corner of the chamber. His grip seized her wrist-one arm trapped painfully behind her back, the other pinned against the stone railing. Her back pressed against his chest, each breath of his a storm rolling through her stillness. "You accept or not," he hissed, voice burning against her veil, "I am your husband. And I am your fate."

Warning ⚠️ Mature content 🔞 *child marriage* she was 10 when he's 18 she was innocent girl who didn't know about marriage while he's sarpanch of village cruel dangerous. it's old fashion book so don't hate me for child marriage plot. " bhaiyaa" she scream...... "bhaiya honga tera bhai inaya" he shout he's face darkening with anger. Inayat trembled whenever Rudrakansh was near. He was older, taller, and dangerously powerful, his every move and glance carrying an unspoken threat. Even his shadow seemed to loom over her, and the thought of angering him made her small heart race with panic. she throws her bangles at him before running off " hum sarpanch hai baba humpe zor jabardasti nhi kar paoge aur na hi hame us ladki se vivah karne ke liye mana paoge" he said calmly but firmly. " tum uske ghar to jaa aao baki fir baad me dekhenge, tumhari maa ki zidd hai " he's father said with pleading.... Rudrakansh ko sirf ek hi chiz ki bookh h aur vo h respect. ~~~~ "Sarpanch jiiii, please na... aap to bohot acche hai na! Aisa mat karein... bas upar se aam phek rahi hu, pakad lo please!" ~~~~ forced marriage innocent girl × short tempered sarpanch little girl × mature man She fell first while he first felt was protectiveness and then he lost , he lost he's heart he's everything and win her deeply Possessive Obsession Vo kehte rahe dur raho humse , hum kehte rahe paas hi to hai Rudrakansh ke liye vo sirf bacchi h lekin uske baad or zidd aage vo mazboor ho gaya jab usne pehli baar use saare me dekha, ek ladki jisko usne apne saamne bade hote dekha tha lekin ese nhi. Uske liye ab vo uska obsession uski zidd hai, Uska junoon aur pagalpan. it's worth it guy's please just give it a try - 4 - dark forest out of 2.9 k

Do bhai, ek ghar... aur beech mein sab kuch jo kabhi keh nahi paaye. In a 3BHK flat where the ceiling fan wobbled louder than people's tempers, Advik and Vidhit grew up in the glorious, lovable mess of a middle-class Indian family. Four people. Two school bags. One landline. And zero space for secrets. Advik, Class 12 - serious, soft-spoken, a dutiful son who never talked back, previously known as the Lalla of the house. But deep down? A boy who wrote poetry in the back of his maths notebook and stared too long at the girl with the braid in Section B. Vidit, Class 10- dramatic, filmi, Dadi's favourite punching bag (with chappals), and the undisputed Babu of the house... if it had existed back then.

She lost her heart years ago. He locked his away after being betrayed. Their marriage wasn't meant to be a love story-just a quiet compromise between two broken souls. But somewhere between shared silences and unspoken glances, feelings begin to rise. Will love find a way between a woman still haunted by the past... and a man brave enough to wait?

He tore open her blouse, his voice a dark, possessive growl. "Ab tu meri hui..." ["Now you are mine..."], "...teri har saas..." ["...your every breath..."], "...teri har dadkan..." ["...your every heartbeat..."], "...tera yeh jism..." ["...this body of yours..."], "...in sab mein bus mera haq hain." ["...in all of this, only I have the right."] Vamika stood paralyzed, a silent scream trapped in her throat. Every shred of resistance had been stripped away, leaving only the hollow shell of surrender. She was his to claim, his to break. And as his shadow fell over her, he did. Now he owned her. Completely. Can an arrogant village headman ever truly fall for the daughter of his lender-the woman he married by force? Or will his "love" remain nothing more than a dark, consuming obsession? Will Vamika remain just a pawn in his game, a collateral for debts and power... or can she become something more, something real to him? Can their marriage ever transform from a cold, calculated deal into a true union of hearts... or is it doomed to remain a cage of control and desire?