Bound
- Reads 17
- Votes 2
- Parts 2
Tanzia was doing well on her own- more than well really. After closing the chapter on her abusive ex-husband, she decided life was about her. But what happens when a sinister man collides in her life and demands her time and attention? And even worse, what happens when closed chapters are re-opened? Some love stories are darker than others, and Tanzia is certain he's as dark as it gets.
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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.Complete
♤OWNED♤
this story is like all the other mafia husband and arrange marriage like yall read in wattpad but this one is my way or how I think would be good /this story has sexual content which means /smutt/ so read at your own risks Thank you so much for 2.99k #1 in roughtimesComplete![𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 [18+]](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/151666579-256-k779909.jpg)
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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.
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