Story cover for Twisted devotion by P_verse10
Twisted devotion
  • WpView
    Reads 3,283
  • WpVote
    Votes 149
  • WpPart
    Parts 36
  • WpHistory
    Time 2h 13m
  • WpView
    Reads 3,283
  • WpVote
    Votes 149
  • WpPart
    Parts 36
  • WpHistory
    Time 2h 13m
Complete, First published Mar 29
Mature
He is ruthless, entitled, and dangerously irresistible. She is innocent, sheltered, and completely unprepared for his obsession.

At Empire University, Rohan Malhotra rules with wealth, power, and a cruel smirk that makes even the boldest girls weak. The billionaire heir takes what he wants-and now, he wants her.

Priya Sharma has spent her life avoiding men like Rohan. Quiet, studious, and wrapped in tradition, she has no place in his world of reckless indulgence. But when she crosses his path, Rohan becomes fixated. He doesn't just want to corrupt her-he wants to own her.

What starts as a game of control turns into something far more dangerous. Rohan is willing to break every rule to keep Priya under his thumb. And as much as she fights him, some dark, hidden part of her starts craving the man she should fear the most.

He's a storm she can't outrun. A nightmare she can't wake up from.

And the deeper she falls into his world, the harder it becomes to tell the difference between hatred and desire, fear and longing, captivity and surrender.

A dark, obsessive romance where power is dangerous, love is twisted, and surrender is inevitable.
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The first time Niccolò De Rossi saw her, the world itself seemed to hold its breath. He had stepped out of his hotel with the easy arrogance of a man who ruled empires-steel and glass bent to his will, fortunes rose and fell at the flick of his signature. Women usually noticed. They always noticed. But she didn't. The girl by the fountain had ink smudges on her fingers, wind tangling her hair, sunlight caught in her laugh. She was sketching as if the marble lions before her were secret lovers confessing sins only she could hear. She didn't glance up at the sleek black car waiting for him, or at the doorman rushing to open doors. She only looked up when she felt him watching. And then-God help him-her eyes met his. Not hunger. Not awe. Not even recognition. Just curiosity, followed by the kind of dismissal no one had dared offer Niccolò De Rossi in years. It was supposed to be nothing. A fleeting look, a stranger's indifference. But instead, it burned through his veins, hotter than any deal, any conquest, any forbidden touch he'd ever taken. For the first time, the billionaire who had everything discovered something he could not command. And in that instant, Niccolò knew two things: 1. He would find her again. 2. When he did, he would not let her go-not from his bed, not from his life, not from the very bones of his existence