βYou know you're looking beautiful.β
Mahira looked at Feroz who entered the room with a blank look on his face.
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Inaya never thought that one moment of rage would bind her to a marriage she never chose. The only daughter of a broken man, she carries a responsibility she never abandoned. Once kind, her father is now a man lost to addiction and ruinβsomeone the world has already given up on. But Inaya hasnβt. Until one night, his recklessness traps him in a debt he cannot repay. And the men who come to collect itβ¦ donβt believe in mercy. Unable to watch her father being torn apart, Inaya steps in, and in a moment of defiance, she slaps Aarvansh Rathore. A man known not just for his powerβ¦ but for the reputation he never lets falter. What should have ended there turns into a storm when the news spreads like wildfireβ β...an unknown girl slaps Aarvansh Rathore.β Reputation trembles, media hunts, and the Rathores choose the only solution that silences the worldβ¦ Marriage. A union neither of them wants. A bond neither of them chose. But storms donβt knock before they arrive, do they? They leave destruction behind, and secrets in their wake. Now tied together by force, pride, and unspoken truths, two strangers must learn to exist within the same walls. But beneath the silence, there are bruised hearts, buried fears, and a past that refuses to stay hidden. And what begins as a war of control, may become something far more deeper than either of them expected.
Everybody knows Zayen Ashcroft as the charmerβdesired, admired, and quietly feared. He is everything one could want, yet no one dares cross his path. The reason has never been spoken aloud. Then Soraya enters his life. She sees only a gentleman at first-controlled, composed, almost kind. Unaware of the cruelty beneath the calm, she steps closer than anyone ever has. Where Zayen believed no woman could reach him, she does so without trying. But when Soraya begins to see the truth, she wants to leave. And Zayen is not a man who knows how to lose. What Soraya never understood was the kind of love he was capable of-one that does not loosen its grip, one that breathes necessity instead of choice. Some needs do not ask permission. And some men do not let go.
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