Henry's pov
We are all tensely waiting in the hospital for the doctor to say something about our grandma's condition.
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On a cold and bitter Christmas Eve, ten-year-old orphan Seb was caught stealing bread to survive, enduring the cruel punishment of a shopkeeper. But in his darkest hour, hope arrived in the form of eight-year-old Bella, whose kind heart shone brighter than the Christmas lights around them. She gave him the money for food, her cherished chain to buy a warm coat, and something even greater—a belief in the goodness of humanity. Years passed, and Seb transformed his life, rising to success with her small act of kindness as his guiding light. But every Christmas, his heart aches for the girl who gave him hope. For twenty years, he’s searched tirelessly for her, yearning to thank her and discover the woman behind the memory. As destiny begins to weave its magic, will their paths cross again? And if they do, what words could possibly express the gratitude, the longing, and the love that has grown in his heart? This heartwarming tale of kindness, gratitude, and the power of second chances will remind you that even the smallest acts can change a life forever. A story of resilience, kindness, and the magic of Christmas, this tale reminds us that even in the coldest moments, the smallest gestures can light the way home.
This is the spin-off series of my two books. The female is from Never Say Never, and the male is from His Shareek-e-Hayat. All the existing readers know them as they have already read the books, so if you are a new reader, then I will suggest you read both books and then read this one because the character development of all the characters in this story is already done in both books, and I am not going to write it again. The story of these two characters is going to start exactly where I left off in both present books. Then it might be hard for you to connect the dots, and the story might feel a little rushed to you. So better read both books, then come and read this one❤️
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.
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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