Jatt di pasand

Jatt di pasand

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing12h 53m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Sep 16, 2026
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Fiction
Romance
He is the law of Mohali. She is a storm he intends to cage. At thirty-two, Arjan Singh Dhaliwal operates in a world where power is absolute, promises are binding, and his word is the final law. As a ruthless, sharp-tongued MLA, he doesn't know how to negotiate, and he certainly doesn't know how to lose. When he sets his dark, piercing gaze on the fierce and beautiful daughter of the Bajwa house, he doesn't just want her hand in marriage...he wants absolute ownership of her heart, her defiance, and her destiny. At twenty-five, Dr. Kudrat Kaur Bajwa has dedicated her life to healing, independence, and the open sky. She is an untamable sparrow with a spicy resilience and a stubborn heart. But a single sight at her, binds her to the powerful Dhaliwal lineage, turning her world upside down. Forced into a marriage wrapped in grand Punjabi traditions, heavy crimson velvet, and ancestral pride, she vows never to bow to the arrogant politician who claimed her. "Look at what you just did! You dragged me like an animal! You don't want a wife, Arjan Dhaliwal, you want a slave! You want to kill my dreams, my career, my identity! You want to lock me in your mansion!" "Je agli vaar pair vi baahar kaddia, te main lataan bhann deniyaan teriyaan. (If next time you even step a foot outside, I will break your legs myself.) I will do whatever it takes to keep you right where you belong......beside me." ... This is a punjabi story, contains translation... Tropes: 1. Age Gap (32 & 25) 2. Alpha / Morally Grey Male Lead 3. Fierce / Independent Female Lead 4. Arranged Marriage / Forced Proximity 5. Possessive male lead 6.He Falls First & Harder
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- The Haveli She pushed open the heavy wooden door to their bedroom. She barely took one step inside before a hand-large, calloused, heavily ringed-clamped onto her waist from the shadows. She was yanked backward. The door slammed shut behind her. "Vikram," she breathed out. He spun her around, pinning her back against the wooden door. The room was dark, but his eyes were gleaming like a predator's. He was in a black silk kurta, his jaw locked so tight a muscle ticked in his cheek. "Neeche " Vikram's voice was a dangerous, heavy growl. "Un lukhon ke gelya ghani hass-hass ke baat kar ri thi aap?" Vani looked up at him, her heart doing a frantic flutter against her ribs, but she kept her voice light. "Woh toh bas aise hi... normal baat kar rahi thi main," Vani said, trying to sound completely unaffected. Vikram gently caught her hand, lifting it between them. His thumb pressed firmly against her dark mehendi, right over the spot where his identity was traced into her skin. "Bhul gayi ke kiska naam lagya se aapki mehendi mein?" Vikram asked, his voice dropping to a low, lethal whisper full of raw ownership. "Neeche sab dhoondh rahe honge mujhe... chaliye neeche," Vani whispered, placing her free hand on his chest to lightly push him, an obvious attempt to escape the overwhelming tension. "Shh." And before Vani could formulate a single thought, Vikram leaned down and captured her lips. It wasn't gentle. It was a deep, breath-stealing, intensely possessive kiss that consumed her completely, leaving no doubt in her mind-or his-about exactly who she belonged to. ------------------- But fires like this don't start in a single day. It started much earlier. It started on a completely normal afternoon, when a highly irritable, Ludo-obsessed girl from South Delhi looked at the most dangerous politician in Rohtak... and completely mistook him for a dhaba uncle. Warning'*s⚠️ #18+ #Mature language #Abusive language #College lovestory #Happy ending #Dark romance

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