"Four weeks are up, Zoravar, You promised me that after final Pooja, you'll send me back to mumbai" she said, her voice brittle. "I did the pooja. I'm leaving." Shourya stepped out from the shadows of the staircase, blocking the exit. He didn't move; he just loomed. She froze, looking from the younger brother to the elder. Zoravar stood by the window, his tailored suit sharp enough to cut. He didn't look at her; he looked at the mountains. "I have a flight in three hours," she snapped, reaching for the door handle. It didn't budge. "Unlock the door." Zoravar finally turned. His gaze was a slow, suffocating weight. "There is no flight. I had it removed from the schedule this morning." Navanya's heart hammered against her ribs. "You promised. You said one month and I'd be free!" "I lied," Zoravar said, his voice a terrifyingly calm thread of silk. "I needed you compliant for the ritual. Now that it's done, the truth is much simpler." "You can't keep me here," she whispered, her lungs tightening. Shourya stepped closer, his presence a wall of heat behind her. "We spent two years searching for those marks on your skin, sweetheart. You think we're letting you go back to a desk job in Mumbai?" "I'm a guest!" she cried. "Are you sure? Wife....." Zoravar corrected, his hand finally rising to graze the mole on her cheek with possessive slow-motion. "You're our wife, we are married during last ritual. you're our wife. Shourya and I are your husbands" "No, That never happened" she choked out. Zoravar leaned down, his breath over her ear. "Welcome home, My Queen. Don't bother screaming. The mountains don't have ears." #1 in #polygamy on 3rd June 2026 #2 in #controlling on 3rd June 2026

__𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝟏__ ✦ 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐃 ✦ 𝑺𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒕. 𝑯𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔. 𝑭𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒊𝒔. Sophia was naive, ordinary, a village girl with a simple dream-to see the king's palace. One day, curiosity woke her. Innocent, childish, she walked into the grand halls... unaware she had just caught the eye of the ruthless king. From that moment, she would no longer be just a girl-she would become HIS OBSESSION. King Adrian sat on his throne, dark and terrifying. The hall trembled; heads bowed, no one dared meet his eyes. Then the gates opened. Guards dragged a small, trembling girl to his feet. "Your Majesty... we found her roaming the palace," they said. Thrown to the floor, Sophia looked up at king, voice shaking. "I... I just wanted to see the palace..." Everyone flinched at his gaze-but she dared to meet the king's eyes. And in that moment... she became his obsession. Top Ranks ❤️ 30 March 2026 #1 captivity #1 naivegirl #1 ruthlessking #1 Dark All in first rank ❤️ 🥺 #2 manipulation #2 childish #4 dangerouslove #4. #forcedproximity

Privious name of this book : Twisted Obsession : A Mafia Romance "obssetion? No, kiddo. What I feel for you is much darker than that." ✦ ─────────────── ✦ "Run if you want kiddo. I enjoy the chase." ✦ ─────────────── ✦ Slap He didn't touch his cheek. He didn't blink. Something inside him simply shut down-the human part. What was left was the Beast. Not rage-rage is loud. This was control. This was the silence of the deep ocean. He stepped closer, invading her space until she was forced to "Interesting," he murmured. That was all. No explosion. No shouting. And that frightened her more than any roar ever could. He reached out and took her wrist. His grip was firm, unavoidable-a band of iron that didn't squeeze, but simply ended her freedom. "Do you know," he said, his voice lowering to a register that vibrated in her bones, "how many people pray I don't notice them? How many men have died just for looking at me the wrong way?" His thumb pressed lightly against her pulse. Her heartbeat was frantic, a trapped bird. "And you," he continued, his eyes darkening into twin voids of obsidian, "raise your hand on me." He released her wrist suddenly, only to grab her upper arm with a strength that brooked no resistance. He began to drag her. Not toward the house. Not toward the towels. He dragged her toward the dark, restricted end of the pool-the section where the water was deep, shadowed by the overhanging architecture. "Advay, stop! You're hurting me!" He didn't respond. He didn't even seem to hear her. He stepped down into the water first, fully dressed in his charcoal trousers and silk shirt. The surface changed around him, shifting and swirling as if recognizing its master. Then, she saw them. Five shadows beneath the surface. Massive. Sleek. Moving in a rhythmic, terrifying orbit. There are Sharks . Vrishti's breath froze in her throat. "No," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Ad

Rohit Sippy-rich, spoiled, and a notorious playboy-lived a life of opulence and excess, where rules were mere suggestions and consequences were for others. But everything changed when he crossed paths with Sonakshi, a naive and breath taking beautiful orphan who had left her small town behind in pursuit of her dreams. What began as a twisted infatuation soon spiraled into a dangerous obsession. Rohit, consumed by his own illusions and insecurities, wove a web of charm and deceit to ensnare her. Sonakshi, blinded by his illusion and the allure of his charm she had never known, fell into his trap. She respected the man he pretended to be, only to realize too late the monster lurking beneath the surface. Rohit's love was never pure-it was laced with hate, lust, and a need to possess. As his obsession deepened, he became cruel, ruthless, and morally bankrupt, crossing every line to keep Sonakshi bound to him. His love was no longer love-it was an insatiable desire, a fire that consumed everything in its path. Five years later, Rohit has become his darkest self-a man stripped of humanity, driven by an intensity that borders on madness. Sonakshi, once a symbol of innocence, now bears the scars of his relntless pursuit. But as the lines between love and hate blur, both are forced to confront the devastating consequences of their twisted bond. This is a story of obsession, betrayal, and the destructive power of desire. It's a tale of two souls entangled in a love that is as beautiful as it is toxic, as passionate as it is destructive. **Warning:** This story is not for the faint of heart. Rohit Sippy is a morally grey, intense, and unapologetically flawed character. If you cannot handle dark, complex narratives or characters who defy conventional morality, this is not the story for you. Enter at your own risk-and if you're easily offended, kindly leave . This is a world where love and darkness collide, and not everyone will make it out unscathed.

In the dimly lit corridors of Rathore Mansion, shadows whispered tales of love turned venomous, of trust shattered and souls broken. The grandeur of the estate was a stark contrast to the darkness that enveloped its inhabitants, particularly Aparajita, whose life had become a nightmarish symphony of hatred, abuse, and betrayal. Once the epitome of grace and strength, Aparajita now found herself caged by the very man who had vowed to protect her. Abhimaan Singh Rathore, her husband, had transformed into a relentless captor, driven by a sinister obsession. His manipulative tricks had woven a web of conspiracy so tight that even Aparajita's innocence couldn't save her from his clutches. Standing over her frail figure, Abhimaan's eyes glinted with a dark satisfaction. He leaned in close, his voice a chilling whisper that sent shivers down Aparajita's spine. "You thought you could escape me, Aparajita? That you could find solace and freedom? No, my dear, you are mine. As long as I breathe, you will remain caged, a prisoner of my will. Every breath you take, every tear you shed, will remind you of your place-here, under my control, where you belong." The mansion's walls echoed with the weight of his words, sealing Aparajita's fate in a prison far worse than any physical chains could ever bind. In the heart of luxury, she was ensnared in a dark tale where love was a distant memory, replaced by a sinister dance of power and possession.

"Vikram..." she rasped, her voice a broken, wet whisper. "Please... I'm sorry... I won't... I won't fight you anymore. Just... let me go. Please." Vikram stopped. He tilted his head, a faint, unsettling smirk touching his lips as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick roll of heavy-duty medical nylon restraint strips. "Let you go?" Vikram asked softly, his voice smooth as silk. "Haven't you heard what Dr. Sharma said, jaan? You are suffering from severe manic psychosis. You hurt yourself. You need complete, uninterrupted bed rest." Panic surged through Meera's veins, fighting against the drugs. She tried to pull her hand back, but Vikram's grip caught her wrist with bone-crushing force. He tied her wrist and ankles to bedpost. "No-stop, please-!" she choked out, her voice breaking into a terrified sob. "There," Vikram murmured, smoothing down the blanket over her chest with horrifying gentleness. "Now you won't fall out of bed during your delusions."

NISHAAMOH SERIES ONE🥀 ༺𝑫𝒆𝒗𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒉 𝑺𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒉 𝑹𝒂𝒋𝒑𝒖𝒕༻ X ༺𝑵𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒂 𝑴𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒌༻ ◉✿𝕋𝕣𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕤✿◉ ♡ Revenge (Ofcourse). ♡ Explicit scenes ♡ Bre@stfeeding & Navel Paglu ♡ Pain and Ple@sure ♡ An@l ♡ Family bonding ♡ Kn¡fe Play (Mild) ♡ Dark romance ♡ Bloody wars ♡ Mystery thriller ♡ Secrets ♡ Most Importantly 👇🏻 "𝑺𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒑 𝒐𝒇𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒅𝒅𝒂𝒎𝒏 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚" ♡♡ TABAH ISHQ: His Obsessed Bride is a dark, desi historical romance of power, pride, and possession, where hatred fuels obsession and love becomes the most dangerous sin of all📚

"aap yeh kya- kya k- kar rahe hai " she asked timidly. "nothing just worshiping my biwi,hmmm" he said while wearing her anklets. "b- but ---"she closed her mouth as he warned her just by his eyes not to talk. she was continuously looking at him as he was the most beautiful thing in the world well yes for her ,he is. he slowly kissed her feet as she flinched by sudden touch. "a--aap yeh kyun ,aap humare pair nhi chu sakte " as she finally said after keeping her encourage. " kyun pati hai tumhare ,tumhare pair kya har ek chiz par humara hak hai ,samjhi? " he asked while raising his eyebrows. "ji,p-par---" " ab so jao kafi raat ho gayi kal subah uthna bhi hai , aur maa ne kaha tha ki abhi kuch rasame aur hai"he said while turning to the night lamp to blow off . she slowly laid on the bed as his one arm was under her head and second was grasping her waist tightly as he would loosened a bit she will go away. Tropes:- arrange marriage. sarpanch biwi village 1970's mature content 18+ enjoy reading the story....

His eyes told how dark his thoughts were, what devilish aura he shadowed if she accepted him and was ready to listen to him no one could imagine his doings. She only seeks solitude, but he seeks her, and he craves her as if his life depended on her. He is the cause of her pain. She only wishes to go away from all the emotions, but he can never let that happen. He can show his tears to her, but can she wipe them? Maybe God wanted to create an unforgettable story. His aura screams power that no one can deny except bowing. Her soul reflects others' sins for what others fear to acknowledge. Did she hate him for giving her pain? No, she never hated him. She changed herself.. but what change? She loves him! Maybe not... then what changed...? Love, why is it so difficult either to gain or to lose... "I don't like it when you think about things other than me," he said Is this the start of his madness, or is he already drowned in insanity? She is his heart.........She is the eternal echo God cast into existence for his life. ●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●● He is taking every step near to her, his deep dark eyes looking at her serene, calm face... she is looking directly into his deep, dark ebony eyes... she can clearly see the insanity in his eyes... "Sweetheart, I told you not to think about other things.... but why would you like to provoke me... ha, " his voice is deadly low, sending an electrifying jolt. She is just standing in front of him looking into his sinister soul... He touched her cheek gently, rubbing the soft, gentle, dried tear marks.. He kissed her forehead... she closed her eyes, accepting her fate from which she tried to run away.... "Tell me, sweetheart, what punishment should I give him." A dark mysterious smirk playing on his handsome face... "He is your sister's soon to be husband," she said as he didn't know. He chuckled, a mocking, sinister, extremely insane smile

𝐇𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝. 𝐇𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐚𝐳𝐞. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧... 𝐇𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐨. 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫. "Please... don't do this. I'm scared," she whispered, her voice shaking, barely louder than her own heartbeat. He didn't step back. Didn't blink. A slow smirk curved his lips - not warm, not kind... the kind that made the air feel thinner. "Scared?" he said quietly, almost amused. "You should be." Her breath hitched. "I'm not going to hurt you," he continued, voice low and controlled, "unless you give me a reason to." "𝐒𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨" Top ranks ❤️ 3 #stalker 9 #dangerouslove 8 #controlling 30 April 2016