alienfromven_
They called him the Devil long before Shree learned what fear truly felt like.
Dante Morozov did not rule Europe with chaos-he ruled it with silence. Men disappeared, families crumbled, and cities learned to bow without ever hearing his name spoken aloud. Power clung to him like a second skin, tailored in black suits and blood-soaked legacy.
Shree met him on the night fate stopped pretending to be kind.
Rain poured as if the sky itself wanted her erased. She ran until her lungs burned-straight into a man who did not move aside. Dante's eyes found hers, dark and unhurried, as if death itself had paused to study her.
He should have killed her.
Instead, he watched.
"Don't run," he said softly, and somehow the world obeyed.
That was how it began-not with love, but with possession. Dante didn't ask who she was. He decided what she would become. A secret kept close. A weakness no one was meant to discover.
They would call her his doll.
Not because she was fragile-but because the Devil had chosen her.
And if anyone dared to break what belonged to him-
Dante morozov would burn the world down to ash.
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If you want, I can now:
Write Chapter One
Add Shree's POV immediately after this
Make it darker, more romantic, or more psychological
Just say the word. 🖤