#𝟓 𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐬 They said grief changes people. But I remember when I looked at him, he didn't look broken. He looked awakened. Like a man who had finally found a reason to breathe again. Unfortunately, that reason was me. There's nothing loud about him. Forget raising his voice he barely speaks unless he has to. He just watches quietly, like a wolf waiting for its prey to stop running. When a man like him decides you're his, he doesn't need to say a word. He didn't have to touch me to make me feel trapped. He just had to look. And maybe that's what chains really are...not metal or rope, but the slow suffocation of being seen, claimed, and never asked if you wanted to be free. If the girl I was four years ago had seen who I am today, she would have laughed at herself, completely unaware that one day she would herself say that: Arhaan Mirza is my fate, my curse, my damnation and the chains of desire my soul refuses to break free from. ~ Arhaan X Eyana

Ira Verma never imagined her new job would land her inside the cold, echoing walls of the Rathore estate-a mansion guarded by silence, secrets, and the brooding presence of the man she's been hired to care for. Devraj Singh Rathore, heir to one of the most powerful families in India, is feared by many and understood by none. Bound to a wheelchair after a brutal attack, he shows no emotion, no warmth... and certainly no interest in the woman tending to him. At least, that's what Ira believes. What she doesn't know is that behind his still gaze lies a storm-dark, obsessive, and dangerously fixated on her. He watches when she's not looking, collects pieces of her she never gave, and burns with jealousy every time his younger brother dares to flirt with her. But Ira has a life outside this mansion. A fiancé her family chose. A future she thought she wanted. Devraj is done pretending. And when obsession begins to crack through restraint, Ira must face a chilling truth: You can only run so far... when the one who craves you is already inside your world.

BOOK ONE: FEROCIOUS LOVE CHRONICLES A wedding meant for love... stolen by madness." _______________________________________ Him: "Who deserves punishment, biwi?" Her: (barely audible, heart pounding) "M-me..." Him: (tilting her chin up, voice dark and unwavering) "And where, biwi? On our bed... or in the ashes of the man who dared to crave what's mine?" Her: (whimpering, body trembling) "P-please..." Him: (low chuckle, deadly possessive) "No, biwi. Please what?" He leaned in, his breath a sinful caress against her trembling lips. "Please what, baby? Use your words." "Beg me to break you. Beg me to make you mine-completely-until even your soul moans my name." His grip tightened, his fingers tracing fire down her skin. "Say it-" Her: (shuddering, surrendering) "Yours..." His lips hovered, his voice a dark whisper, laced with devotion and madness. ________________________________________ "You are the prayer my soul has bled for through lifetimes." "The flame my darkness bows before." "The only truth my chaos kneels to." "And now, biwi, you are bound to me-not by fate, not by destiny-by me." This isn't just dominance. This is obsession, possession, destruction, and worship-wrapped in the most sinful kind of love. Get ready to step into a world where love turns lethal, obsession burns wild, and surrender is the only escape.

𝐙𝐚𝐡𝐢𝐫 × 𝐃𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐯𝐢 | 𝟑𝟏 × 𝟐3 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐬: #𝟏 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐥 She saw him more than once. And every time, her heart betrayed her; racing, stumbling, fluttering like a caged butterfly chasing a memory. Her breath shortened, her chest tightened, and still, she said nothing. Because it wasn't her place. Because she was never meant to be seen. Until she was. Until the day she stood before him, not as a stranger in the crowd, but as his bride. The wrong bride. He had seen her before. Once in passing, her eyes barely a flicker in his peripheral vision, dismissed for a prettier pair. The second time, he saw her through a vow sealed in blood and duty. And rage erupted. Exacting. Demanding. She wasn't supposed to wear that dress. She wasn't supposed to carry his name. But now that she does... There's no turning back.

📚 Silk and Smoke Where silk whispers and smoke lingers, their love story begins. She's couture and command. He's chaos in quiet. Together - they could rewrite fate... or set it on fire. Ivikaa Ambani - the heiress who stitched Paris into her bones and stitched shut her heart. "Silk drips from her touch, fire hums beneath her ribs - Ivikaa, the princess of Paris by design." Adwait Agnivanshi - a man molded by Mumbai's alleys and armed with silence sharper than any scream. "Smoke doesn't scream - it smothers. Adwait, born from Mumbai's cracks, raised in its shadows." Between the bruises of power and the hush of devotion, their story unfolds - slow, aching, inevitable. Because when silk meets smoke... something always catches fire. Tropes : Billionaire X Billionaire Rich X Royal Paris X Mumbai Eldest Daughter X Youngest Son Fashion Designer X 10th Fail Spotlight X Shadows Ambani X Agnivanshi Silk X Smoke No cheating Trope!

#𝟑 𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐬 Have you ever wanted something so destructive that it feels like your insides are burning with hatred? Yet, ironically, you long to fall apart and be shattered by this destruction. But is it really destruction, or the beginning of something inevitable? Something specially designed to be a your ruin. He broke me, shattered my soul, and then just sat by, letting me ruin him. He was satisfied, and so was I. We healed, only to break again. We understood it, we are meant to be each other's, an obsession. I am his obsession and so is he mine. We are together until we will be buried dead inside the heaven of sins. ✮⋆˙ 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 ✮ ⋆˙ ~Amani x Zeeshan [all of my books can be read in any order, even though they mention the characters from other stories, but they are not linked]

𝔅𝔯𝔬𝔨𝔢𝔫 𝔅𝔯𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔖𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 #2 𝐶𝑎𝑛 𝑏𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑒 ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ Nitya Heer Tiwari had always been the strong one-the loyal friend, fierce and protective to her core. But when tragedy strikes, her life is shattered, leaving her a mere shell of who she used to be. Wracked with self-hatred and haunted by the past, she's lived in isolation, barely holding on. Now, an old threat resurfaces, threatening to destroy the last pieces of her fragile sanity. Desperate, she makes a choice she never imagined-striking a deal with the one man she vowed never to fall for. Aman Mehra. Flirtatious, charming, and irresistibly charismatic, he's the man everyone calls the "golden-retriever energy." But Nitya knows better. She's seen what lies beneath the surface, and she's sure she could never love someone like him. After all, the devil you know is better than the monster lurking in the shadows. Their agreement is simple: a marriage of convenience. He gets out of an unwanted engagement, and she gains his protection. But can a deal with the devil ever truly stay just business? A marriage of convenience. Or is it really? ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ 𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑖𝑛 𝐸𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠ℎ 🎀 𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 🔞⚠️ This book contains mature content intended for readers aged 18 and above. Reader discretion is advised.

𝐄𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐡 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐤𝐡𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐭 𝐱 𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐑𝐨𝐲 𝐊𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐫 While I was convinced that I owned this game, my wife stood by me in her 6 inch-high heels, screaming that she, too, owned it. A story in which the female lead is as lethal as the male lead. She used to have feelings for her older brother's best friend. She expresses her feelings to him, but he rejects her, calling her a kid. Five years later, she is no longer the 'kid' he rejected; instead, she is one of India's most powerful businesswoman. He is a filthy-rich heir, and she is a wealthy heiress. He believes that love does not exist, yet her love for him has become an obsession. Thus she can go to any length to win him. They sign a marriage contract not because he loves her, but because he wants to use her to secure power. Hence all the exuberant lives of the couples feign in front of the public could be contrary in actuality. ᴛᴏ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴀɴᴛꜱ ɢᴇᴛ ᴡɪʟᴅʟʏ ꜰᴜᴄᴋᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʜᴏᴏᴅ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ ᴡʜᴏ ɪꜱ ᴀʟꜱᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴇʟᴅᴇʀ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ'ꜱ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ.