MaitreyeeMohanty

This is a very unique take on our favorite couple Anidita. Alag he yet ot will give pura og Barrister vibes.Make u feel nostalgic yet it completely different than others stories u have hone through.Ek lag perspective he yanha.Ek behad khobsurat aur kafi sundar book hai written by Anuradha Sengupta.Guys  please give it a try.I am sure u will love it. Link is given below
          	https://www.wattpad.com/story/393480689-chains-of-silence-wings-of-hope

MaitreyeeMohanty

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Nirvikawrites

Hello 
          Are you interested in reading a book written by a Telugu author?
          
          A reluctant bride, a wounded heart, and a calm man who chooses patience over possession. 
          Married for convenience after being sacrificed twice for her family’s greed, she enters a third marriage carrying scars no one sees. He offers safety, respect, and quiet devotion—without knowing her past.
          
          This is a slow-burn tale of arranged marriage, emotional healing, and a love that waits… asking only one question:
          Can a heart that survived sacrifice finally choose happiness? ✨
          
          
          https://www.wattpad.com/story/402430920?utm_source=android&utm_medium=link&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details_button&wp_uname=Nirvikawrites

itswriterchez

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The room was divided.
          
          Bondita pressed her lips together, torn between amusement and propriety. Anirudh’s brows arched, as if silently questioning Aarohi’s audacity. Batuk chuckled quietly, while Somnath … somnath simply stared, bewildered and fascinated.
          
          For Aarohi, heat rushed to her cheeks. Shit. They probably think I’m parading around half-naked. Great job, Aarohi. Fashion crime of the century.
          
          Bondita finally broke the silence, her tone gentle yet firm. “Aarohi, perhaps tomorrow we shall arrange proper attire for you. Tonight… let us eat.”
          
          Kaka huffed but stayed silent. Shubhra quietly served more food, diffusing the tension. The clatter of plates slowly replaced the awkwardness.
          
          Aarohi sat down, muttering to herself, “At least the food hasn’t time-traveled. Thank God for Bengali cuisine.”
          
          The night wore on. Between nervous laughter, curious glances, and sharp stares, one truth settled in the Roy Chaudhary Mansion —
          
          Aarohi was no longer just a guest. She was becoming part of their story.
          
          And destiny had only just begun its game.
          
          ---
          
           End of Chapter 5:- The embrace of destiny
          
          

itswriterchez

At Dinner :-
          
          The long wooden table stretched like a royal court. Brass plates gleamed under oil lamps, bowls of steaming rice, dal, and sabzi filling the air with warmth.
          
          The family gathered. Kaka’s face still stiff with disapproval, Shubhra Roy Chaudhary calm as ever, Anirudh and Bondita dignified, Binoy thoughtful, Somnath quietly watching, Arvind amused.
          
          And then… Aarohi entered.
          
          Wearing her night suit.
          
          A soft cotton pajama set, button-down, utterly normal to her. But in this house — in this time — it was a cultural earthquake.
          
          Silence fell.
          
          Shubhra’s eyes widened. Kaka nearly dropped his spoon. Batuk bit back a laugh. Somnath’s eyes grew large with shock… and something else. Bondita’s hand froze mid-air.
          
          Gasps escaped. The helpers, Koyeli and Bihari, exchanged glances.
          
          Koyeli (whispering, simple Hindi): “Arey, didi ne toh raat mein bhi mela ka poshak pehna hai.”
          
          Bihari (grinning): “Lagta hai angrez raat ko bhi tayyar rehte hain.”
          
          Kaka slammed the table. “Yeh kya hai?! Raatri mein bhi angrezi ashleel vastra?! Maryada ka naash ho raha hai!”
          
          Aarohi froze, blinking innocently. “What? This? Pajamas! Super comfy, breathable. Everyone wears this in… uh… London.”

itswriterchez

The guest room was nothing less than royal. A carved four-poster bed with silk curtains, brass lamps glowing, silver combs lined neatly on the dresser.
          
          Aarohi’s jaw dropped. “Wow… this is like some five-star heritage suite. Netflix would kill for this set!”
          
          Bondita chuckled faintly. “I don't know ki tumne kya bola, but I’m glad you like it. Abhi thura sa aaram  karo muh haath dhulo..... Than we’ll meet you at dinner....okkk!!”
          
          Alone, Aarohi collapsed onto the bed, hugging a pillow, laughing and crying at once.
          
          “They actually fought for me. Par Dadu, Par Dadi… real life superheroes. If only they knew who I am…”
          
          ---