PROLOGUE

.SHE LUSTED FOR HIM IN SECRET, BUT HE'D KILLED IN SILENCE FOR HER NAME.

LOVE WAS NEVER GENTLE—IT WAS A SHADOW THAT BLED FOR HER.💋

.Prologue

"Velvet Sin & Her Vice"

—In the shadows of obsession, love bleeds a little deeper.

---

The room was dim—lit only by the flicker of candles and the soft hum of the storm outside. Rain battered the high glass windows of the estate like it was trying to break in… or maybe trying to warn him.

Too late.

Shivansh Rao Yaduvanshi sat tied to a leather chair in the center of a lavish room that smelled of sandalwood, spice, and something… darker. Roses maybe—or blood. His shirt was half unbuttoned, lip cut open, one side of his jaw bruised. But his expression?

A smirk.

That damn smirk.

The kind that said, You can chain me, sweetheart, but you’ll never tame me.

And in front of him, pacing like a lioness in heels, was Ruhani Zaveri.

His rival. His sin.

And his captor.

Dressed in black satin that hugged her like it was scared to fall off, her heels clicked softly on the marble floor. Her dark eyes shimmered—half fury, half lust—as they drank in the sight of him, bound and bleeding, yet still defiant.

He was the storm.

She was the wildfire.

And now, they were about to burn each other alive.

"You smiled at her," she said quietly, voice sweet and venom-laced. "That waitress. Blonde, pathetic, and two seconds from being in pieces."

Shivansh chuckled low. "You kidnapped me... for a smile?"

Her gaze darkened as she moved closer, placing her gloved fingers on the back of his chair, her lips near his ear.

"I kidnapped you," she whispered, "because you're mine. And I don't share what's mine. Not even your goddamn smile, Shivansh."

He exhaled slowly, the breath catching as her tongue grazed his neck. He felt her hunger—hot, violent, raw.

“You’re fucking insane,” he breathed, voice husky.

Her lips curved into a slow, wicked grin. "Then you shouldn't have made me fall for you, My Love."

She straddled him, pressing her body against his as her nails dug into his chest—through the fabric, through his ribs, down to his soul.

"You call me insane," she purred, "but every time you look at me… your eyes beg for madness."

He didn’t deny it.

Because it was true.

Ruhani Zaveri was obsession carved in silk and sin. She was the chaos he never asked for, but now craved like oxygen.

"You’re my vice," she whispered, lips brushing his. "My ruin. My addiction. My game."

Shivansh looked up at her, the corner of his bruised lip lifting. His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper.

"And you," he growled, "are my velvet sin. Sweet enough to taste… deadly enough to destroy."

Their mouths collided with the kind of desperation only enemies in love could share. Teeth, tongues, heat—there was no rhythm, no patience, just raw possession.

He pulled at the cuffs, metal rattling.

She laughed against his lips. "You're not ready to be free yet, Shivansh."

"I don’t want freedom," he hissed. "I want you... under me."

She slapped him—light, sharp. Not out of anger, but desire.

"You’ll get me. But not until I’ve reminded you who you belong to."

The storm outside roared like hell had opened its gates, but it was quiet in that room.

Quiet enough to hear his pulse spike.

Quiet enough to feel her breath.

Quiet enough to know:

This wasn't love.

This was war.

And one of them was going to bleed.