⚠️Highly Mature Content⚠️ (18+/21+ Audience only) #19 on Wattpad [21/01/26] SLOW UPDATES DUE TO BOARDS'26 "Chup chaap humari bitiya se byaah lo, daroga... varna jiss taesh se aaye the naa ussi taesh mein apne jigri dost ki laash saath lekar jaaoge." ("Quietly marry our daughter, officer... or else, the same rage you came here with, you'll return with your best friend's corpse alongside you.") An IPS officer. That's what I am. Stoic, trained to face gunfire without blinking, to stare criminals in the eye. And yet, here I stood in a mud-stained courtyard, stripped of power, cornered by men who didn't fear the law. Is this real? An officer dragged into a pakdua byaah like some helpless boy? With a village girl-barely literate, cloaked in shyness and fragility? Me-a divorced man, father to a one-year-old daughter who waits for me to come home? Nothing about it fit. And yet everything about it was true. Because my best friend-my brother in every sense-sat tied to a chair across from me. His hands bound, his eyes defiant, and three guns pointed to his head. Aarish. Soon to be a father himself. Husband to Suhani, who was as much my sister as blood could make her. What was I supposed to do? Marry or rebel? The choice was never mine. I whispered, almost ashamed: "Main talaaqshuda hoon... aur ek beti ka baap bhi." ("I am divorced... and also the father of a daughter.") She looked at me with steady innocence: "Nahi... ab aap ek shaadi-shuda insaan hai. Aur hum uss bachi ki maa hai." ("No... now you are a married man. And I am that child's mother.") TROPES City Boy × Village Girl IPS × Illiterate Forced Marriage / Pakdua Byaah Second Chance at Love Stepmother Role Found Family Traumatic Past Grumpy × Sunshine Duty vs Desire Single Father Romance Slow Burn Romance Innocence Meets Experience

Her eyes fluttered open as thin streaks of sunlight slipped through the curtains and brushed against her face. She shifted instinctively, only to freeze as a sharp ache ran through her body. Slowly, she forced her eyes open wider, her gaze landing on the ceiling above-the steady rotation of a fan blurring in her vision. She stared at it blankly, her head pounding, her thoughts sluggish and tangled. A warm weight rested around her waist. Her breath caught. slowly, almost afraid of what she might find, she turned her head-and froze. A man lay beside her, his arm wrapped securely around her, as though it had been there all night. He was fast asleep, his face calm, unaware. Her eyes widened in shock. And then it hit her. Fragments of the night before crashed into her mind-blurred, incomplete, but enough. Her heart began to pound. She looked down at herself, panic rising like a tide. The blanket was loosely wrapped around her, barely covering her. Realization struck hard. She threw the covers aside and scrambled upright-only to stiffen instantly. She wasn't wearing anything. A sharp breath escaped her lips as she clutched the duvet tightly around herself, wincing at the movement. Her gaze darted wildly around the room. Clothes were scattered everywhere. For a split second, everything stood still. Then- A piercing scream tore through the room. "AHHH!" --- --- --- "I... I'm sorry, Mumma... Dadda... I'm so sorry..." Her voice was barely a whisper, fragile and broken as she sat on the cold floor. The room was silent-too silent-as if the world itself had stepped back. please don't hate me..." she murmured, her grip tightening around the blade Tears slipped down her cheeks. "I'm... s-sorry...". Her hand trembled as she lowered the knife, pressing it against her wrist. Then she dragged the blade across. A sharp gasp escaped her lips as pain bloomed. Blood began to well up,but she didn't stop.

re writing the book once again will be same or a little different

#2 in Top 10 in India on (9/4/26) #1 in Top 10 in India on (12/4/26) Myra sharma had heard his name before she ever saw his face. Armaan Brar. The President of Chandigarh National University. Final-year Political Science student. RSVP's rising youth face. The boy professors avoid. The one students don't look in the eye. The one whose footsteps are enough to silence a corridor. They say he once pulled a gun on campus. They say he wins elections the way he wins fights... ruthlessly. They say crossing him is a mistake you don't repeat twice. And she believes every freaking word. She's just a first-year B.Com student. From a Middle class family, She left Lucknow with dreams in her suitcase. Chandigarh National University was her dream. Her fresh start. Her escape. Living alone in a new city wasn't easy but she was determined. Far away from politics, power, and people like him. Her only goal? Stay invisible, don't get noticed by bullies in college.. But Armaan Brar notices her. And that's where the problem begins. And Armaan Brar has never been gentle about what he wants. Tropes:- - punjabi munda x Innocent hindu girl - college president x simple student - first love - rich guy x middle class girl - 5 years age gap (don't judge my book with this description there is a lot more about Armaan and Myra, give it a chance please...it's my first story.)

Vashista , a 21 year old who finished 12th class, since then she is restricted to home and responsibilities. A very warm kind hearted woman. Devaraj, a 27 year old man who works in fileds and lives on his own as he doesn't have parents but a very stoic and cold hearted person but beneath all that he craves for love and affection. When Vashista and Devaraj gets married will they find love and be happy? Will vashista manage to make her way into Devaraj's heart? Will love ever bloom in their lifes? Dive into to know more!