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Kabir Gill, the COO of a powerful London-based multinational, had turned his back on a life built on ancestral land and family pride, not because he wanted to, but because he had to. Distance was his refuge. This city, this country, this skyline of steel and glass, all of it helped him forget the one memory that still haunted the soil he once called home. So he buried himself beneath meetings, boardrooms, numbers… and silence. And then there was Meher Kaur Sandhu, sunshine wrapped in simplicity. A girl whose only dream was to fly high enough to rescue her family from the weight of their debts. To study. To work. To earn. To give her father back his dignity. Two different skies. One storm-written destiny. He considers Meher responsible for one unfinished page of his past, but the poor girl is completely unaware of this burden. She knew his past. She knew the damage. She knew the shadows he carried and still, fate tied them together in a marriage neither of them had chosen, yet both of them slowly began to breathe inside. Until the day everything cracked. That evening, the house was too quiet. Kabir unlocked the door, and for the first time in months, there was no soft laughter echoing down the hallway, no quick footsteps rushing to greet him, no bright voice filling the air with careless chatter. Only… silence. Heavy. Unsettling. Wrong. “Meher?” His voice echoed. He found her in the kitchen, standing absolutely still in front of the burning stove. Her eyes were fixed on the dancing flame, unblinking. Unmoving. As if she had turned to stone. “Meher… what happened?” He stepped closer cautiously, as if afraid she might shatter. She didn’t look at him. “I want a divorce.” Four words. Softly spoken. Brutally final. For a second, his breath stopped. The world tilted. The firelight flickered across her face and across the walls but inside him, everything went dark. This was the woman who had unknowingly stitched life back into his broken heart. The girl who had made him remember how to smile, how to exist again. And now… she wanted to leave. “I won’t stay here,” her voice steady while her heart bled with his just one word that was eating her from inside that she now wanted to go away from here and him because if she won't then she might lose herself too as she had already lost him or maybe he was never hers but just an illusion she was living into. She continued, “I don’t want your money. I don’t want alimony. I don’t even want UK citizenship. I just… want to go home.” She finally looked up straight into his eyes. And Kabir felt it. Something inside him break. But his face… remained calm. Expressionless. Controlled. Only his eyes betrayed the storm rising within. “You want a divorce,” he repeated quietly as if tasting the words. As if each syllable cut into him. “Yes.” Her fingers trembled but she didn’t let them show. “Fine,” he said, almost too gently. “Let’s go to the room and discuss the clauses and terms.” And that shattered her already broken heart into countless pieces. He took her hand. She instantly pulled free. “Kabir, I said I don’t want anything from you. Please. Just… don’t make this harder.” He turned back to her, slow, unreadable and before she could step away, the ground seemed to vanish from beneath her. She gasped. She was suddenly hoisted over his shoulder, the world tilting upside-down. Her hair fell like a curtain around her face. “Kabir! What are you doing? Put me down this instant!” Her voice shook with anger, confusion, fear… and something else she couldn’t name. He didn’t say a word. And then…. that sharp jolt of spank. Her voice vanished. Her body stilled, stunned. His voice came low. Controlled. Unyielding. “You want a divorce, right? Then we’ll discuss it properly.” A pause. “On the bed.” The words weren’t playful. They weren’t teasing. They were heavy like a promise… or a threat he didn’t yet understand himself. He carried her down the hallway, his grip firm but never cruel, every step echoing the battle inside his chest. Meher squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the tears burning behind them. He set her down on the silk sheets, hands lingering on her hips before releasing. Rising slowly, eyes locked on hers, he undid his shirt buttons with deliberate laziness, revealing taut muscle and warm skin. His jaw ticked with restraint. Meher’s breath hitched, lips parting on a soft gasp, cheeks flushing as she bit her lower lip, eyes wide in confusion and desire that she was trying to bury but his perfect toned chest peeking through the open buttons are not helping her to bury it again. Kabir leaned in, his heat brushing her skin, breath teasing her neck. “So… you want a divorce,” he murmured, smirking faintly. “Perfect. Let’s discuss it properly.” Another button slipped free. “Face-to-face.” He hovered close, chest grazing hers with every breath, scent enveloping her. Meher whimpered softly, “Kabir!” back arching toward him, fingers clutching the sheets. His voice dropped, rough with promise: “And… skin-to-skin.” ||A/N: This book will become paid after a certain number of chapters.||
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.
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?
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❤️
"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
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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