πͺπππππ : π―ππ π«ππππππ π«πππππ
πππππ πππππ πππππππ
He was a man untouched by desire.
A man who built walls so high, even his own shadow couldn't climb them.
Anmol Singh Raizada-ruthless, arrogant, self-disciplined to the edge of cruelty. Women were nothing to him. He never looked. He never touched. His path was clear, his devotion bound to Mahakal. Until her. Until ππ‘π‘ππ―π’.
She wasn't meant to be his.
But fate didn't ask.
And now, he doesn't intend to ask either.
When his obsession finally claims her, his voice whispers against her trembling skin, "You are the first woman these hands have touched... and the last they ever will. I have chosen you. And now... you are mine. Mine to protect. Mine to destroy. Mine to worship in the darkest ways."
His touches aren't gentle-they are fierce, consuming, driving her to the edge of pleasure and fear.
His obsession isn't soft-it's dangerous, a wildfire that can scorch the world if anyone dares come between them.
She is the only thing he ever allowed himself to crave.
And now, he will burn kingdoms, shatter rules, and tear the earth apart to keep her.
This is not love.
This is madness.
This is a man's ruin-and a woman's surrender.
