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This is the prequel to Mr. Chief Minister but it’s a complete standalone story, as it will focus on Ruhanika’s parents, Shekhar and Naintara. 💫📖 They say marriage is just a word. But only those who live it know how heavy that one word truly is, how much of life, love, and loss it carries in its folds. Naintara understood that weight the day her father whispered two quiet pieces of advice into her ear before her vidaai. His words were simple, yet they stayed with her like invisible chains she would never be able to shake. Now, wrapped in the delicate shimmer of her bridal veil, she waited for the man whose name had become her destiny. Shekhar Raichand. She had only seen his face once, in a black-and-white photograph printed in a newspaper, a few weeks before her wedding. A man of calm eyes and cold posture. And tonight, she was to meet him not as a stranger… but as a wife. Her heart raced at the thought. She could still hear her friends’ teasing laughter, the girlish giggles, the promises that the first night of marriage would be the most beautiful night of her life. Her cheeks turned crimson beneath the veil. Like every young bride, she had dreamed of love that bloomed slowly, tenderly, of hands that would hold her, of a voice that would call her name softly. More than anything, she was happy that she would no longer be alone. Since her mother’s death, her world had been small, just her father, his silence, and her own loneliness. But now, that would change. She would have a family. A home. And someone who will be the reason for all…..him. The man she had never met. The man she was now bound to for life. Her pulse quickened as she heard footsteps outside. For a fleeting second, she lifted her veil and looked toward the door. Then, shyly, she lowered it again, heart thundering in her chest. And then, the door opened. For one fragile, fleeting heartbeat, she imagined everything she’d ever been told, the tenderness, the warmth, the beginning of something beautiful. But what came next was nothing like the stories. A sharp, furious voice cut through the still air like a blade. “What are you doing in my room?” The venom in his tone made her flinch. Before she could even process his words, Shekhar’s hand gripped her wrist, his hold firm, unforgiving. “Wh…what have I done?” she stammered, her voice trembling. He didn’t answer. He dragged her off the bed, his movements cold and mechanical, a man punishing a crime she didn’t understand. She barely managed to catch her breath before he pushed her toward the door. And then, with finality that split her heart in two, he said, “There’s no place for you in my life or my room. You’re only Jagdish Raichand’s daughter-in-law… not my wife.” The door slammed shut.
The Saga of Politics, Love, Betrayals, Duties, and Responsibilities •~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~• "Congratulations, Abhiraaj, you are going to become a father," Tejasvini said, hugging her son, but he was shocked. 'How could this happen?' he thought. He looked at her. Her cheeks are already stained with tears. When everyone left, he asked with an expressionless face, "The child is his?" Her world stopped, and she felt like someone stabbed her heart. Her heart shattered in a million pieces, and she felt broken for the first time. She never felt like this, even after so many betrayals. More tears welled up in her eyes. His back is facing her. His jaw is clenched, and his eyes are bloodshot red. He never imagined that, above all, she would ever betray him like this, that she would be unfaithful in this marriage.
🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞 ⚠️ 21+ mature content warning ⚠️ Around me, the world blurred, red velvet walls, strangers grinding, hands everywhere but it felt like all of them were looking at me. At my mask. At my smile. At my body shaking as Dev fingered me in plain sight. “You’re leaking for strangers,” he whispered, thrusting harder, faster, his palm smacking lightly against me with each push. “Ah…D!” I instantly bit back my tongue. “Do you know how filthy you are? You like this. My faceless whore, pretending to dance while I ruin your cunt.” A shudder ripped through me, my one hand clawing at the back of his neck and the other on his free hand, my head falling back and resting on his shoulder, face pressing against his jaw to hide the tears of pleasure pricking my eyes. I was completely on display. Strangers were watching me, hungry eyes everywhere and the more they looked, the more my body burned with desperate need. Dev’s hand might have been hidden behind the fabric of my dress, but every single person in that room knew exactly what the fuck he was doing to me. Slowly, the hand that had been gripping my waist slid upward until it reached my breast. He grabbed it hard, possessive, merciless and squeezed like he owned every inch of me. “Fuck!” the cry ripped out of me, because his hold was brutal, his fingers kneading me without a shred of mercy, sending shocks of filthy pleasure through my body. I was already unraveling, but then his next words made my stomach twist and my pussy clench so hard around his fingers I almost lost it. “Shall I pull this dress down, darling?” he growled against my ear, his tone dripping with dark, filthy promise. My hand instantly flew to his, the one clutching my breast. My nails dug into his skin, desperate, torn between stopping him and begging him to do it. The dress was off-shoulder, one hard tug, and my tits already colored blue and red in his hickeys would spill out in front of everyone. “Say it,” he demanded, his voice like pure sin. “Should I show them? Should I let these fuckers see how every inch of your body belongs to me? Full of hickeys. Show them these perfect tits they’re drooling over… tits I’ve claimed a thousand times, sucked raw, and fucked into submission until they’re only mine?” I wanted to scream. I wanted to beg. I wanted him to never stop.
Samriddhi is a hardworking girl whose only dream is to make her mother proud. In her life, her mother's failed married life created the biggest insecurities in her life. The only thing she is afraid of is getting committed to or falling for someone. She is afraid of getting attached because her insecurities and fears always make her think that she will end up like her mother. She has the same fate as her mother. But as we know, destiny always plays games, and this happened to her when Henry came into her life. Despite every denial, he is not ready to give up on her. "It's clear. You are always here, and you even missed your meeting when I was locked in the storage room." She replied confidently but took a step back. "Who told you that?" He asked, taking another step toward her. "I know that, and the proof is in today's paper and all over the media," she replied, taking another step back. "It has nothing to do with you, and don't you dare say that again that you are not worth it because nothing is more important than you." He replied, And now her back is hitting the wall, and he is just two steps away from her. "Why me?" she questioned him out of the blue. "Ask yourself," he replied. Is she going to fall for him? Or are the walls around her heart going to melt? Will Henry be able to make her believe in love?
"Just tell me that it was all a misunderstanding!" Unhone dard bhari awaz mein pucha, aur bebasi unki awaz mein saf sunai de rahi thi jisne mera dil kachod kar rakh diya. "Please, I am begging you." Yeh alfaaz jaise teeron ki tarah seedha dil ke paar ho gaye. Unki awaaz ki dard bhari kapkapahat, unki aankhon ki nami, aur woh bebasi jo unke har shabd ke saath aur gehri hoti ja rahi thi-sab kuch mujhe tod raha tha. Meri saanson ki raftaar tez ho gayi. Maine apni aankhein band kar li, jaise agar maine unki taraf dekha toh apne jazbaat par kabu na rakh paungi. Lekin meri chup, meri khamoshi, unke sawalon ka jawab de chuki thi. Aur shayad yehi jawab unke dil ko sabse zyada chot pahuncha gaya. Ek lamba sannata chha gaya. Main bas unki saans lene ki awaz sun sakti thi-tez, bechain, aur dukh se bhari hui. "Was that all a lie?" Unki awaaz ab ek kanpate hue ilzaam ki tarah lagi. "Did you never love me? Not even for a moment?" Meri ungliyan meri dupatte ko bechaini se muthhi mein jakkar rakhne lagi. Main unse aankhein nahi mila paayi. Phir unhone woh shabd kahe jo mujhe meri hi nazron mein gira gaye. "Was this marriage also a part of your plan?" Ab ki baar, unki awaaz mein sirf dukh nahi, ek toot chuki rooh ki goonj thi. Jaise har umeed, har yakeen, har pyaar ek pal mein bikhar gaya ho.
Music was his life, flowing through his veins like blood. She was always immersed in his music. His heart had been broken once, and since then, he had never truly connected with anyone. He had millions of admirers. But she only loved one. What will happen when these two travelers, walking completely different paths, collide? ******************* “Toh kya sach mai maan lu ke 2 mulaqaton mein mohabbat ho gayi hai aapko? Pehli ki yaad mai shayariyan ab tak likhte hain aap or 2 choti choti mulaqaton mein ab aapko Ishq bhi ho gya? (So, should I really believe that you’ve fallen in love in just two meetings? You still write poetry reminiscing about the first one, and now, after just two brief encounters, you’ve fallen in love too?)" Taalika asked in one breath, and Sufiyan's eyes widened in surprise because her family hadn't told her about Nasrin. So how does she know he was thinking? “Excuse me?” “What? Every Shayar is a heartbroken man. Okay. So, it's not hard to guess. I know you never talked about any past relationships in any of your interviews, but it's not hard to guess after listening to your heart-wrenching Shayari (poetry); it’s not at all difficult to guess.” Taalika said what was her real reason for denial because that's what she assumed, but little did she know her assumption was right while Sufiyan was torn apart if he would laugh or cry at her innocent question. “These are just stereotypes,” Sufiyan said with a soft chuckle. Taalika argued instantly. “But 99.09% of the time this stereotype is right.“ Her constant resistance forced Sufiyan to accept. “Then there are new rumors all over the internet that I started writing romantic Shayari for someone, then don't you believe that?” “How could I know?” “Because I wrote every single one just for you.” He said it in the heat of the moment and then froze for a moment. Taalika was also stunned after hearing his words. “Huh!” That's all that came out of her mouth, and her lips are slightly parted in surprise. “Wo hirni si aankhen aap hi ki hai jinhone mere sur taal bigad diye or mujhe baar baar mudke dekhne pe majbur kar diya. (Those doe-like eyes are yours, the very ones that disrupted my rhythm and compelled me to look back again and again.)” Sufiyan finally confessed that he never confessed to anyone.
The Story of Childhood Enemies Divided by religion but united by their broken souls. •~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~• "Marry me." Veer said, nonchalantly sipping his coffee. "Excuse me?" Noor asked in disbelief. "Are you even deaf now?" "I will never marry you. Not even in my nightmare." "Just a contract marriage for a year. otherwise marrying you? huh... never." "What do you think of yourself, Veer Singh Randhawa? Nikkah is not a joke." She replied, fuming in anger. "I know that's why I'm choosing you. You hate me as much as I hate you. So you will never fall for my charms, and you are rich, so you will never agree to this contract just for money. simple." He replied, flashing his toothy smile. "Breathing the same air with you is poisonous for me; how could you even imagine that I would ever agree with such nonsense of yours? I would prefer to die rather than be your fake wife." She replied, getting up from her seat and storming out. ____________________________ "Bhai-bhaijaan (brother). He is ve-veer my husband." She shuttered, and her brother was enraged in anger. "You know he is a Hindu." Her brother asked with a clenched jaw. "ye-yes..." Before she could complete her sentence, her brother raised his hand to slap her, and she closed her eyes. but the blow never hit her. She opened her eyes slowly and saw Veer holding her brother's hand. "Mr. Shah, no one has a right to raise his or her hand on my wife, Noor Veer Singh Randhawa. Not even her brother." Veer said, smiling, and left his hand.
🔞 warning ⚠️ the book will contain many mature scenes and language as well. I am already giving a triggered warning here. So better start reading before making your mind. ________________________________ This book is going to tell the story of when fire meets fire. What will happen when the God of Death meets a devil in disguise of an angel ? To know more about them, read the prologue, and if you have already read the prologue, then be ready for the crazy, lusty, and dark ride.
Tried poetry for the first time
🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞 Trigger warning: mature content alert ⚠️ explicit language; 21+ scenes. Please stay away if you have issues reading mature fantasies. Read at your own risk, and if you don't have any issues, then enjoy😌 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Hmne tumhara nikha pakka ker diya hai."(We have fixed your marriage.) Her grandmother said, "With whom?" Anabiya asked, confused. "Mustafa." Her mother, Farhaana, replied. "No, I don't want to marry him." Anabiya denied it instantly, and everyone looked shocked at her. "Please give us a moment." Mustafa said this while getting up from his seat and dragging her out. "Why not?" he asked, pining her to the wall. "Because you are not romantic." She replied boldly. "Oh." He chuckled. "After marriage, I'll show you how romantic I can be." He said that and cupped her womanhood. She gasped, and he said, "Ye sirf, meri hai."(This only belongs to me.) Anabiya gulped nervously, and he took a step back but instantly came forward and bit her earlobe and whispered, "Taiyar Rehna." (Be prepared)
This story contains theme of domestic violence, onscreen rape and too much adult content 🔞 •~•~••~•~•~••~•~•~•~•~••~••~• "Aaaaaaa," a moan escapes my mouth, and that's encouraged him. He started trusting me even harder, and I'm a moaning mess. Do I really enjoy this? How could I? This man, who is my husband, fucks me every night against my will. I'm enjoying this. How pathetic could I be? Or is this who I really am? Well, there's nothing wrong with this; after all, he is my husband. What if he is a little older than me? I don't know, but all I know is that I can't control myself right now. His every thrust is taking me into heaven. I started liking this. I dig my nails in his back and moan his name for the first time. "RAJJJJ.....AAHHHHH....." He fucks me more, and I'm moaning a mess.
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