Rudransh Khurana:- He is 28, powerful and cold. A self made storm with an empire at his feet and ice in his veins . As a chairman of imperion group, he didn't need people... he owned them. He felt nothing and moved through life like a shadow-sharp, silent and dangerous. Then came Aaranya. She is 21 - warm and grounded.A student of Delhi University, she wore her innocence like light but carried strength in every step. She was loyal,bold and soft in all the places where he was hard. But her life changed ...when Rudransh Khurana,set his cold eyes on her. He forced her into his dark world... and made her 𝘩𝘪𝘴. He calls it obsession. But for Aaranya, it feels like a beautifully built cage. ---------- "You think signing that paper makes me yours?" she whispered. "No, sweetheart," he said, voice dripping with danger. "That just makes it legal. You were mine the moment I saw you- My wife. My obsession. And now... my prisoner." "This isn't love..." "No. This is OWNERSHIP." ____ But the question remains? Will she submit? Or will she fight to break free from the man who owns her?

♡ BOOK I OF HIS SERIES. Sitara Sharma, an 18-year-old with a heart full of hope and innocence, begins her journey at a prestigious college as a scholarship student. Coming from a modest background, she dreams of a better future but quickly encounters the harsh realities of elitist judgment and social divide. Kabir Singh Raizada, a 22-year-old ruthless and wealthy senior, becomes a menacing force in her life. His disdain for Sitara's humble origins is palpable, and his manipulative behavior escalates, making her college life a torment. Kabir's obsession with her, driven by his sense of entitlement and superiority, threatens to undermine her confidence and personal integrity. Crimson Desire delves into the intense emotional and psychological conflict faced by Sitara, exploring themes of power, exploitation, and resilience. The story reveals the harsh impact of privilege on personal dignity and the inner strength required to stand firm against overwhelming adversity. Through Sitara's journey, it portrays the struggle of a young woman fighting to protect her values and sense of self in a world determined to break her spirit.

"Why are you doing this to me?" I whispered, my voice breaking as tears blurred my vision. He stepped closer-too close-his presence suffocating, inescapable. "Because, my angel..." he murmured, his voice low and unsettling, "you've attracted the devil inside me." A faint, dangerous smirk curved his lips. Sanjana Mehra: A 21 year-old Indian girl , soft-hearted but emotionally fragile. She feels everything too deeply-pain, fear, hope-and struggles to keep it all contained. A firm believer in God, she clings to her faith like it's the only thing holding her together. Her life appears ordinary on the surface, but behind closed doors, her family is far from kind. Despite everything, her heart remains untainted... for now. Blake Moretti: 30. A man shaped by power, control, and violence. Arrogant, calculated, and dangerously composed. He doesn't lose control-he owns it. Known in the underworld as someone you don't cross twice, Blake is ruthless when necessary and merciless when crossed. He doesn't believe in good or bad-only in survival. Yet, beneath the cold exterior lies a mind that observes, understands... and decides who is worth sparing. Two worlds. One driven by faith. The other by power. When they collide, something far more dangerous than love begins to grow.

"STRIP" Her face paled. She thought she misheard him, so she waited for him to repeat. But he took predatory steps towards her instead. His strides were long, he looked worse than a wild animal, ready to pounce on his prey. "Maine kaha ye kapde apne shareer se utaro." ["I said, take those clothes off."] He roared and in the next stride he held the veil of her saree, pulling it harshly off her body. Tears sprung to her eyes as she shook her head, and gripped the piece of cloth, concealing her dignity. "Please..." She pleaded, choking on a sob, but the more she resisted, the more force he applied. In no time she was stripped of her saree which lay at her feet now and she stood there in her underskirt and blouse, covering herself with her arms, which didn't do much to hide. Crying hysterically, she took steps back, her eyes still staring at the saree which seemed to be her shield a moment ago. But before she could take any more steps, he grabbed her chin and pushed her against the wall with force. He made her look up at him, her eyes teary fearful, while his cold, emotionless. "Ye raat abhi khatam nahi hui hai, abhi toh is chand pe grahan lagna baaki hai..." ["This night is far from over. An eclipse is yet to fall upon this moon."] He snarled and in the next moment, he pulled the strings of her underskirt and tore the buttons of her blouse, now nothing was there to shield her from the monster who was also her husband.

His madness for her is mess:- "If I die, Piya and sometimes I think I might, because my heart beats too fast when I think of you-you will still remember me every single day. Every time you see a jasmine flower, every time the phone rings and no one speaks, every time you see a man who is too tall or a car that is too dark... you will see me. I will be the ghost that haunts your marriage until it screams." ________________________________________ She leaned forward, her eyes pleading. "Please, Nikhil. If you ever truly cared for me, do this one thing. Forget me. Become the old Nikhil again-the one who loved books more than shadows. Leave me with my family. I will talk to Ekansh. I will take back all the charges. You can go to London, start over, breathe free air. Just... leave me." He looked up at her, his eyes wild and bloodshot, tears wetting her feet. "Please, Piya. Just love me back. Tell me you love me, and I'll burn these photos. I'll burn the world. I'm doing this because you're pushing me away! You're forcing me to be a villain when I just want to be your slave!" ​"Nikhil, let me go!" she shrieked, struggling beneath him. "I am disgusted by you!" she spat, her chest heaving. "Don't you ever touch me again! Your touch is like poison. I can feel the filth of your mind on my skin!" Dirty?" he whispered, his voice cracking into a high, terrifying giggle. "She thinks I'm dirty? Then I'll show her what the dirt actually is. "Why can't you just die before coming, i don't want you, just go to your evil father." Piya said crying looking at her swollen belly. This story will get dark in further chapters. I will update every night. So please vote for next chapters, comments your thoughts, and also subscribe for more stories like this. copyright all the story line is mine . the picture and music used in this story credit goes to their original owner.

🥇 #1 in Wattpad 🥇 #1 in WattpadIndia 🥇 #1 in WattpadRomance 🥇 #1 in WattpadFiction 🥇#1 in WattpadFanFiction 🥇 #1 in FirstStory 🥇#1 in Firstloves 🥇#1 in Wedding 🥇 And so many more rankings that still feel unreal to me! (13.06.2026) On the day of his wedding, Dhruv Malhotra was left at the altar. Humiliated. Betrayed. Enraged. And somehow, Riya ended up paying the price. Now trapped in a marriage neither of them wanted, Riya becomes the target of a man who looks at her like she ruined his life. Dhruv hates her. Riya fears him. But behind closed doors, hatred slowly begins to blur into something far more dangerous. Because in a marriage built on revenge... someone is bound to fall first.

⸻❀❦❀⸻ **𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝑀𝒶𝒻𝒾𝒶 𝒟𝑜𝓃'𝓈 𝐵𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓃𝒶** ⸻❀❦❀⸻ She was "perfection"*-an ethereal ballerina, "blind yet breathtaking, fragile yet untouchable." A delicate doll crafted for the stage, never meant for the hands of men. But "Damian Romanov was never just a man." He had always watched her-not with admiration, but with "obsession." A dark, merciless desire that saw her not as a dream, but as something to "own, to break, to ruin." She was "his" to shatter, "his" to collect when there was nothing left but "silent screams and trembling hand." At times, she was "beyond repair" yet she knew-no one would take her from him. Not her father, the Capo who lived only to serve him. Not his fiancée, Not even his own father, the man who once ruled before him-because no one stood in Damian Romanov's way. Once, her "cage was golden." Now, it was "platinum-stronger, colder, inescapable." ⸻❀❦❀⸻ **𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝑀𝒶𝒻𝒾𝒶 𝒟𝑜𝓃'𝓈 𝒞𝒶𝑔𝑒** ⸻❀❦❀⸻ ⚠️ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ⚠️ This is not a fairytale-it's obsession, ruin, and submission. A world where love is a weapon and pleasure bleeds into pain. #ExplicitSmut #BDSM #NonCon #DubCon #Violence #Bloodshed #MafiaBrutality #PowerImbalance #Possession #Captivity

He was a prince, a CEO, and a Mafia King-a man the world feared. She was the forgotten daughter, the shadowed sister, the sacrifice her family never saw. When fate twists, Aranya Singh Rathore is forced into the marriage meant for her stepsister... and finds herself bound to Veer Pratap Singh Chauhan-the untouchable royal, the ruthless tycoon who hates women as much as he rules them. She is the bride he never wanted. He is the husband she cannot escape. But every scar tells a story, and every secret threatens to burn their fragile world apart. Between palaces and boardrooms, betrayal and bloodlines, a mistaken bride may just become the queen destiny chose.

In a country that treats cricket as a religion, Kabir Malhotra wasn't just a player; he was the god of the final over-a lethal, broad-shouldered storm in a blue jersey who broke records as easily as he broke hearts. But to Ananya Sharma, he was just the arrogant boy next door who had spent fifteen years perfecting the art of getting under her skin. He was her brother's best friend, her family's golden boy, and the man who currently occupied ninety percent of her intrusive thoughts. Kabir had plans. For him, the game didn't end at the stadium. He'd spent years playing a long, calculated game of cat-and-mouse, waiting for the girl who called him a "narcissist" to realize she was the only trophy he actually wanted. ****** "You think you're so powerful because you can hit a ball? You're just a narcissist with a fan club." "I'm a narcissist who knows exactly how you sound when I whisper in your ear. Keep using that sharp tongue, baby girl. I might just decide I want to feel it somewhere else. ******