*Chains of Raichand*

*Chains of Raichand*

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WpMetadataReadOngoing2h 16m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Jul 26, 2026
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Fiction
Romance
Chains of Raichand They say family is blood. For me, it's chains - binding, breaking, bleeding. Kyra Raichand doesn't have a childhood. She has a sentence. Three brothers. Three kings of pain, control, and obsession. They don't love her - they own her. They punish her until she's raw, break her until she's silent. And when the bruises fade, their cold hands stitch her back together - because she's theirs, and no one else's. There's no mercy behind their eyes. Only possession. No escape from the shadows they cast over her life. And the worst part? Kyra is trapped between hatred and the twisted, suffocating comfort only they can give.
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#90
darkness
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. On the day her twin sister "died," or that what she thought everything she knew shattered. She remembered the scream, the fall, the blood-and then the world changed. In the chaos, no one asked her what really happened. They didn't care to hear her version. Her parents, once the warmth in her world, turned cold overnight. The brothers who loved her most began to look at her like a monster. Whispers filled the house. Accusations behind closed doors. She was blamed, judged, and punished-not by strangers, but by her own blood. And then, without warning, they sent her away. A boarding school in another country, they said, as if it were for her own good. But it wasn't a school-it was a cage dressed in discipline. Far from home, far from love, she entered a place no child should ever be. Hidden behind iron gates and smiling lies, that school was a breeding ground for cruelty. Every corner held secrets. Every night was a nightmare. And no one ever came looking for her. Not a single letter. Not a single call. They forgot her- Years passed. . And then came the call. Her family wanted her to return. As if they still had the right to call her back. But the girl who left never came back-not really. What returns now is someone colder, quieter, sharper. She tells herself she feels nothing for them. That she's learned to live without love. That hatred is easier than hope. But buried beneath the years and pain, there is still a small voice inside her-a child's voice-aching to be believed, to be seen, to be forgiven for a crime she never committed. Will her family finally face what they've done? And when the truth comes out-will it set her free, or break her all over again?

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