The Unwanted Wife: The One Not Loved or maybe the one choosing to stay in a dead relationship.
The Unwanted Wife
Priya
It couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t.
My fingers clenched around the steering wheel, knuckles turning white as I grabbed my phone with my free hand, eyes flickering between the road and the screen. Shantanu’s message stared back at me, unwavering in its cruel certainty.
I swallowed hard, my heart slamming against my ribs. No. This had to be a mistake. A misunderstanding. Something.
The rumors had always lingered, whispered behind my back, weaving in and out of my life like an unwanted guest. But they had never been this concrete. Never this undeniable. Kairav had told me he had work. That he wouldn’t be available. And I had believed him. Because why wouldn’t I?
Because Kairav wouldn’t do this. Couldn’t do this.
Our marriage might have been a mere formality, an obligation he fulfilled for his father Our marriage had been nothing more than a formality, a carefully orchestrated obligation he had accepted out of duty to his father. But there was one thing I had always believed—one thing I had clung to.
Kairav Raichand never broke his word.
“I won’t ever divorce you. My dad wanted us to stay married, and I will honor his last wish.”
A promise carved in stone. Unshakable. Unbreakable.
And yet, here I was. If we were to stay married, didn’t it automatically guarantee fidelity? Was that asking a lot? I slammed my hand against the steering wheel, frustration oozing out of me.
A car whooshed past me, way too close, its speed sending a gust of wind that rattled my nerves. My hands jerked the wheel slightly, my pulse skidding off rhythm as I exhaled sharply. Focus, Priya. Drive properly.
I moved the car to the left and stayed on that line, driving slowly.
I had been on the road for two hours, with one more to go. Typically, I never drove. I had a personal driver who was also my security guard—someone always hovering nearby, always keeping watch. Kairav was too strict about security. He had one guard on the kids as well and Harman managed them all.
Today, I had left him behind. I needed to do this on my own.
The villa was far. Isolated. And maybe—God, please—this drive would be for nothing. Maybe I would get there and find emptiness, silence, proof that this was all just another round of pointless gossip. I wanted that. I needed that.
My back ached, my fingers stiff from gripping the wheel too hard, but I couldn’t stop. Not now. Not when I was this close. I could have taken the driver, but that would have meant someone knowing. And Kairav’s employees were loyal—loyal to him.
Not to me. Never to me.
Other than Shantanu, I had no one in my corner.
With Dad gone, I had been utterly alone. Until I met Shantanu again at an office party. The familiarity had been instant. A tether to my past, to a version of myself I barely remembered anymore. He had been a breath of fresh air in a life suffocating with silence, and I had latched on without a second thought. We met rarely but we talked and he always uplifted my mood. He was mature and dependable.
It was a miracle Kairav had even let him stay at Raichand Groups. He had despised Shantanu from the very beginning—an old feud from their college days, tangled in history I never quite understood. Shantanu had been his senior by four years, but the tension between them ran deeper than just hierarchy.
And yet, despite Kairav’s barely concealed hatred, he hadn’t fired him. Maybe out of some twisted power play or that his dad had hired him. Or maybe just to remind me that he could. That he was the Boss and Shantanu was an employee.
Only God knew what went in my husband’s head because humans had failed there. My husband was a mystery, a real one, a maze no one could solve. But Shantanu had been my one solace. The only constant in my long marriage that had been more prison than partnership.
I blinked rapidly as my vision blurred, hot tears stinging my eyes. Damn it. I wasn’t going to cry. Not now.
I had loved Kairav once. Or maybe I had just loved the idea of him. The man I had built up in my head, the perfection I had seen in him from a distance—so controlled, so self-assured, so untouchable. He had fascinated me. Captivated me. The way he carried himself, the way he took on life with unwavering determination. If you have a guy like him on your side, you fear nothing then.
But then we got married. And everything changed.
He shut down. Walls went up. The mysterious, driven man I had adored turned cold, distant. He loathed this marriage, and eventually, I realized something I hadn’t wanted to admit—
He loathed me too. He couldn’t stand to even look at me these days. We slept in separate bedrooms, something that broke me so much every day. I had spent years chasing after a shadow.
Back in college, Kairav had been aloof, untouchable—always with Sameer and Harman, locked in their own world like an impenetrable fortress. They never mingled, never let anyone in. It wasn’t just that they didn’t have female friends; they didn’t need them. They were satisfied among themselves, their bond tighter than blood, stronger than any outside connection.
And yet, I had watched him. From a distance. Obsessed over him. Dreamed of a life where he would look at me the way I looked at him. I imagined conversations that never happened, a love story that existed only in my mind.
But what did I get in return?
Nothing.
Not a glance, not a smile, not even a moment of curiosity. He wanted nothing to do with me.
The whispers had been there even then. Stories about their late-night escapades, about the underground clubs they disappeared into. Places where boundaries blurred, where pleasure had no rules. Their world was exclusive, impenetrable, and those who tried to step too close were met with Harman’s scowl—a warning to stay away.
Shantanu had been different. He was my senior too, but he wasn’t part of them. We bonded over our love for books, spending hours in the library while he told me things I didn’t want to hear—things I should have ignored. But I never did. I hung onto every word, hungry for scraps of information about Kairav.
I sighed, gripping the wheel tighter.
Shantanu had seen them once. Kairav. Sameer. Harman. Not at a bar. Not at some wild college party. But at a sex club.
I hadn’t even known those existed in India.
And yet, they did.
I should have been disgusted. I should have walked away. But I had convinced myself it didn’t matter. That was the past. That had nothing to do with our future.
I had actually assumed he would be sexually active, that he would need me in ways that would eventually bind us together. But it had been the opposite.
Kairav didn’t want me.
He didn’t want anyone.
And yet, when he agreed to marry me, I latched onto that moment like a lifeline.
It didn’t matter that he had been clear from the start. That he had warned me.
“I’ll take care of you financially. I’ll always be there. But marriage? That’s not for me. I have different needs.”
Different needs!
I didn’t know what those different needs were. I never asked. Maybe deep down, I didn’t want to know. Some truths were better left undiscovered, buried beneath the fragile illusion of normalcy.
And his reluctance? It hadn’t mattered to me. I had convinced myself that time and patience would soften him, that love—my love—could build a bridge between us, brick by careful brick. If I stayed long enough, loved hard enough, he would see me. He would choose me.
But I had been a fool.
This marriage wasn’t built on love; it had been forced into existence. I had manipulated it into reality using the one thing Kairav Raichand could never refuse—his father’s dying wish.
And so, out of obligation, he had given me his name.
Later, when I reminded him of his father’s words again, when I pushed and pleaded for a family, he had given me two children. And once that duty was fulfilled, he had shut me out completely.
No warmth. No intimacy. Not even the pretense of companionship. I had become nothing more than a placeholder, the mother of his children, the woman he had been forced to marry.
But at least he loved our children. That had been my only solace in this cold, crumbling reality.
Yet, the whispers had never stopped.
For years, I had refused to listen. Dismissed them as petty gossip, as jealousy-fueled speculation. Kairav may not have loved me, but at least he was loyal. That had been enough. It had to be enough.
But this? A villa. A vacation. A mistress.
That was too much for me to ignore.
So here I was, gripping the steering wheel like it was the only thing tethering me to reality, chasing the remnants of a marriage that had never truly belonged to me.
Kairav had never hurt me, never raised a hand, never even raised his voice. But his anger—controlled, quiet, simmering just beneath the surface—terrified me in ways I couldn’t explain.
I had never truly stood up to him before.
When he told me to be a stay-at-home mother, I had agreed without question. When the rumors started, I had pushed my way into his company, clinging to the desperate hope that maybe it meant something. That maybe, for the first time, he was letting me in.
For a while, the whispers had faded. The storm had calmed.
But like a tide that never really receded, it had returned. And now, here I was, chasing shadows down an unfamiliar road, my breath tight in my lungs, my thoughts spiraling into places I didn’t want them to go.
This was it. A confrontation ten years in the making.
For a decade, I had swallowed my doubts, buried my suspicions, and turned my back on the whispers. I had chosen silence, clung to denial, convinced myself that even if there was no love left, there was still loyalty. But now? Now I was staring down the moment I had spent years avoiding.
If I was wrong, I would walk away with nothing but unnecessary heartache. But if I was right… I wasn’t sure what terrified me more.
I pulled the car to a stop, my heart hammering against my ribs as I stepped out. The villa loomed ahead, bathed in the dim glow of the outdoor lanterns. It was quiet—too quiet. The kind of quiet that sent a warning shiver down my spine.
As I passed through the iron gates, I faltered. A car sat in the driveway. Not Kairav’s, but a car. Someone was inside.
I inhaled sharply, my pulse roaring in my ears. I had no key, no invitation. Just rage. Just desperation. The front door was locked, but the window—it was open.
I climbed onto the railing, my fingers gripping the edge of the frame. My dupatta snagged on something sharp, yanking me back. Irritation flared, but I bit my lip, yanked it free, and pulled myself up. One last breath. One last moment of hesitation. Then I swung my leg over and jumped inside.
The house was silent, except for the muffled rustling of movement beyond the curved entryway. I stepped further inside, my sandals pressing into the cool marble, my stomach twisting with a sick mix of dread and fury.
Then I saw them.
My husband. And her.
The living room was elegant, designed with understated luxury—deep wooden furniture, silk curtains, a massive chandelier casting soft light over the polished floors. And there, standing in the middle of it all, was Kairav.
Buttoning his shirt.
And she—wrapped in nothing but a bathrobe, eyes glistening with tears—was handing him his clothes.
I barely registered the sharp breath that left my lungs. My fingers curled into fists. They had been fighting. I could see it in the way he wasn’t looking at her, the way she was watching him with an expression that clung to something broken.
But what struck me most wasn’t the argument. It wasn’t even the betrayal.
It was the fact that he was leaving.
If I had been just a little late, I might have never found him here. I might have never caught him.
The woman—his mistress—crashed onto the floor, sobbing. My eyes raked over her, absorbing everything in a single, seething glance. She wasn’t like me. She was raw, wild in a way I had never been. While I had been raised to be elegant, polished, composed, she was the exact opposite. Messy. Chaotic. And yet—there was something deliberate about her presence here.
Then I noticed it. The long, lean lines of her body. The way her towel barely covered her. The way she fit the mold of Kairav’s supposed different needs.
Something inside me snapped.
She tried to stand, but I got to her first. My hand sliced through the air, landing a sharp slap across her cheek. Her head snapped to the side, a gasp ripping from her lips as she stumbled. But I wasn’t done.
Lava burned through my veins. I kicked her in the stomach, sending her sprawling back onto the floor. She scrambled to crawl away, but I was already on her, fists flying, rage consuming me.
“You homewrecker,” I snarled, my voice unrecognizable, wild. Another slap. Another strike. “You bitch. How dare you destroy my home?”
She yelped, shielding herself, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop.
“Girls like you only know how to break homes,” I spat, my hands shaking as I grabbed her by the hair and shoved her back. “You tramp. You slut. Do you even know he has a fourteen-year-old son? A twelve-year-old daughter? Did you think about them when you spread your legs for him?”
“Priya, stop it. Now.”
Kairav’s voice cut through the air, sharp and commanding, but it barely registered. I was past listening, past reason. Fury pounded through me, red-hot and relentless. My fists flew again, my nails digging into soft flesh, my breath ragged as I struck her over and over.
Then, suddenly, his hands were on me—grabbing, pulling, tearing me away. My body fought against him, the rage still thrumming, still demanding more.
“Don’t you dare tell me to stop!” I snarled, twisting in his grip. My breath came in shallow, burning gasps, my vision blurred with anger and something dangerously close to heartbreak.
His fingers tightened around my wrist—firm, unyielding. He exhaled sharply, his expression shifting from fury to something eerily calm, and I knew that was worse. Kairav didn’t yell when he was truly angry. He didn’t lose control.
He controlled. He commanded.
“Let’s go home,” he said, his voice a quiet, clipped demand. Not a request. Not a plea.
Just finality.
He didn’t let go of me until we were past the main gate. Then, as if my very touch repulsed him, he shoved me away. Hard. My feet stumbled, but I caught myself. I looked up, expecting guilt, maybe even remorse.
Instead, I got rage.
“What the fuck was that?” His voice was low, dark with something lethal beneath it.
My mouth opened, too stunned to speak. He was blaming me? He was standing here, after I had caught him with his mistress, and he had the audacity to question me?
“You don’t get to act like this,” he bit out, his jaw clenched so tight it could crack. “Don’t you fucking think for a second that we’re married. Not in the real sense. What you did back there? You had no right.”
I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “I have rights. I do. And you know who I am.”
His eyes narrowed, not expecting me to fight back.
I lifted my chin, my voice cold, steady. “Priya Kairav Raichand. That’s who I am. Mrs. Kairav Raichand.”
He exhaled sharply, shaking his head, rubbing a hand over his face like he was exhausted by my mere existence. “I need to go back. I need to call a doctor.”
I froze. Then, quietly, deliberately, I said, “If you go, I will kill myself.”
His head snapped toward me, eyes flashing with something unreadable. “What?”
“You heard me,” I whispered. “If you want to test me, then go.”
For a long moment, he just stared at me. Rage twisted his face, his body rigid with barely contained fury. But I didn’t care. Let him hate me. Let him burn.
Then, without another word, he grabbed my wrist and dragged me toward my car. His fingers dug into my skin as he yanked the keys from my grasp, unlocked the door, and shoved me inside the passenger seat. He stalked around, slid into the driver’s side, and slammed the door shut.
The engine roared to life, tires screeching as he pulled away.
Minutes later, we were at the helipad.
The moment the shock wore off, the tears came. Silent at first, then uncontrollable. But Kairav didn’t care. Of course, he didn’t. He didn’t even look at me.
I climbed into the chopper, settling into the seat beside him. The pilot took a few minutes to complete his checks before the helicopter lifted into the sky. The hum of the blades filled my ears, but the real noise was inside me.
The thoughts. The questions.
Why wasn’t he ashamed? Why wasn’t he sorry?
How could he sit there, unmoved, uncaring, after being caught?
The chopper landed, and I stepped out, dragging myself toward his car because mine was still at the other helipad. The ride home was silent, tense. By the time we reached the house, nearly two hours had passed.
The moment we stepped inside, he turned sharply, locking the door with a resounding click before shoving me back. My spine hit the wall, the cold bite of it barely registering over the burning fury in his eyes.
“Don’t think for one second we are anything but a formality, Priya.” His voice was low, clipped, lethal. “I haven’t given you any fucking hope. We are nothing. We will be nothing. Other than my name, you get nothing.”
I sucked in a breath, the weight of his words crashing over me like a tidal wave. But it wasn’t pain that settled in my chest—it was something darker. Something more venomous.
I had seen Kairav angry before. I had seen his cold indifference, his sharp words, his calculated cruelty. But this? This rage? This visceral reaction? I hadn’t known he was capable of it.
And the worst part? It wasn’t for me.
It was for her.
That tramp. That mistress. The one sprawled on the floor, crying over his departure. She had gotten this reaction from him. She had cracked through his control, clawed past that impenetrable wall he always kept up.
Not me. Never me.
“You hit her like a crazy woman,” he said, his tone coated in disgust. “Like some rogue, uncontrolled lunatic.”
A bitter laugh bubbled up in my throat. “Don’t you dare.”
“I dare, Priya.” His eyes darkened, and for the first time, there was something dangerously unhinged about them. “If you weren’t the mother of my children, I would have shown you just how much I dare.”
My breath hitched, my fingers curling into fists. I had always known there was no love between us, but this… this was something else. This was hatred.
He exhaled sharply, stepping back like even standing near me repulsed him. “You want to kill yourself? Go ahead.” His voice was flat, emotionless, a sharp contrast to the fury that had consumed him moments ago. “By the time I return, do it.”
Then he turned and walked away, leaving me standing there—alone, humiliated, drowning in a silence that felt suffocating.
The weight of it all crushed me, and I sank to the floor. The fight left my body in a slow, agonizing collapse, but the rage? That rage still burned. My vision blurred with tears, my breath hitching in uneven sobs, but through it all, one thought remained.
I had taken my revenge. I had made her bleed.
And no, I wasn’t going to kill myself. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of an easy escape.
Kairav Raichand was mine.
And he always would be.
No one else could have him. No one else could claim him.
Because no matter what he said—no matter what he did—only I would be his legal wife.
Forever.
Kairav
It felt like I couldn’t reach her fast enough. My foot tapped against the floor of the chopper, impatience curling tight in my chest as it finally lifted off the ground. The delay had been unbearable. Refueling had taken longer than I could afford to waste, every passing second stretching painfully thin.
I had left Priya at home along with Harman, my best friend and my head of security. He was keeping an eye on her after her good-for-nothing threats.
But now, as the city blurred beneath us, my thoughts weren’t on the woman who was getting on my nerves. They weren’t on Priya or the mess she had created.
They were on her.
On Akansha.
Back in the villa, she had been on the floor when I left. After Priya had beaten her. Crumpled. Silent. My A. My Akansha. The only person who had ever truly belonged to me was hurting badly, yet I had to leave her. Taking Priya away had felt like the right thing to do in the moment. She had gone crazy, acted out of control, hitting Akansha like she wasn’t human. B
ut then she had played her trump card—threatening to take her own life.
Did I believe her? Not really. Priya had always been dramatic, even manipulative, using whatever leverage she could to keep her grip on me. But I couldn’t take the chance. Not because of her, but because of Uncle Mahesh. Because of the debt I still owed him. Because of our children—our children who didn’t deserve to be caught in the wreckage of this disaster.
Still, not everyone had the strength to give themselves up the way Akansha had.
The way she had melted into me, seamlessly, like we were carved from the same breath, the same heartbeat. Even in the last few years, when my focus had shifted, when I had let my ambition take precedence, she had been there. Steady. Constant. Even sometimes bitter, she was there. For me. Always.
Before, I had never cared much for the business side of things. I let Sameer handle most of it, content with the way things were. I only participated in the mergers and acquisitions for which I trained Akansha. But then life settled with her, and something in me woke up. A hunger. A drive. She was life, something I had been missing all along.
And when Priya decided to step into the business, I had to ask Akansha to resign. It was brutal, everything about it, the entire transaction, her last day, but I had to do it. At the time, it had seemed like the only solution. Priya wanted to join in because she was bored at home and the kids had grown up, but I knew there was foul play. Yet if keeping the peace or my relationship with Akansha without problems meant letting go of her from my workplace, then so be it.
Then, something strange happened. I had no more distractions in the office and too much pent-up energy that I used with Akansha before, shoving her on the table a few times a day, enjoying stolen moments with her. It was blissful, working with her, enjoying the little
All I had was time so I threw myself into work, into expansion, into making Raichand Groups an empire. It was already an empire, but I expanded to more countries. The fire my father talked about, I felt it inside me. He ignored me my entire childhood because of work, but when I got into it, I realized the addiction there. Time passed, and before I knew it, the days had turned into years. Akansha was easy, she never needed much to go, and I… I used her good girl personality too much. She fought a few times, but she always let go in the end, and… and I got her where I wanted.
The kids grew, responsibilities piled up, and the moments I could steal with Akansha reduced. Still, we were working it out, I was just pissed at her today because she was bringing Priya too much. I was actually fighting today, which we rarely did. Rarely. It only started after she left the Raichand Groups, when she was forced to resign by me, she did something that forever changed us.
The rope that had bound us together—she cut it in one clean, merciless swipe.
I still remember the day she came into my office on her last day of working. The way she stood there, her back straight, a small box of her belongings clutched tightly in her hands.
She didn’t cry. She didn’t plead.
She simply looked at me, eyes steady, voice calm.
And in that moment, I knew. She had accepted it like everything else I put through her.
The past:
“I go, but something goes with me.”
Her voice was quiet, steady. But I knew what she meant. I just knew.
“Akansha…” I started, but she shook her head, silencing me before I could even try.
“Kai, what we have… it’s too intimate,” she whispered. “And if I walk away from this place—the place that gave me life, even if it was just half a life—I can’t keep doing this. If you give me your permission, sir, I’d like to remove the lock. The bond that tied us together, I want to be free from it. We can still be together, but not as that. Just… a normal couple.”
I knew what she was asking.
She wanted me to remove her collar.
She wanted out.
I stared at her, willing myself to say no. To refuse. Being her dominant gave me purpose, gave me control, made me feel secure. It was the one constant in a life filled with obligations, responsibilities, and carefully played compromises. It was the one thing I had been searching for my entire life.
And yet, as I looked into her eyes, I could see it—she wanted me to fight for it. For her.
She had grown stronger, bolder. And I was proud of her. Proud of my sub. We had been through too much, more than Priya and I could ever see in seven lifetimes. Akansha had been with me through everything, through the darkest nights, through moments I thought I wouldn’t survive.
But I had failed her.
Priya had won. Again.
She had played her cards well, twisting my obligations, using her father—our father—to tighten the noose around my neck. It had to be Shantanu. He must have planted something in her head, made her push harder, demand more. And no matter how much I tried to hide what Akansha and I shared, no matter how careful we were, I couldn’t change human nature.
Right and wrong had been distinguished centuries ago.
A wife was right.
A mistress was wrong.
The lines were clear. Unforgiving.
I took a deep breath, my fingers curling into fists before I forced them to relax. Then, I nodded.
“Okay,” I said. “If that’s what you want.”
Her hands trembled, and her eyes misted as she stepped closer, turning around, offering me the nape of her neck. My heart twisted painfully as I reached into my pocket, pulling out the small, familiar key.
I had never parted with it. Not once.
It had always stayed with me, grounding me, reminding me of who I was.
I slid the key into the lock, feeling the cold metal press against my fingers as I turned it. The soft click of it unlocking echoed louder in my head than it should have.
And just like that, it was over. Our sacred bond was over.
I had locked it around her neck when she had smiled too much at someone else, when I had needed to remind her—to remind myself—that she belonged to me. She had come home glowing, excited, rambling about the event, and I had watched her, mesmerized, knowing I would do anything to keep her like that—happy, mine. The only thing was… that happiness had to come from me and no one else.
Her department had thrown a part of her, for her hard work, and I didn’t like that she enjoyed too much with them. So I put the collar on her and told her to touch it whenever she smiled at someone else other than me. I had never been possessive before in my life, but with her I was a maniac. Too possessive. Too obsessive.
That night changed us. She had admired her collar, running her fingers over the choker, then paused when she saw the lock.
When she had asked me what it meant, I had told her.
Bondage.
She had blushed.
The memory flickered like a dying flame, fading as she reached for the necklace now, her fingers brushing against it one last time before she stepped away.
“The necklace is yours,” I murmured.
“No.” She shook her head, handing it to me, her lips curling into something too bittersweet to be a smile. “It’s too much temptation. I can’t have that now, can I? Temptation.”
She turned, her shoulders straight, her steps slow but certain as she walked toward the door.
“Bye, sir.” She whispered when she was by the door.
“Not sir, A,” I said, my voice rougher than I intended. “You don’t get to call me that anymore.”
She hesitated. Just for a second.
Then she looked back.
“Kai.”
And then she was gone.
The End of the Excerpt of The Unwanted Wife
Stay tuned for more updates. The book will be released soon on Amazon Kindle.
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Author Payal Dedhia independently publishes books on Amazon Kindle. You can check out her collection by clicking here.
If you like Dark Romance Fiction, do read my Sctintilla Series. Click here to read.
Aayansh Ahluwalia isn’t just a billionaire business tycoon—he’s the kind of man who haunts people’s nightmares. The world may recognize Scintilla Corporations as a legitimate empire, but Aayansh isn’t confined to the light. In the shadows, he commands an empire of fear, power, and blood. He rules over the underdogs, the darkness that terrifies everyone else.
Ruthless and untouchable, they call him a devil for a reason—he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t blink when it comes to taking lives.
His existence is fearless. His power, unmatched. Yet beneath the wealth and carnage lies a void—a darkness so complete it consumes him. There’s no light, no hope. Just emptiness stretching endlessly, leaving him hollow.
Then, one night, everything changed.
He saw her—a woman so radiant, so full of life, she made his chaos stand still. She erupted into his world like a dream, settling in his heart and claiming it as her own.
Tisha Chopra.
Aayansh hadn’t been searching for her, hadn’t asked for her. But the moment he saw her, he knew—she would be his.
She didn’t belong in his world, and that only made him want her more. Her laughter, her light—it wasn’t meant to survive the darkness he thrived in, yet it pulled him in, unrelenting. Like a predator to prey, he followed. He didn’t want her to save him. No. He wanted to ruin her, piece by piece, until she belonged to him completely. He would drag her down, crown her queen in his Devil’s Paradise, and make her sit beside him on the devil’s throne while he ruled the world.What unfolds is a story steeped in obsession, control, and desire—a dangerous game where love is a battlefield, and submission comes at the cost of a soul.
Scintilla isn’t just the name of Aayansh’s empire; it’s the pulse of this saga—a place where power thrives and morality dies.
The series is divided into four phases:
The Chase – Where the predator finds his prey. Click here to read.
- The Beginning – A collision of worlds. A spark ignited.
- Unveiling Paradise – Her light tempts the darkness.
- The Masked Guy – Secrets wear masks. So do devils.
- Unleashing the Demons – Once awakened, there’s no turning back.
- The Winner – Victory tastes sweeter when claimed by force.
The Possession – Where obsession takes root. Click here to read.
- New Beginning – The chase ends. The real game begins.
- The Rules – Boundaries are set, only to be broken.
- Gilded Cage – Possession doesn’t feel like freedom.
- Unleashed Fury – When control falters, chaos reigns.
- Ensnared Hearts – Hearts trapped, souls scarred.
The Submission – Where surrender is demanded, not given. Click here to read.
- Her Resistance – Light fights back. Darkness pushes harder.
- Her Confession – Truths whispered in the dark.
- The Good Times – A fleeting calm before the storm.
- The Devil Struck – The predator strikes. The angel shatters.
- Angel’s Judgement – When love turns to reckoning.
The Reward – Where love and darkness collide, leaving nothing unscarred. Click here to read.
- The Storm – Chaos erupts, tearing apart the fragile ties of love and power.
- The Punishment – Sins are judged, debts are paid, and vengeance claims its due.
The Arranged Marriage series is a collection of 5 books.
Book 1 – The First Meet (Read now)
Book 2: The Life Together (Read now)
Book 3 – The Surprises in Store (Read now)
Book 4 – The Everchanging Times (Read now)
Book 5: The Story of Us (Coming Soon)
The Unscripted Love Series is a collection of 10 books
Book 1 – Arjun’s Jenny (click to read)
Book 2 – Priti’s Rendezvous with Somesh (click to read)
Book 3 – Rana’s Vivacious Girlfriend (click to read)
Book 4 – Claire’s Dashing Raj (click to read)
Book 5 – My Rebirth (click to read)
Book 6 – My Family (click to read)
Book 7 – My Sister’s Wedding (click to read)
Book 8 – My Secret Love (click to read)
Book 9 – My Silent Romeo (click to read)
Book 10 – The Brunch (click to read)
