"Utaro yeh saree." Abhay stepped closer, his gaze slowly travelling over Prisa before stopping at her eyes. (Take off this saree.) Prisa froze. Her eyes widened in shock, her breath hitching as fear quietly settled in. Abhay Shrivastava-a middle-class boy-was now bound in a forced marriage with Prisa Singh Rathore, a girl from the powerful Rathore family. This was not a marriage of love. There was no liking, no understanding. Only compulsion. And the harshest truth of all- Abhay hated the Rathore family... with a depth so intense, so consuming... that perhaps he had never hated anyone this much before. And with every passing moment... the distance between them only grew deeper. --------------------- This is a continuation of *Devil's Innocent Sin*. It is the second series in the saga; if you haven't read the first book yet, I recommend reading it first, as it will make it easier for you to understand the characters and the storyline. Now is the time for Abhay, Prisa or zayaan....

"The servants are still awake downstairs. My wife is just down the hall." ​"You shouldn't have come up here tonight," I say, my voice low, a deep baritone that carries a sharp, aristocratic edge. ​"H-Hukum... main toh bas..." I choked out, a hot tear spilling over my lashes as my hands tightly fisted into the simple fabric of my faded cotton tunic (poshak). I looked up into his cruel, handsome face, completely trapped in the golden cage of his desires. (Hukum... I was just...) __________________________________ I want to warn everyone right at the start: this story is extremely dark and contains a lot of disturbing content. If this isn't your cup of tea, please don't read it. I don't want any negative comments, as I have already given you fair warning.

Some people fall in love. Others... build it. Reyansh Raichand was never a part of Meher Shah's world. Not in the beginning. Not in any way that mattered. He was just Kabir Shah's friend. A familiar face. Someone who came and went without leaving a mark. And that's exactly how he wanted it. Because the most dangerous obsessions don't announce themselves- they grow quietly, patiently... until they become unavoidable. Every step he took was deliberate. Every bond he formed was calculated. Every moment he spent around her... had a purpose. Meher never noticed when he stopped being distant and started becoming present. Never questioned why he was always there- in the background, in the silence, in the spaces she never thought to guard. By the time she did... It was too late. A single move was all it took to break everything she knew. Trust shattered. Safety gone. Her world reduced to something fragile in his hands. And suddenly, he wasn't just her brother's friend anymore. He was the reason everything had fallen apart. ____________________ "Finally... we are husband and wife now." His voice was calm. Almost satisfied. As if this moment had lived in his mind long before it became real. "All this waiting... all this planning- finally brought you to me." "I hate you!" Meher's voice trembled, breaking under the weight of everything he had taken from her. "I will never forgive you for this." He smiled. Slowly, he stepped closer-then lowered himself in front of her, as if devotion and dominance could exist in the same breath. "I don't need your forgiveness," he murmured softly. His gaze never left hers. "I just need you... right beside me." A pause. "Right where you belong." Because this was never love. It was something far more consuming. Far more dangerous. An obsession that didn't begin with a heartbeat- but with a decision. And now that he finally had her... There was no escape. There never was.

Silk saree. Diamond necklace. Red lips. A wealthy man's possession. A mistress. Her fingers slowly touched the fading bruise near her collarbone before quickly moving away, as though even she could not bear touching herself anymore. Outside the locked bedroom, laughter and music echoed through the mansion halls. Another party. Another night where powerful people would stare at her with curiosity, pity, or hidden mockery. "That's Abhinandan Varada's mistress" "She used to be a classical dancer, right?" "What a waste." The whispers never ended. Ahalya closed her eyes tightly. Once, people looked at her with admiration. Now they looked at her like sin A knock came at the door. "Madam,""Sir is calling you downstairs." Her stomach tightened instantly. Fear had become instinct now. Ahalya wiped her tears before they could fall and forced herself to stand. No matter how broken she felt... He would still call. And she would still go. Because Abhinandan Varada always got what he wanted. Always. She slowly walked through the grand corridors of the mansion that looked more like a golden cage than a home. Guards lowered their heads as she passed. No one met her eyes. No one dared. There Abhinandan sat lazily on the couch, glass of whiskey in one hand, looking powerful enough to own the entire world. And maybe he did. But the moment his eyes landed on her, something dangerous softened in his expression. "There you are, little doe." The endearment made her chest ache. A year ago, she had been a rising dancer with dreams in her eyes. Now she trembled hearing a man call her with affection. He opened one arm toward her casually. "Come here." Ahalya stood frozen. Every instinct inside her wanted to run. But there was nowhere left to run anymore. Because the cruelest thing about Abhinandan Varada was not his power. Not his anger. Not even the darkness inside him. It was the way he destroyed her life... And then loved her among the ruins.

Reyansh had broken Aarohi's world with the cruel precision of a man who had never heard the word no, a man who mistook resistance for an insult and defiance for a declaration of war. His revenge had been a masterpiece of cruelty, crafted slowly, and with devastating accuracy. It was personal. It was intimate. But power, especially the kind built on fear and blood, always demands its price and Reyansh has finally begun to bleed for his sins. The woman he once trapped with his obsession, the woman he broke without mercy, is now the only one who can drag him out of the abyss he created. Redemption is a distant, brutal dream... but for the first time, he found himself caged in his own redemption, held by a need so powerful it could bring a man to his knees. Aarohi, however, wants nothing from him. Not his remorse and certainly not the love he never knew how to give; a love that came wrapped in chains, threats, and unspoken ruin. ~~~~~~~ Dive into a journey where revenge scars, redemption burns, and love becomes something worth killing.....and dying for.

This isn't for you if you like fairytales . It's not for soft hearted ones . " How many times ? " He asked gently, his frame close to hers . She was terrified beyond measure. " W.what ? " She dared to ask . He chuckled. " How many times shall I beat your disobedience out ? " " A.ab.abhimaan " she whisperd . " Mhm ? " he hummed. " M.maine k.kuch nahi k.kiya iss baar " She pleaded softly. " You weren't trying to escape guards ? " He asked , wiping her tears . She froze. " Can't function long with a dose , can you ? " He said while rolling his belt on his fist .

She is a small-town girl with stars in her eyes and dreams too big for the world she had grown up in. She wants to see the world, live freely, and write her own destiny. She is innocent and naive, but stronger than the suffering that tries to break her. One day, she will walk away from the life destiny has forced upon her and live on her own terms. And on that day, she will no longer be his surrogate...she will be just herself, a girl who never stopped chasing the stars.

She had not married him for love. Nor had it been a marriage born of tradition, arrangement, or even choice. When Navya Sharma, a naïve young woman of barely twenty-two, stood before the world as the wife of Advait Rathore, she stepped into a bond that was nothing less than a transaction. For him, it was profit-a move calculated, cold, and beneficial to his empire. For her, it was destiny's cruelest twist. Advait Rathore-twenty-eight years old, sharp-minded, ruthless, and carrying the weight of maturity and sin in equal measure-was no ordinary man. He was a king of shadows, a ruler of the underworld. And Navya? She was a lamb led into a lion's den, handed to him under the guise of a marriage that was never meant to bloom. All she had ever wished for was a husband she could call hers-a man who belonged to her alone. But destiny, merciless as ever, bound her to a man whose heart had already been claimed. His first wife was still alive. And worse-he loved her. For Navya, the truth was more bitter than betrayal. She was not a beloved wife; she was a replacement. A second choice. Perhaps even nothing more than a vessel-brought into his life to give him heirs, to strengthen his lineage, to serve a purpose. Yet beneath her quiet demeanor stirred a storm. Perhaps she was destined to be nothing more than a surrogate for his children... or perhaps fate had far greater designs. Because sometimes, in a world of power, blood, and betrayal, the one who enters quietly, unnoticed, can end up stealing the most precious thing a man possesses-his very soul.

Two rival Mafias pull each other's sisters into forbidden relationships to gain the upper hand. ♡____♤ Two mafia rivals. Two sisters who were never meant to be part of their war. Siya falls for a man who feels too real to be a lie. Charming. Dangerous. Addictive. But she doesn't know... he's the very enemy of her brother. And he knows exactly who she is. Rukmini isn't blind. She knows the man she craves will never love her. Knows she's nothing more than a habit he refuses to quit. Yet she stays... even when it destroys her a little more every time. One love is built on deception. The other survives on pain. In a world of power, blood, and betrayal- feelings are weaknesses. Trust is fatal. And when the truth finally comes out... they won't just lose love. They'll lose everything. {REDEMPTION ARC} {⚠️ MATURE CONTENT Contains strong language, drug use, and graphic violence. This story features problematic characters and mentions of trauma. Reader discretion is advised} Tropes: She fell first he fell harder. Brother's Enemy Slow Burn Mafia Romance Rival Mafia Families Enemies to Lovers (Twisted Version) Forbidden Romance Dark Romance Angst Fake love Unrequited Love Morally Grey Characters Toxic Love Multi couple

"Look at yourself," Zaid mumbled, taking her chin in his hand and forcing her attention. "You wouldn't survive an hour out there. You are a domestic thing, Shravya. You need walls, and you need a roof upon your head. You need me." "No! I hate you!" She shrieked, nails digging into his chest the same way they were tormenting the ground earlier. "You hate me, right?" He asked in a calm tone. "Yes! Yes, I hate you! Let me go!" "Fine." He let go of her chin and took a step back. His eyes gazed at all of her, in a tactile way, grazing the outline of her body beneath the sodden fabric of her dress. "If you want to go, then go naked." ▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪ Have you ever seen anyone wanting someone so desperately that the need drives them insane - eating them up from the inside? He said he had always loved me. Madly. From the outside, he was a beautiful man. But inside, he was a monster in human skin. To keep me, he crossed every line. Sinned again and again. He chopped the wings of my freedom, and caged me in his paradise. He ruined me. Destroyed me. But still, it wasn't enough. Why? Because insanity knows no limits. He didn't know either. ◀ | DARK PSYCHOLOGICAL HORROR | ▶ ◀ | MATURE CONTENT + DARK THEMES | ▶ ▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪ [ SCARED - Trapped For Infinity ] ▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪ All Rights Reserved 2020 © Panchi Verma