When someone's life becomes a mystery , you begin connecting broken threads just to find the truth ... A forgotten apartment left behind by two people who vanished without a trace __ 🥀 A man suffering from disorder beyond understanding was once a boy who smiled through pain and chose kindness in this cruel world . A woman who is no where to be found was know for her cold behaviour yet became the only place he ever called his home . But some truths are powerful enough to destroy the happiness they created and diaries hold the power to solve the puzzle which no one understands ....

𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 '𝐓𝐨𝐫𝐧' 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 ❝𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐭.❞ -Shivani Desai ❝𝐉𝐚𝐚𝐧, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧.❞ -Reyaan Oberoi ～✿～ She is the mastermind of the game, planning every move carefully and placing every piece with precision. Yet, she doesn't realize that the game isn't just running on her skills, but the god of the game himself is on her side. -quietly playing his own game in the shadow of her game. ～✿～ 🎀 TROPES 🎀 Physiotherapist × Business Tycoon Replaced Groom Planned Marriage Obsessed × Devoted Love Possessive Male Lead Manipulative Female Lead Touch her & lose your important hand Mysterious Past Both fell harder [who fell first? That's secret, my Jaan]

It should've ended with distance. A silence. A closed door. But instead, it began here-pressed against a balcony wall, with her breath caught between fear and temptation, and his eyes burning with something far more dangerous than lust. He didn't touch her. Not yet. But the threat of it lingered in the space between their bodies, in the way his chest nearly brushed hers every time he exhaled. She could feel the tension rippling off him, barely contained-like a storm pacing behind his ribcage, just waiting to destroy. "You shouldn't be here," he said, voice rough, low, and shaking with restraint. But he was the one who had cornered her. He was the one who couldn't stay away. And she? She hated how much she didn't want to run. Because this-whatever this was-felt like standing on the edge of something irreversible. "You're my employee," he snapped. As if the label could cage what was already unravelling inside him. "You're a mistake I keep choosing." Her eyes met his-furious, pained, exposed. "I never asked you to," she said, but her voice cracked around the lie. His hand lifted slowly, brushing the side of her jaw with a touch that contradicted everything his words said. Possessive. Tender. He stared at her like she was the very thing he was never meant to want-and the only thing he couldn't stop needing. "I've spent years building walls to stay in control," he muttered, his thumb grazing her lower lip. "You walk in and wreck all of it... without even trying." She swallowed hard. This wasn't love. This wasn't even hate. This was obsession-raw, electric, and utterly doomed. And as his lips hovered over hers, trembling with the weight of a thousand wrong intentions, they both knew- 🥀It started with a look. It spiraled with a touch. And before they could stop it, they were already each other's greatest undoing.

"A-Aryan..." her voice trembled, breath uneven. I smirked. "Miss me, butterfly?" Her body was taut, shaking, but not from the cold. Her hands pressed against my chest, pushing, resisting. Weak. "Let me go," she whispered. I didn't move. "Why?" "You-" her voice cracked. "You killed him." My smirk didn't waver. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. "You're not just a businessman. You're a murderer." I tilted my head. "And?" Her breath hitched. "And? That's all you have to say?" "What else do you want, Siya?" I murmured, brushing my thumb against her pulse. "An apology?" Her eyes darkened with rage. "You don't even regret it." I chuckled. "No." __________________________________ "What do I want?" His voice was low, edged with something dark. "I thought that was obvious." I held my ground, refusing to back away even as he stopped mere inches from me. "Say it," I challenged. He exhaled a quiet chuckle, his eyes roaming my face before locking onto mine. "I want you, Siya." My breath caught. Not because of his words-I had known it from the start-but because of the way he said them. Not a request. Not a plea. A statement. Like it was inevitable. Like I was already his. I forced my chin up, summoning every ounce of defiance in me. "You don't own me, Aryan." _____________ Mature content⚠️

" 𝐙𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐫 𝐤𝐢 𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐚𝐡𝐢 𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐟 𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐢 𝐦𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐭𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐢, 𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐣𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦 𝐦𝐞𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢 𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐚𝐡𝐢 𝐤𝐚 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐮𝐦𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐢" ⎯ Zoravar Singh Ahlawat♚ ❣ °•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●☆(◕‿◕✿)☆●○•°●○•°●○•°●○•° ❣ "𝐀𝐚𝐩𝐤𝐢 𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐚𝐡𝐢 𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐟 𝐦𝐞𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐢! 𝐎𝐫 𝐞𝐬𝐢 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐢 𝐤𝐢 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐢 𝐝𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐚 𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐤𝐡𝐞𝐠𝐢" ⎯ Eshvika Sharma♛ . . . . . . . . . . . . . Do Not Copy My Work! Read trigger warning before reading the book. ❣

Book 2 of Arranged series She stood trembling, voice barely existing as she whispered, "Every inch of my body is full of scars, Arnav. Raw pain... misery. I'm already stained. My innocence and sanity were taken from me long ago." The closeness between them made sure her broken words reached him. Arnav went still. Emotion tore across his face-rage at her suffering, grief for the girl she once was, and a love so consuming it trembled through him. He stepped closer until his body pressed fully against hers. Their faces hovered inches apart, their breaths mingling in the small, shaking space between them. "What if I told you," he whispered, voice thick, "that I'm in love with every one of those scars, butterfly? That your pain wounds me deeper than a hundred bullets? That your 'stains' only prove how fiercely you survived-like the moon, scarred but breathtaking." He leaned in, breath brushing her lips. "What if I told you you're as pure as Maa Ganga to me?" A tear slipped down her cheek. "I will disgust you eventually." He let out a soft, pained chuckle. With a fingertip beneath her chin, he lifted her face gently. "Eyes on me, butterfly." It wasn't an order-it was devotion. "Disgust?" His voice broke slightly. "Do you even understand what you are to me?" He moved closer, caging her with his warmth, grounding her shaking form. "Let me show you," he whispered, promise dark and tender. Her eyes fluttered shut, overwhelmed. His voice sharpened, soft steel. "Dare you close your eyes." She opened them instantly. Their noses brushed-fleeting, electric. "Watch me worship you," he breathed. "Watch me devour you like the elixir you are. Watch me treasure you like the rarest artifact in existence." His gaze dipped to her lips. "May I?" She nodded, trembling. He didn't move. "Words, sunshine." "Yes," she breathed. A slow, dark smirk pulled at his lips-relief, hunger, devotion all woven into one expression. "Now see what you mean to me." Then Arnav kissed her.

𝐇𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧. 𝑨 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒏 𝒃𝒖𝒊𝒍𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒂 𝒎𝒂𝒏'𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 - 𝐯𝐞𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐲 𝐯𝐞𝐢𝐧, 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡. From that cursed day, all he's ever wanted was to ruin him beyond recognition. But death? Death is silence. Death is peace. And peace is mercy. 𝐇𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥. To reach him, he will use his sister- make her the path, the bait, the weapon with no way back. He will step into her life out of nowhere, on a night so black the stars choke on their own light, and twist it until it screams. She will let him, at first. She will let him ruin her. Until she belongs to 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞. Until she can't even belong to 𝐡𝐢𝐦. And that's where everything starts to burn. Because somewhere between the threats and the ruin, between the lies and the blood - something far more dangerous takes root. A love that tastes like vengeance. A love that kills as much as it keeps alive. A love that is both a weapon and a wound. Because yes, 𝕴𝖙'𝖘 𝖆 𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓𝖌𝖊. Revenge that will scar souls, ruin innocence, destroy lives, and expose secrets that will shatter their existence. She's not weak. She's not fragile. But she will scream. She will cry. She will bleed. He is strong. He is unbreakable. But he will shatter. He will fall. He will break. Because again, it's a tale of revenge. And of a love that will burn them to ash. But one question cuts deeper than all the rest - 𝕽𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓𝖌𝖊, 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞?