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⚠️ Mature Content Warning:
This story contains intense romance, emotional obsession, and adult themes. Recommended for readers 18+.
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The conference hall buzzed with polite applause, but her eyes locked on him immediately. Aryan Singh Rathore-tall, commanding, dangerous-and yet, impossibly hers.
"Arushi Rajawat," he murmured, voice low, teasing, "still chasing perfection while the world waits?"
She lifted her chin, fire in her gaze. "I chase my dreams. Not men who hide in shadows and play with lives."
A slow, wicked smile curved his lips. "Shadows? You mean me?"
Her pulse raced. Every glance, every subtle movement reminded her of nights she'd tried to forget-and failed.
Dinner ended. City lights reflected in his eyes as he stepped closer, so near that her breath caught.
"I've waited," he whispered, "longer than you could imagine. And I always get what I want."
She pulled back, defiance blazing. "I'm not yours to take."
Then, without warning, he brushed her lips-a soft, fleeting kiss that left fire burning in her veins. Her body ached, heartbeat thundered, yet her mind screamed to resist. Every nerve alive, every heartbeat echoing him.
She gasped, fury and desire colliding. "I don't... fear you."
"You will," he murmured, fingers tracing hers, "because you already belong... in every heartbeat of me."
And in that stolen moment, she realized some desires could never be tamed, not by reason, not by time.
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He was waiting outside the OP, there for his student who had been injured during a fight over a phone. As he sat, casually glancing at his own phone, he suddenly heard the faint sound of a baby crying. Curious, he turned toward the sound-and froze.
There, outside the pediatric care unit, sat his wife with their son crying in her arms.
His heart ached-it had been months since he last saw his son. His gaze shifted to his wife, gently consoling the child. Her face looked tired, pale, and completely drained.
Without a second thought, he stood, tears welling in his eyes. Each step he took felt heavy, his chest tightening with every cry from his son.
As he neared, he saw her clothes were faded and worn. Her feet were bare, hardened from walking-clearly straight from the farm. His heart clenched.
His eyes moved to his son-he had grown so much. She was so focused on calming the baby that she didn't notice him at first. Tears filled her eyes as she held their feverish child close.
He softly called her name.
Startled, she looked up-and froze. Then she quickly lowered her gaze and tried to get up. He gently placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. She sat back down, turning her face away, quietly wiping her tears.
He reached out to take their son. The moment he held him, he felt the heat-his little body was burning with fever. A chill ran through him. After all these months, seeing his child like this was unbearable.
He loved his wife and son deeply, but his loyalty to his mother-and obedience to her word-always came first.
Between a mother who owned his soul and a wife who held his heart, he was a man torn in a cruel war of love and loyalty.
And she-she had given her all to a promise whispered beneath the sacred fire... never knowing that one day, she'd be holding her child, with nothing but a faded vow.