6 Chapters
Shreya
Author
Pinned
His Unhealed Bride
"Dev." She said his name the moment he entered the room, just as he was heading straight to the washroom without looking at her. He stopped in the middle and looked at her. She took a deep breath and said, "I…I am ready." She tried to sound firm. But failed drastically at it, and she knew it. He looked at her for a few seconds. He already knew what she meant but still asked, "For what?" She bit her lip. Why is he doing this now? But the words wouldn't leave her. He said simply, "It's late. So jao." And took a step toward the washroom. "Dev, please…" He turned and looked at her. He already knew why she was saying this. He noticed how stiff her body had already gone. She wasn't looking at him. Her lashes were lowered. Fists tightened. He took slow, deliberate steps toward her — and with each one, he noticed her growing more stiffened, more frightened, yet still trying to hide it. Two steps away, she closed her eyes. Too tightly. Her breathing turned slow. He took another step and could literally hear her heartbeat — fast, shallow, loud in the silence between them. He feared if he took one more step she would push him away. So he stood at his place — not moving, not closing the distance — only watching her. She didn't move. Didn't open her eyes. He asked quietly, "Do you still want it?" She gathered her courage and said in a low, almost whispered voice, "Yes…" He raised his hand to cup her face. Just that. Nothing more. But her reaction to just that bare touch made his heart bleed in raw pain. Something tore open inside him. Not cleanly. Not the sharp, merciful kind of pain. The raw kind — the kind that bleeds slow, that settles into the bones and stays there, that does not announce itself but simply exists, heavy and permanent and aching. He looked at her face — eyes still shut, jaw tight, a breath held prisoner in her chest — and understood, with a clarity that left no room for comfort, that this was not a battle of nights or weeks or wrong moments. This was a wound. And it had a depth he was only just beginning to see. #love #trauma #past #depression #marriage #arrangemarriage #caring #loving #protective #family #india #indian #hindi #abuse #dark #ceo #cold #slowburn #healing
Shreya
₹541
A Literate Captive (18+)
Indrajeet Singh Chauhan (31 years) Education: Master of Science (M.Sc.) in Global Politics from the London School of Economics (LSE). Member of Parliament from UP, Son of the ruling CM of UP. Heir to a major regional political dynasty. He was educated enough to know every argument for why a woman was equal & patriarchal enough that it never once applied to the woman in his house. Anushree Tripathi (19 years) Softness is not weakness — she was soft the way water is soft, the way water will take the shape of any vessel it is poured into and still, given enough time, wear through stone.
Shreya
Niyati 2: His Destined Bride
More than a year into marriage, Ranvijay and Niyati have already lived through what most couples face over a lifetime— misunderstandings, emotional distance, avoidance, and unspoken pain. Their relationship was never short of love—but timing, responsibility, and silence changed everything. They didn’t struggle to fall in love. They struggled to stay in love after marriage. This story is about marriage after love, parenthood before healing, and choosing each other when staying becomes harder than leaving. Yet, despite everything, they showed courage by choosing each other. And now—just when they begin finding their way back to each other—life had already changed. Lets dive into their story to know more...
Shreya
₹2152His Unhealed Bride
"Dev." She said his name the moment he entered the room, just as he was heading straight to the washroom without looking at her. He stopped in the middle and looked at her. She took a deep breath and said, "I…I am ready." She tried to sound firm. But failed drastically at it, and she knew it. He looked at her for a few seconds. He already knew what she meant but still asked, "For what?" She bit her lip. Why is he doing this now? But the words wouldn't leave her. He said simply, "It's late. So jao." And took a step toward the washroom. "Dev, please…" He turned and looked at her. He already knew why she was saying this. He noticed how stiff her body had already gone. She wasn't looking at him. Her lashes were lowered. Fists tightened. He took slow, deliberate steps toward her — and with each one, he noticed her growing more stiffened, more frightened, yet still trying to hide it. Two steps away, she closed her eyes. Too tightly. Her breathing turned slow. He took another step and could literally hear her heartbeat — fast, shallow, loud in the silence between them. He feared if he took one more step she would push him away. So he stood at his place — not moving, not closing the distance — only watching her. She didn't move. Didn't open her eyes. He asked quietly, "Do you still want it?" She gathered her courage and said in a low, almost whispered voice, "Yes…" He raised his hand to cup her face. Just that. Nothing more. But her reaction to just that bare touch made his heart bleed in raw pain. Something tore open inside him. Not cleanly. Not the sharp, merciful kind of pain. The raw kind — the kind that bleeds slow, that settles into the bones and stays there, that does not announce itself but simply exists, heavy and permanent and aching. He looked at her face — eyes still shut, jaw tight, a breath held prisoner in her chest — and understood, with a clarity that left no room for comfort, that this was not a battle of nights or weeks or wrong moments. This was a wound. And it had a depth he was only just beginning to see. #love #trauma #past #depression #marriage #arrangemarriage #caring #loving #protective #family #india #indian #hindi #abuse #dark #ceo #cold #slowburn #healing
Shreya
₹541A Literate Captive (18+)
Indrajeet Singh Chauhan (31 years) Education: Master of Science (M.Sc.) in Global Politics from the London School of Economics (LSE). Member of Parliament from UP, Son of the ruling CM of UP. Heir to a major regional political dynasty. He was educated enough to know every argument for why a woman was equal & patriarchal enough that it never once applied to the woman in his house. Anushree Tripathi (19 years) Softness is not weakness — she was soft the way water is soft, the way water will take the shape of any vessel it is poured into and still, given enough time, wear through stone.
Shreya
His Unhealed Bride
"Dev." She said his name the moment he entered the room, just as he was heading straight to the washroom without looking at her. He stopped in the middle and looked at her. She took a deep breath and said, "I…I am ready." She tried to sound firm. But failed drastically at it, and she knew it. He looked at her for a few seconds. He already knew what she meant but still asked, "For what?" She bit her lip. Why is he doing this now? But the words wouldn't leave her. He said simply, "It's late. So jao." And took a step toward the washroom. "Dev, please…" He turned and looked at her. He already knew why she was saying this. He noticed how stiff her body had already gone. She wasn't looking at him. Her lashes were lowered. Fists tightened. He took slow, deliberate steps toward her — and with each one, he noticed her growing more stiffened, more frightened, yet still trying to hide it. Two steps away, she closed her eyes. Too tightly. Her breathing turned slow. He took another step and could literally hear her heartbeat — fast, shallow, loud in the silence between them. He feared if he took one more step she would push him away. So he stood at his place — not moving, not closing the distance — only watching her. She didn't move. Didn't open her eyes. He asked quietly, "Do you still want it?" She gathered her courage and said in a low, almost whispered voice, "Yes…" He raised his hand to cup her face. Just that. Nothing more. But her reaction to just that bare touch made his heart bleed in raw pain. Something tore open inside him. Not cleanly. Not the sharp, merciful kind of pain. The raw kind — the kind that bleeds slow, that settles into the bones and stays there, that does not announce itself but simply exists, heavy and permanent and aching. He looked at her face — eyes still shut, jaw tight, a breath held prisoner in her chest — and understood, with a clarity that left no room for comfort, that this was not a battle of nights or weeks or wrong moments. This was a wound. And it had a depth he was only just beginning to see. #love #trauma #past #depression #marriage #arrangemarriage #caring #loving #protective #family #india #indian #hindi #abuse #dark #ceo #cold #slowburn #healing
Shreya
₹541Niyati 2: His Destined Bride
More than a year into marriage, Ranvijay and Niyati have already lived through what most couples face over a lifetime— misunderstandings, emotional distance, avoidance, and unspoken pain. Their relationship was never short of love—but timing, responsibility, and silence changed everything. They didn’t struggle to fall in love. They struggled to stay in love after marriage. This story is about marriage after love, parenthood before healing, and choosing each other when staying becomes harder than leaving. Yet, despite everything, they showed courage by choosing each other. And now—just when they begin finding their way back to each other—life had already changed. Lets dive into their story to know more...
Shreya
₹2152
Niyati: His Destined Bride✅️
Ranvijay Singh Rathore, (32), is commanding, stoic, and fiercely protective—a man of few words whose love is expressed through actions. Dominant, stubborn, and competitive, he prioritizes duty and order over overt affection. Niyati Joshi, 23, is gentle, empathetic, and graceful, yet quietly strong and independent. She craves love, attention, and emotional connection, navigating her privileged but controlled world with patience and resilience. Their arranged marriage is a clash of contrasting needs: her desire for warmth and reassurance, his controlled, action-driven care. Survival depends on empathy, patience, and understanding, gradually discovering intimacy in unspoken gestures and shared responsibilities. #arrangedmarriage marriage #india #indian #oppositesattract #protective #cold #dominant #slowburn #romance #love #pregnancy #breastfeeding #caring #ceo #mafia #dark #mature #grumpy #sunshine
Shreya
₹936
His Unhealed Bride
"Dev." She said his name the moment he entered the room, just as he was heading straight to the washroom without looking at her. He stopped in the middle and looked at her. She took a deep breath and said, "I…I am ready." She tried to sound firm. But failed drastically at it, and she knew it. He looked at her for a few seconds. He already knew what she meant but still asked, "For what?" She bit her lip. Why is he doing this now? But the words wouldn't leave her. He said simply, "It's late. So jao." And took a step toward the washroom. "Dev, please…" He turned and looked at her. He already knew why she was saying this. He noticed how stiff her body had already gone. She wasn't looking at him. Her lashes were lowered. Fists tightened. He took slow, deliberate steps toward her — and with each one, he noticed her growing more stiffened, more frightened, yet still trying to hide it. Two steps away, she closed her eyes. Too tightly. Her breathing turned slow. He took another step and could literally hear her heartbeat — fast, shallow, loud in the silence between them. He feared if he took one more step she would push him away. So he stood at his place — not moving, not closing the distance — only watching her. She didn't move. Didn't open her eyes. He asked quietly, "Do you still want it?" She gathered her courage and said in a low, almost whispered voice, "Yes…" He raised his hand to cup her face. Just that. Nothing more. But her reaction to just that bare touch made his heart bleed in raw pain. Something tore open inside him. Not cleanly. Not the sharp, merciful kind of pain. The raw kind — the kind that bleeds slow, that settles into the bones and stays there, that does not announce itself but simply exists, heavy and permanent and aching. He looked at her face — eyes still shut, jaw tight, a breath held prisoner in her chest — and understood, with a clarity that left no room for comfort, that this was not a battle of nights or weeks or wrong moments. This was a wound. And it had a depth he was only just beginning to see. #love #trauma #past #depression #marriage #arrangemarriage #caring #loving #protective #family #india #indian #hindi #abuse #dark #ceo #cold #slowburn #healing
Shreya
His Transformation: From Control To Surrender
Vardhan: Money and power rule this world. With them, you can have anything you want. Ruhani: “Pyaar bhi?” ("Love too?") Vardhan: smirks faintly “Who even wants it?” Ruhani (thinking): Then why are you forcing me into this marriage? I don’t want a life without love… a loveless bond. Vardhan (in his mind): To own you. To control the chaos you’ve brought into my world. You’re the only thing I can’t command… and that drives me mad, sweetheart. Main Lead: Vardhan Ranavat, 32 — the ruthless CEO of Ranavat Group. Powerful, disciplined, and commanding, he believes everything can be bought and controlled. Conquest is his nature and power his instinct; surrender, his weakness. Ruhani Sharma, 26 — a woman of quiet grace and unshakable integrity. A government officer by day and a tarot reader by night, she lives by truth, not convenience. Beneath her calm lies silent strength and a heart that longs for peace, not power. She seeks not luxury, but truth, respect, and love that feels like home. When Vardhan first hears her voice, something inside him fractures. It begins as fascination, deepens into obsession, and soon consumes his every waking thought. She becomes his calm—and his chaos. But Ruhani does not yield easily. And when persuasion fails, he does what he knows best—he takes control. He forces her into marriage, convinced that possessing her will bring peace to his restless mind. But what he doesn’t foresee is how her silence will speak louder than defiance, how her quiet strength will challenge everything he’s ever believed about power, love, and surrender. When control begins to crumble into longing, and obsession turns to vulnerability—who truly holds the power? Will Ruhani’s strength tame the man who knows no restraint — or will love become just another battlefield where hearts are broken and boundaries blurred? A dark, compelling tale of two souls bound by destiny and divided by desire—where love isn’t tender, and surrender isn’t weakness.
Shreya
₹218
Swara: His Unknown Bride
An accident steals Swara’s memory—and with it, her sense of self. Rakshit Malhotra, cold, ruthless, and fiercely protective, becomes her only anchor. Forced into marriage by circumstances, their worlds collide in a storm of passion, anger, and unspoken longing. But when fragments of her past resurface, will she recognize the man who became her everything… or forget him forever? #RomanticThriller #AmnesiaLoveStory #BillionaireRomance #ForbiddenLove #EnemiesToLovers #FatedLove #ProtectiveHero #StrongHeroine #MemoryLossDrama #EmotionalRomance #LoveAndPassion #HeartfeltStory #SweepingRomance #DramaAndDesire #India #marriage #marriageof convenience #ModernFairytale #PowerAndLove #RuthlessCEO #FierceLove #BookstagramRomance #cold #dominant #sunshine #desi #family
Shreya
His Dream World
In the heart of a bustling city, two souls navigate life with guarded hearts, shaped by experiences that taught them caution, restraint, and self-reliance. Shreya, a devoted government employee, lives quietly within the safe walls of her family. Cheerful and warm at home, she is a portrait of joy with her parents and younger brother-but outside, she remains reserved, careful with her words, and wary of trust. Her dreams of family are quiet and measured: a son to cherish, a daughter to nurture, and a husband who respects women and understands the value of love and loyalty. Yet, past disappointments keep her heart closed, her imagination torn between hope and fear. Reyan Singh Mewar, a formidable business tycoon with generational wealth, walks a life of discipline, dominance, and responsibility. Loved by few, bound by duty, and admired by many, he hides a deep longing for companionship behind a facade of authority and control. Once deceived by love, he refuses to risk his heart again, yet he cannot deny a quiet desire to experience family life-the laughter of children, the tender bonds of a wife who listens, respects, and stands beside him. Fate brings them together in a carefully arranged alliance-a marriage built on duty, respect, and measured expectations. Both are determined not to ask for more than what life requires, yet both harbor private dreams of warmth, connection, and joy. The story unfolds as they navigate the delicate balance between responsibility and emotion, between past scars and future possibilities. Will love bloom in the space between silence and duty? Can they allow themselves the freedom to dream together, or will they remain trapped in their own caution? Through misunderstandings, small joys, and quiet moments-like the simple act of shaping clay on a pottery wheel-their journey questions whether hearts closed by life can truly open, and whether two people can create a shared life richer than the sum of their individual fears and hopes. Copyright ©authourShreya All Rights Reserved All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, screenshotting, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author. Unauthorized use, reproduction, or distribution of this work in any form is strictly prohibited and may result in legal action. I reserve the full rights to pursue remedies, including but not limited to, civil and criminal proceedings, against any individual or entity that violates these rights.
Shreya
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