ANIKA : His Bride. His Prisoner

.its ongoing guyss ~

She was forced into the marriage
But he? He was already obsessed.

Anika Vaidya was innocence personified - soft-spoken, kind-hearted, untouched by the filth of his world.

So Rudra Singh Rathore did what monsters do best.
He didn't woo her.
He took her.

Now she's in his mansion, wearing his name... and fighting every breath he steals from her.

"Let me go," she whispered, eyes burning with defiance.
He smirked, caging her between the wall and his chest.
"Go where, jaan? You belong right here... under me."

She calls it a prison.
He calls it home.

He doesn't need her love.
He needs her obedience - her trembling, her silence, her surrender.

"I hate you," she hissed, shoving at his chest.
"Good," he whispered against her lips, "because I hate waiting. And tonight, you won't have a choice."

This isn't a love story.
It's obsession wrapped in sindoor, sealed with vows, and dripping with sin.

And the more she resists... the darker he becomes.

⚠️ Possessive husband. Forced vows. Steamy tension.
Read only if you're ready for dangerous love that breaks all rules.

~!!

"I want a divorce," she said again - firmer this time.
He didn't move.
Rudra Singh Rathore sat at the edge of the bed, ankles crossed.
"I'm not asking. I'm telling you." she said.
he looked up . slowly . Then, that damned smirk curved across his lips.
"Divorce?"
"Come here, Anika. I'll give it to you."

I blinked. "What-"
Before I could move, his book dropped with a thud
and in three steps he had gripped my wrist, yanked me forward, and dragged me across the room.
"Rudra!" I gasped.
He threw open the bathroom door - wide, revealing the foggy mirrors and marble counter - and slammed it shut behind us, locking it with a click that sounded far too final.

"You want divorce?" he whispered, nose brushing my jawline.
"Then take it from here.,jaan!"
"You want freedom?" he whispered.
"Beg for it. But not with words. With moans."