Devil In The House? - peppery_salt - Wattpad

Story cover for Devil In The House? by peppery_salt

Devil In The House?

LETTURE 1,163
Voti 41
Parti 11
Tempo 58m

LETTURE 1,163
Voti 41
Parti 11
Tempo 58m

crime debutstory deception murder mystery nightmares siblingrivalry storyinastory suspense twist twistandturns whodunnit

A murder...
A book....
And nightmares...
The murder of her sister brings Mehak back to her hometown. As she returns, she gets hold of a book that Sarah wrote before dying. The book hits some untouched wires in her brain hard, and soon the line between reality and nightmares blurs.
She realizes that returning to the city was a mistake. Sarah had some secrets that, if spilt out, would threaten her peaceful life.Tutti i diritti riservati

crime debutstory deception murder mystery nightmares siblingrivalry storyinastory suspense twist twistandturns whodunnit

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11 parti

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This could have been a gentle story for quiet autumn evenings. But it shattered against Morphine - a chapter that will not let you stay indifferent. And now, you'll understand why. This is not a story about perfect love. It's about healing through pain, about love that blooms after trauma, and about the fragile line between salvation and obsession. She is a woman rebuilding herself from the ashes. Not strong - simply real. A mother. A fighter. A writer whose words cut deeper than truth itself. She doesn't want to be someone's muse - she only wants to be understood. He is the man the world worships... and fears. A legend. A symbol of an era. But behind the fame, there's a man haunted by his own darkness. Together, they are fire and gasoline - two broken souls learning how to love without losing themselves. Their story isn't a fairytale. It's an age-gap dark romance about redemption, grief, and the courage to love again. With touch. With words. With silence between the lines.

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His mistress

Loving him was the cruelest kind of torment-a love that lived in the shadows, one that could never bask in the warmth of the sun. I was nothing more than a stolen moment, a whispered name in the dark, a secret he tucked away between the life he had built and the one he wished he could have. I knew, deep down, that I was a fracture in his story, a fleeting escape from the weight of his reality. And yet, I still clung to him, to the illusion that for a few precious hours, he was mine. But the truth was relentless-it came in the form of unanswered texts, in the way he dressed hurriedly after loving me, in the way he said her name with the same tenderness he once gave me. I had given him my heart, knowing he would never be able to keep it, and yet, I loved him still. Loved him as I watched him walk away, loved him as he returned to the arms of the woman he truly belonged to, loved him as I drowned in the loneliness he left behind. Because no matter how much I wished it to be different, I was not his home-I was just a place he visited before going back to where his heart truly lived.