> “To be owned by one devil…
And dream of another —
Hey dear readers. Please support me. I really need your support and love to follow my writing further. I will work like motivation for me. Also to be honest. I want to earn little for my self, with my work. So, can i can be self independent, if not much then little will be fine. 😊 Thank you..
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> "Remove your dupatta." Meher blinked. "S-sir?" Veer leaned back in his chair, eyes dark as the monsoon sky. "You're here to design the most intimate space of my house, Miss Kapoor. I need to see how you handle discomfort." Her breath hitched. Her hands trembled as she loosened the end of her dupatta. His gaze never wavered - it devoured. She expected shame. But what she felt... was a flame. He stood up, walked to her, and whispered, "You interest me. That's dangerous for both of us." And in that moment, Meher knew-her life had just changed.
> Widows are meant to mourn. But I wanted to be ruined. He came the day after the funeral. Black sherwani. Gold cufflinks. Eyes so unreadable, I forgot how to breathe. He didn't offer condolences. He didn't speak my name. He only leaned down, placed a box of sindoor on the table... And whispered: > "Your husband owed me everything. Now, I'll take what's mine. You."
> "Remove your dupatta." Meher blinked. "S-sir?" Veer leaned back in his chair, eyes dark as the monsoon sky. "You're here to design the most intimate space of my house, Miss Kapoor. I need to see how you handle discomfort." Her breath hitched. Her hands trembled as she loosened the end of her dupatta. His gaze never wavered - it devoured. She expected shame. But what she felt... was a flame. He stood up, walked to her, and whispered, "You interest me. That's dangerous for both of us." And in that moment, Meher knew-her life had just changed.
> Widows are meant to mourn. But I wanted to be ruined. He came the day after the funeral. Black sherwani. Gold cufflinks. Eyes so unreadable, I forgot how to breathe. He didn't offer condolences. He didn't speak my name. He only leaned down, placed a box of sindoor on the table... And whispered: > "Your husband owed me everything. Now, I'll take what's mine. You."
18+ CONTENT WARNING This story contains mature and disturbing themes, including sexual content, forced sexual situations, marital abuse, coercive control, emotional abuse, physical violence, trauma, and dark psychological themes. Some scenes may be uncomfortable or triggering. This is a fictional story and is intended for adult readers only. Reader discretion is strongly advised. A CAGE CALLED MARRIAGE She was nineteen when they handed her over to a man she never chose. Riya wanted fashion, freedom, and a life of her own. Instead, she got Abeer Raichand—a twenty-four-year-old billionaire who doesn't believe his wife has the right to refuse him. Behind the walls of his mansion, there are no choices. No escape. No no. Only a marriage built on control, silence, and a darkness Riya was never prepared for. For a year, she lets him break every part of her she once fought to protect. Until one night, she looks into the mirror and doesn't recognize the girl staring back. And something inside her finally snaps. If being his wife means losing herself, then maybe it's time he learns what happens when his obedient little wife stops obeying.
> Widows are meant to mourn. But I wanted to be ruined. He came the day after the funeral. Black sherwani. Gold cufflinks. Eyes so unreadable, I forgot how to breathe. He didn't offer condolences. He didn't speak my name. He only leaned down, placed a box of sindoor on the table... And whispered: > "Your husband owed me everything. Now, I'll take what's mine. You."
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