Pretty Poison.

Two souls. One accident. A twist in the book called life.

For Aleeza and Izaan, it happened in the most painful way possible, like life itself was mocking their grief.

It wasn't love for them, no, it wasn't. It couldn't be.
It was death, it was fire, it was inferno.

Nobody knew they would get tied to each other-nobody knew they would hate each other.

It was a marriage wrapped in hate, disgust, bullets.
It was a marriage personally planned and plotted by the same written destiny that wrote the fire in their lives.

In all the loathe, in the disgust that polluted the air when they stood to close, mercy wasn't an option.

But, maybe, beneath the remains of the fire, some spark still hadn't died, maybe under all that hate coupled with disgust-there was a fire not that burn but that from which the hearts lit.