˚ . ྀིྀི୧ ❤︎ ୨ ྀིྀི.˚ "You don't own me, Mr. Rathore." "Don't I? Look around, Noor. Every door in this mansion opens with my name - and you're standing in the middle of it wearing my sindoor." Noor: "Maybe you forced me into your world... but you'll never have me." Rudraksh (leaning close, whispering): "Sweetheart, I don't chase what's mine. I just wait... until you stop running." ౨ৎ.⋆˚✿˖°꒰ঌ໒꒱˚⋆𐙚。𖦹.ᡣ𐭩 🖤 The night smelled of roses... and ruin. The city slept, but the mansion on the hill burned with gold - not of celebration, but of power. She stood there, trembling in crimson silk, eyes swollen from hours of crying. 👰‍♀️ Noor Malhotra - the sacrifice wrapped as a bride. And across the room, watching her like a shadow come alive, was Rudraksh Singh Rathore - the man they called The Devil of Rajasthan. 💼 The minister. 💣 The mafia. 🕶️ The man whose word was law... and whose silence was punishment. "Why me...?" she whispered, her voice breaking. "Because you smiled once," he replied coldly, stepping closer, "and the world forgot to exist for me." Her breath hitched as his gaze dragged over her - not with lust, but obsession. The kind that didn't crave flesh, it demanded possession. "Your father owed me," he continued, slipping a ring onto her finger. "So he gave me his most precious thing." A tear rolled down Noor's cheek. He caught it mid-air, his thumb tracing it like a mark of victory. "From this night," he murmured, eyes locked on hers, "you're not Noor Malhotra anymore." "You're my Amanat." 🌑 Silence followed - heavy, consuming, sacred. Outside, the world carried on, unaware that a deal had been sealed - not with signatures, but with stolen innocence and unspoken desire. 💔 That night, the devil was gifted a soul made of light. And he promised himself one thing - If heaven ever tried to take her back... 🔥 he'd burn it down.

🦋 𝓛𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓪𝓽 𝓶𝓮, 𝓑𝓾𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓯𝓵𝔂... "𝓖𝓸𝓸𝓭 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵." Now remember this fvcking face of mine- because from today onwards... you should know exactly who owns your nightmares. 👑🖤 ༺═────────────═༻ 🦋 𝓣𝓲𝓽𝓵𝓲 𝓢𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓶𝓪 soft. silent. shattered. 🎀 A girl who learned too early that screams don't save you... and words only make everything worse. 🥀 Broken by people. Punished by fate. Given away like she never belonged to herself in the first place. 🕊️ ༺═────────────═༻ 👑 𝓐𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓽𝔂𝓪 𝓢𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓱 𝓢𝓱𝓮𝓴𝓱𝓪𝔀𝓪𝓽 a man whose silence is more dangerous than violence. 🖤 Cold. Ruthless. Untouchable. A man who rules empires with a glance... and destroys people without even raising his voice. 👑 He never wanted love. Never believed in softness. And definitely never wanted a wife. But when his Dadi chose her- he agreed. ✨ Not to love her. Not to heal her. Not to understand her. Only to keep her. 🕯️ ༺═────────────═༻ 🖤 She doesn't speak. 👑 He doesn't feel. And somewhere between his control... and her silence- something dark begins to bloom. 🥀 Something obsessive. Something dangerous. Something neither of them can escape anymore. ⛓️ ༺═────────────═༻ He calls her "Butterfly" 🦋 Like she's delicate. fragile. breakable. Like she belongs in his hands. But what Achintya doesn't know is- ✨ some butterflies don't die inside cages. 🦋 They survive. They wait. And when the time comes- they fly. ༺═────────────═༻ ⚠️ 𝐀 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐞

"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.