The car was a blur of speed on the road, a silver projectile cutting through the traffic with a terrifying urgency. Aniruddh's hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. The note, a crumpled piece of paper now in his pocket, felt like a burning coal against his skin. The image of the man's lecherous eyes on her, and the words of the note "Bohot sundar hai tumhari biwi... uski woh jhalak aaj bhi yaad hai mujhe" burned in his mind, fueling a rage so cold and absolute it stole his breath.
The car screeched to a halt in front of the haveli. He ran inside, his shoes making a frantic sound on the marble floors. He found her in the main hall, her back to him as she danced with the other women. The sight of her, so full of life, so beautiful, with the colors on her cheeks and the gungroo on her ankles jingling, sent a wave of possessive fury through him.
Writing has never been just a hobby for me—it’s how I breathe. Every drop of ink in these stories carries a piece of my soul, from the cold shadows of revenge to the fire of a love that refuses to die. My goal is simple but huge: I want these characters to travel across borders and live in the hearts of readers everywhere. I want to build a world where our shared emotions—the pain, the blood, and the obsession—connect us all. When you support my work, you aren't just "buying a chapter." You are fueling a dream. You are helping an independent creator stay dedicated to the craft. Every follow, every share, and every small contribution helps me keep the lights on and the stories flowing. By supporting my work, you aren't just buying a chapter; you are helping a student turn a lifelong passion into a way to support my studies and my future. Every bit of support helps me keep this world alive. Thank you for walking this dark, beautiful path with me.
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