The moon trailed after the shadow of the girl, the cold air of the night as sharp as the edge of a knife, cutting through her cheeks as she hasted her steps over the damp dark pavement.
The air smelled of heated bricks and bitumen, showered by a downpour that had stopped half an hour ago.
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Mahira had always admired her professor, a quiet crush she carried in her heartβnever imagining that destiny would draw them closer than she could ever dare to dream. But the cost of that closeness? It was everything she had. One night, under the haze of spiked drinks and reckless passion, Mahira found herself bound to a truth she could not escape... she was carrying Ibzan's child. The reality is merciless. For her family, reputation is everything. To preserve their honor, Mahira is forced into marriage with the very man who spent the night with her - her professor. But no one knows the hidden truth. Ibzan's heart belongs to someone else. He respects Mahira, even cherishes her, yet his love remains locked away, leaving her a stranger in the marriage that fate has forced upon them. Mahira learns to live with the silence of a love she may never have, while Ibzan struggles under the weight of duty, torn between what is right and what he truly desires. But is love really absent? Or is destiny quietly weaving their hearts together, despite everythingβfamily, shame, and the walls they've built between them?
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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