The Monster King

King Reyansh Singhania had never been taught the meaning of love or respect. Hell, he didn't even know how to treat a human being with any form of decency. Words like compassion, empathy, love, and care were foreign to him-concepts that held no place in his world. Why should they? He had no connection to them.

His reality was built on cruelty, dominance, and power. Growing up, the only lessons he learned were about control and ruthlessness. Women were nothing more than tools for his pleasure-sluts, whores, or disposable objects meant to bow before him and cater to his needs. He had never seen them as equals. For him, a woman was someone who would spread her legs and accept the pain he inflicted, not someone to be cherished or respected.

For Reyansh, emotions were a weakness. He buried them so deep, building walls around his heart higher than any fortress. He was a king, and kings do not love. They conquer. And love? Love was a betrayal he refused to entertain. It made him feel vulnerable, and vulnerability was something he could never afford.

But fate has a wicked way of breaking even the hardest of men.

Then came Kiara.

At first glance, she seemed ordinary-pale skin, striking green eyes, soft pink lips. Yet, there was something about her that defied the world he created for himself. She wasn't like the others. She didn't bow to his whims. She didn't give him the control he was used to having. She was fierce, unapologetically herself, and that fire ignited something Reyansh had long buried.

For the first time, he found himself unable to control the fluttering in his chest. He didn't know what to do with the emotions she stirred in him. He couldn't let her get away. He would break her to make her his.

She would be his whore, his slut, his mistress, his queen-his wife. She was his to love, to hurt, to hate, to dominate.

She was his. And no one, not even her, could escape the chains he would make for her.