𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟. . . . . . . . . . . We've all heard the tales of good and bad, the tales of innocent deceit and her hero, the tales that despite their nature, show us the beauty in contrast. But it's the tales of pure evil that get swept under the rug. The tales of deception, where cruelty is rewarded. The tales that have you questioning who the real villain of the story is. There's a simple philosophy to most thing in life; two wrongs 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 make a right. So what ensues when you put two of the worst kinds of people together? Loyalties transfer, lines blur, and hatred ignites complete chaos. She's cunning. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴. She's dangerous. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴. She's evil. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘦. Or so that's what we're told. The devil is always worse. But maybe, just maybe, she's the devil in disguise, playing his advocate... . . . . . . . . . . - 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 - 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 - 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞. -

"𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐈 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝑴𝒚 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒇𝒆." "You are going to stop this damn marriage. RIGHT. NOW." His voice was a low growl, barely human. I froze. "And who the hell are you to tell me that-" But before I could finish, he closed the distance between us in a blink. His breath hit my skin like fire. One hand gripped my jaw, his thumb and fingers squeezing my cheeks as if daring me to speak again. His eyes, dark and unblinking, held something far more terrifying than rage. OBSESSION. He leaned in, whispering at the edge of my neck, his voice a dangerous murmur. "The moment you chose to marry him, you dug your own grave." His grip tightened. "I was trying," he hissed pulling my face closer to him, "I was really trying to be nice to you. But you-" A bitter smirk curved his lips. "You make me a monster every single time." That night, Arohi Raichand was forcefully married... Not to the man she was raised to get married- But to the man the world feared. Her worst nightmare. Advansh Rudra Singh Rathore. She was a prisoner in the golden cage of a mafia king who was once declared insane. A girl caught in the cruel chaos of a love so twisted... it poisons everything it touches. But obsession is not love- and possession, not protection. This isn't a love story. This is a war between hate and hunger. Between fire and frost. Between a girl who wants to escape- And a man who would burn down the world just to cage her again. Welcome to the beginning of Arohi and Advansh's story. A story of possession, madness, and a love that was never meant to be gentle. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ • An Indian Force-Marriage Dark Romance • This book is mature and 18+ due to highly adult  content, age-gap, and mention of BDSM.

Keshav x Zarya They are enemies? Worse. They have nothing in common, nothing that should ever bring them together, yet fate made them cross their paths long before they could even remember it. One was haunted by ghosts... while the other was a ghost in her own way. One spent his entire life keeping his distance from such things, carrying scars from a past he never truly escaped. But what happens when he falls for the exact person who awakens every fear, every wound, every buried part of his existence? A story that begins with him becoming her bodyguard and her secret husband for convenience, only to uncover the truth behind her plans. But somewhere along the way, he starts seeing things he never wanted to see and feelings he never wanted to feel. From wanting to kill her... to becoming the one protecting her, even from herself. What will happen? How far will he go to save her? But the real question is- WHO EXACTLY IS HE TRYING TO SAVE HER FROM ? Get into the book to find out.

"No, please ... not again" she prayed. That tune. Soft. Familiar. Haunting. She turned slowly... her breath caught in her throat. There he was. Standing in the shadows, just beyond the emergency exit. "I'll follow you wherever you go" "No," she whispered. "No, no, no, shhh, Meera, calm down. It's just a hallucination. Just a hallucination. Just-" She broke into a run, blind and desperate, nearly tripping over her own feet. And crashed straight into something - or rather someone. IZRAEL'S FIAMA