π’π‘πžπ₯𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐌𝐲 π’π­π¨π«π’πžπ¬ 🌷
3 storie
π˜πŽπ”'𝐀�𝐑𝐄 π„π—π‚π‹π”π’πˆπ•π„π‹π˜ πŒπˆππ„ di Priyanshi_writz
Priyanshi_writz
  • WpView
    LETTURE 221
  • WpVote
    Voti 66
  • WpPart
    Parti 3
The spotlight loves him. The world adores him. But only she knows the truth beneath the glittering façade. I'm thrilled-and perhaps a little wicked-to announce my upcoming dark romance, where fame, obsession, and danger collide in the most intoxicating way. ✧ He's Bollywood's darling. Radiant, untouchable, a god on every red carpet. ✧ She's her shadow. A bodyguard forged in violence, sworn to protect him-even from herself. But when the cameras turn off and the doors lock, the rules shatter. "You are public property, but behind closed doors, every pulse, every breath, every terrified whisper-that belongs only to me, Abhi." This isn't a love story. This is a claiming. For those who crave romance laced with danger, power plays that toe the line between devotion and possession, and a love so fierce it hurts-this book is your sin. And I can't wait for you to fall into its pages. ------------------------------------ Release Date: Coming Soon... (Stay tuned, or I might just have to hunt you down myself.)
𝐑𝐀𝐀𝐁𝐓𝐀: π“π‘πžπ’π« 𝐔π₯𝐭𝐒𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 πƒπžπ―π¨π­π’π¨π§ πœ—ΰ§Ž (𝑫𝒖𝒆𝒕 #1) di Priyanshi_writz
Priyanshi_writz
  • WpView
    LETTURE 5,800
  • WpVote
    Voti 1,486
  • WpPart
    Parti 14
πŸŽ€β‹†ο½‘π–¦ΉΒ°.πŸ§Ώβ‹†β€Λ–Β°πŸ§ The rain had always been an accomplice to their secrets. Ahaan, even at seven, possessed an unnerving precision. His neatly combed hair, his crisp school uniform, the way he meticulously arranged his toy soldiers in perfect platoons - it all spoke of an inherent order. His mind, already a nascent calculator, quietly absorbed the world, categorizing, analyzing, seeking logical patterns. Mahi, two years younger, was his antithesis, a riot of untamed energy and effortless grace. Her hair, perpetually escaping its braids, framed a face that was already breathtakingly beautiful, even in its childish contours. She didn't walk; she flitted, a hummingbird caught in a sunbeam. But even then, a nascent wariness flickered in her dark, polished brown eyes. She was stunning, undeniably, but that profound beauty felt less like a gift and more like a magnet for unwanted attention. They were an improbable pair. Ahaan, the quiet observer, the meticulous strategist of childhood games, and Mahi, the vibrant, impulsive force of nature. Yet, they were inseparable. She would pull him into grand, imaginative adventures where he, with his logical mind, would build the structures and rules, while she, with her boundless spirit, would breathe life into them. Then, the rain stopped being an accomplice and became a shroud. Mahi was in the first standard, Ahaan in the third, when an accident ripped the vibrant tapestry of their childhood. The news arrived like a thunderclap - Mahi's mother, gone. The world, which had always seemed so meticulously ordered to Ahaan, suddenly fractured. He saw Mahi's usually bright eyes cloud over, her laughter replaced by a hollow silence.