THIS BOOK IS NOW A PREVIEW Surrayya doesn't do complications. Life is sweet when you keep things simple- bake, paint, watch F1, and avoid emotional entanglements. Feelings? Too messy. Love? Too risky. She'd rather stick to what she can control: her dreams, her business, and her ever-growing collection of car facts no one asks for. Hafiz likes life structured. Numbers make sense. Investments have predictable outcomes. He has always believed that with enough discipline, life can be controlled. But lately, he's starting to realize- some things aren't meant to follow a formula, proving that even the best-laid plans can crash and burn. Their paths weren't supposed to cross. And yet, somehow, they crashed into each other-in the most unexpected place. She's all spontaneity; he's all logic. She runs from feelings; he's learning to confront them. Neither of them is looking for love, but love? It might just be looking for them. Because sometimes, the best things in life happen when you're not paying attention.

It feels terrible when you cannot turn the hands of the clock, a mistake that caused zanira to regret forever check out this amazing story about life challenges and many more this is my first book check it out I know you won't be disappointed 🥰

Rahina is an eighteen year old girl who just finished her secondary school and was told she was going to get married to ahmad who is her cousin ahmad. Ahmad is a 27 year old guy who is nice and has a bubbly personality. He is an architect and his love life doesn't really have a history. What happens when he finds himself falling inlove with an eighteen year old girl and to add to that she is his cousin.

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

"And We have made some of you a trial for others. Will you ˹not then˺ be patient?" The first time I read this ayah in Surah Furqaan, I had no idea it defined my future so clearly. ********** Hafiz Hakimi;- A 26-year-old Nigerian-American who grew up believing those who worshipped something they couldn't see were crazy motherfuckers. But it wasn't like he would go out of his way to tell them his opinion. His life was perfect, a routine of work, party, fuck, sleep, and repeat. His only source of annoyance was the woman whose vagina he popped out of, but even she was very far away from him. Life was good, everything was great. Until one fateful trip to Nigeria, his home country, set off a tornado that wrecked his mundane to pieces. Aliya Suleiman;- A 22-year-old hafiza whose only goal was to finish studying medicine, the devil's course. She only planned to get married after making her first million dollars, a feat her best friend Jasra said was impossible. She wasn't offended of course, because she never planned to get married. And if she did, it would be to someone more pious than her, mature and respectful; indulging. But then the one person she couldn't say no to begged her with tears in her eyes to marry her son. She was the woman who raised her and provided for her mother and her. There was no way she could refuse. It was the worst thing to have ever happened to both of them. A sudden downpour on an otherwise clear sunny day. He wasn't anywhere near the kind of man she imagined herself with. She was the woman raised by the person he hated the most. It was basically a recipe for disaster. She saw him as a way to repay a favour. He wanted to use her to get revenge. And as such, the stage was set and the curtains lifted. ___ ⚠️⚠️⚠️: UPDATES ON MONDAYS AND THURSDAYS ___ 🚨 This is entirely a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, places, a particular culture or event; whether real or fictional, is purely coincidental.

I love pink. He loves red. I crave strawberry milk. He craves... an HEIR?! I am just a normal college student. I like coding (badly), cute ribbons, and justice. My biggest problem was supposed to be passing Theology class. But I don't know how I ended up with a heavy diamond ring on my finger. One moment I was trying to hack a bad guy's phone, and the next, I was signing a contract with the Devil himself. Now, I live in his fortress. He treats me like a princess, but he looks at the world like he wants to burn it down. And the worst part? He keeps talking about his "Legacy." He wants a baby. RIGHT. NOW. Excuse me, Sir? I have midterms next week! Does the baby come before or after my exam?! Is it Stockholm Syndrome if the villain is your husband? Asking for a friend.

"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.

"Salim, you're scaring me," she said quietly. He shook his head quickly. "I'm not trying to scare you." "Then what are you doing?" His voice lowered. "We need to do this." Ikram stared at him. "Do what?" Salim swallowed. "We need to make sure they can't separate us." Her confusion deepened. "How?" He looked at her directly. "We need to sleep together." For a second... Ikram thought she misheard. Her face slowly changed. "What?" Salim stepped closer again. "If we do it... if you get pregnant..." Her eyes widened. "They won't have a choice," he continued quickly. "Our parents will be forced to let us marry." The silence that followed felt heavy. Ikram stared at him like she was looking at a stranger. "Salim..." she whispered slowly. "Tell me you're joking." He shook his head. "I'm serious." Her stomach twisted. "You're serious?" "Yes." Ikram took a step back. "No." Salim moved forward again. "Ikram, listen-" "No." Her voice came out stronger now. "Salim, that's insane." "It's not insane!" "Yes it is!" He grabbed her wrist suddenly. "We don't have time!" Ikram pulled her hand away immediately. "Don't touch me!" Salim's frustration grew. "You said you love me!" "I do!" "Then prove it!" Ikram stared at him in disbelief. "Prove it?"

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.

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."