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WpMetadataReadEn cours d'écriture<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeDernière publication dim., août 25, 2019
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Fiction
Romance
Mots-clésromance
Esta vida es cruel, todo el mundo lo sabe, pero ¿de verdad es tan cruel como para arrebatarle su madre a una niña de 7 años delante de sus narices? Parece ser que esa pregunta va rondar en mi cabeza toda la vida. Mi madre murió cuando yo tenía 7 años, volvíamos de una tarde de compras juntas y esperábamos el metro cuando vimos acercarse a dos hombres, yo me asusté porque no parecían buenas personas. Mi madre me puso detrás suya al verles sacar un arma, los hombres le pidieron el bolso y mi madre se lo dió por miedo a que me hicieran algo pero le dispararon igualmente.
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A marriage neither wanted. A hatred neither understands. Two strangers tied by a past that stains everything between them. He never wanted a wife. Especially not her. Cold, distant, and poisoned by assumptions, Amaan enters the forced marriage with one intention- to keep his distance and keep his resentment alive. Asmaira enters with something far heavier- guilt. Not to protect him. Not to save him. But because she knows the truth of what happened... and she cannot bear to confess it. They have never met. But the moment they do, the air turns sharp- full of tension, unspoken accusations, and the kind of hate that feels too much like longing. He despises her for a sin she never committed. She punishes herself for a sin she never confessed. And marriage turns into a battleground where silence is a weapon... and closeness is a threat. In this house, love is impossible. Trust is deadly. But hatred? Hatred is the only thing keeping them alive.

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