I am a painter. Not a muse. I'll never be one. I'm tainted. A soul bruised. A past forgotten. Dreams broken. How can I be a muse? I am the painter who paints ruins, making them alive, because I'm alive. A ruined paint. -Dia Elise Chopra I am a bipolar. Funny it is? Yes, I am ice and fire. I can freeze you, I can burn you. I have coldness in my eyes, Fire in my soul. But there's a void. It is not for cold or ice, it's for colours. I remember her. Not the face. Not the voice. But the eyes. God, the eyes. My perfectly imperfect, muse. -Devansh Rhys Kapoor

"I need to go," her voice was quiet yet steady, and firm. "Where, Ciel?" his low voice came, not looking up from the papers his grey eyes were scanning sharply, though his voice was soft. So hers. "To my convent. To the church, Mr. Rajvansh. Away from your cage, Mr. Rajvansh. From Satan's hell.", her voice was trembling from a foreign fury to her pure soul. However, he was not phased, not surprised, his grey eyes softened with restrained amusement, finally meeting her onyx ones. "You look irresistible, like this, Mia Regina. Rage yet innocent. However, apologize, Ciel. Not happening. Because you are Mr. Rajvansh's, Mrs. Rajvansh, remember, Ciel? My queen on my chess board." "Do you think I'm one of your little pieces to play with, Mr.Rajvansh?!", Her voice raised, her fists small curling the hem of her white sundress. The silence stretched for a second. One Two. He slowly raised from his chair and with slow two strides he was towering her, his height dominating her petite yet self confident frame. And then, the next heartbeat, he bent a little, his lips at the level of her hairline. She heard herself gasping when his warm lips touched her forehead, like a caress. "No, Mia Regina. Tu es la reine. Celle qui commande ces petites pièces sur mon échiquier.", he murmured in french, his lips still on her skin, making some stupid butterflies around her stomach. She gulped, "Use Hindi or English, Mr. Rajvansh. Commutation needs a language.", she hoped she was not stuttering. A small private smile, the one that showed his right dimple, crossed his face. A smile utterly HERS. He then lowered his lips to peck her cheek. "If you are a piece on my board, love. I would slit your throat the moment you punched me last night. You are my undoing love. The one keeping my bloody hands anchored." He whispered, his grey eyes turning something into longing as he looked at her lips. 'Go to your room. Before you find yourself limping for a week, Ciel.' He whispered.

What if, silence finds melody? 🤍💚 "I feel like a fail-", he cut me off, with his thumb caressing my lower lip. Slowly. His bronze eyes, boring to my mint ones, so...softly. "You are my pride, Titli. The pride, I kiss, I love, I cherish. No one can insult you, not even you, Capri." God help me, this man is mad. Mad in Love. With me.

When anger meets ego? A war...or...tension? "You should know about me, Arnav", I said. Oh, I hate it. I hate how vulnerable, broken my voice sounds, right now. Fuck it. This is not me. What has the beast done to me? "God," he groans, his head fallen back, as he smiles towards the dark, void night sky. Dear mother of god, those stupid dimples. I swear, I hate them- "I love when you tell my name, Nur," he whispers. His deep low voice, so soft like a caress of silk. I blink. Once. Twice. God, did this man accidentally had a glass of vodka? "Arnav, listen, you should know-", I was cut off, not by a finger on my lips, but by strong hand snaking around my waist, and then, my chest on his, flush in flush. "I know who you are, Shivinika. You are Mrs. Singhania. Mine. My queen." Help, my lips found his.

What will happen if brown falls in love with pink?🤎🩷 "I'm coming for you, idiot", she messaged back. Her anger, evident even in the text. "Not the only time you say this, princess", I messaged her back. Shit, she's gonna fuck my smugness. But I can't help it, can't help the fact.

𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ⌇ 𝐄𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 ꒰𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝟐꒱ ❝𝑫𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝑨𝒕𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏❞ ──★𝐉𝐚𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐚‧₊˚⊹ I am a cheerful and calm person who doesn't get angry easily but just his presence makes my blood boil. I cannot stand him now we are stuck together, he is pretending to be my boyfriend in front of my family and he wants something in return He calls me 'wildcat', maybe I am because one day I am gonna scratch his face ──★𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐚𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬‧₊˚⊹ I don't talk with people unnecessarily, but when she is around I can't help but get on her nerves. I love seeing her riled up especially because of me Now I am her boyfriend, even though it's fake. She was my distraction that I have become attracted to. Now I need something from her She calls me 'fox',maybe I am because a fox is so cunning that he gets what he wants •Note- this is a soft, closed door romance

Book 1 in BURNING BETRAYALS (under polishing) What occurs when the four Rajvansh siblings are compelled by their father and stepmother to marry? With their own troubled pasts, will they be able to embrace their wives? How will they respond to the challenges that lie ahead? READ TO KNOW MORE