Author’s Note
Welcome to my story!
This is my first time sharing my work on this platform, and I want to thank you for taking the time to read it. English is not my first language, and while I strive to improve with every word I write, you may come across occasional grammatical or language errors. I kindly ask for your patience and understanding as I continue to learn and grow. Your support and encouragement mean the world to me.
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Copyright Notice
© All Rights Reserved.
This work is a product of the author’s imagination and creativity. All characters, events, places, and situations are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or real events is purely coincidental and unintentional.
This story and its contents may not be copied, distributed, translated, reproduced, or shared in any form—digital or otherwise—without the author’s explicit written consent. This includes social media sharing, reposting, and adaptations. If you would like to quote or feature a portion of this work, please contact the author for permission. Respecting intellectual property ensures that creators can continue to bring stories like this to life. Thank you for your understanding and cooperation.
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Content Warning
Please read carefully before continuing.
This story contains mature and potentially triggering themes intended for a mature audience. Reader discretion is strongly advised.
The narrative explores complex emotional and psychological dynamics that may include (but are not limited to):
Explicit adult content
Power imbalances
Emotional manipulation
Psychological tension and obsession
Intense interpersonal relationships
Themes of control, vulnerability, and mental health
These themes are handled with narrative intent and are integral to the development of the plot and characters. However, I understand that such content may not be suitable for everyone. If you are sensitive to these topics or uncomfortable with mature or intense psychological material, I kindly suggest proceeding with caution or considering whether this story is the right fit for you.
Your well-being as a reader is important.
CHARACTERS
Kaira Malhotra – The Professor with a Past
Elegant, intelligent, and composed—Kaira is a respected psychology professor with a haunting vulnerability beneath her academic poise. Married to a man who loves her deeply, she hides the emotional wounds of a strained relationship with her father and a heart that's never truly been touched by passion. A single mistake ignites a wildfire of forbidden desire and spirals her life into chaos, forcing her to confront truths she buried long ago.
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Vihaan Sharma – The Obsessive Flame
Dark, enigmatic, and dangerously charming—Vihaan is no ordinary college student. Behind his boyish smirk lies a man who knows what he wants and will stop at nothing to get it. After one unforgettable night with Kaira, he becomes obsessed. His attraction turns possessive, and soon, he's weaving himself into every corner of her life, threatening her career, her marriage, and her carefully built world.
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Aviraaj Khurana – The Devoted Husband
Successful, patient, and heartbreakingly kind—Aviraaj is the man who gave Kaira shelter from her past and stability in a world that once betrayed her. He loves her deeply, but when the truth unravels, he's forced to choose between protecting the woman he loves or walking away from the betrayal that breaks him. Will his love endure the storm of obsession and lies?
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What happens when the night you regret becomes the face you can’t escape?
Kaira Malhotra has everything most people only dream of—beauty, success, admiration, and a life wrapped in luxury. As a respected professor at a prestigious university and the wife of Aviraaj Khurana, a powerful and influential businessman, Kaira appears to be the embodiment of elegance and grace. To the world, she is the perfect woman living the perfect life.
But behind the designer clothes, award-winning lectures, and grand mansion lies a truth Kaira has buried so deeply, even she no longer dares to face it. Her marriage to Aviraaj is not a love story. A strategic escape from a past filled with pain, loneliness, and the sharp silence of a father who emotionally abandoned her after the death of her mother. Her life is a performance. Every smile, every public appearance, every affectionate gesture is meticulously rehearsed.
Kaira is admired by many—but truly known by no one. She exists, but she is not alive.
Until one night shatters everything.
A rare moment of recklessness. A few too many drinks. And a devastatingly magnetic stranger who offers her something she hasn't felt in years—freedom. Heat. Hunger. Life.
Vihaan Sharma is temptation in its most dangerous form. With a voice like velvet and eyes that hold secrets, he draws Kaira into a whirlwind night of passion—raw, wild, and utterly consuming. It’s a mistake, one she swears will never happen again. She erases the night from her memory… until fate throws him back into her life.
Not as a fleeting stranger.
Not as a memory.
But as her new student.
The tension is electric. The connection, undeniable.
Vihaan is younger, bold, and infuriatingly persistent. But underneath his charm is something darker—a relentless obsession. He doesn’t just want Kaira. He wants to own her heart, her body, her secrets. And he’s willing to destroy everything in his path to get her.
As Kaira tries to maintain control, the lines between right and wrong, guilt and desire, begin to blur. Each stolen glance, each forbidden touch chips away at her resolve. Aviraaj, loyal and loving, remains unaware of the storm brewing within his wife's soul. But how long can she keep the truth hidden? How long before desire burns everything she holds dear to ash?
Kaira is trapped in a dangerous game of seduction, deception, and emotional warfare—where every choice comes with a price.
And the deeper she falls into Vihaan’s twisted world, the more she wonders:
Is this obsession… or something far more destructive?
Peek Inside
"You don’t want it to end," Vihaan’s voice was a velvet whisper in the dim light of her office, each word dripping with unspoken promises. He stepped closer, his presence overpowering, electric.
His fingers brushed lightly against her wrist, and the simple touch sent a tremor of heat coursing through her veins.
"I do," Kaira whispered, her voice barely audible—fragile, trembling with conflict. But even as the words left her mouth, they felt hollow. A lie she told herself because the truth was far too dangerous.
Vihaan tilted his head, eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that was almost predatory. "Then why are you still here?" he murmured, his breath ghosting across her skin, sending shivers down her spine.
The space between them vanished. His hand found the small of her back, his fingers pressing gently but firmly, anchoring her to him. Her body betrayed her mind—leaning in, craving more.
She knew this was wrong. That this man, this moment, could ruin everything.
But when his lips hovered over hers, teasingly close, Kaira could no longer tell if she was resisting…
Or surrendering.
“Some people marry for love. Some for survival. And sometimes, survival pretends to be love for far too long.”
The world saw them as perfect.
Kaira Khurana—elegant, poised, brilliant. A professor of English literature at one of Mumbai’s most prestigious universities, adored by her students and envied by her colleagues. And beside her, always impeccably dressed and quietly commanding, stood Aviraaj Khurana—business magnate, philanthropist, husband.
To the outside world, theirs was a fairy tale—the quiet kind, the sophisticated kind. A couple carved from the pages of a glossy magazine. But behind the soft smiles and the red carpet appearances was a truth so raw that even Kaira had stopped trying to name it.
Because this marriage… wasn’t about love.
It had been a choice made in desperation, a decision born from grief, pride, and a shattered home. After her mother’s death, Kaira’s world fell into a silence she couldn't escape. Her father, once her hero, had become a stranger overnight—cold, bitter, accusing. They had grown distant in a way that words could no longer bridge.
She still remembered the night she left her childhood home—her father’s cruel words echoing behind her, her hands shaking as she dialed Aviraaj’s number. She hadn’t planned to ask him. But the moment the call connected, the words had stumbled out in a whisper:
“Marry me.”
He didn’t hesitate. That was Aviraaj.
They had known each other through family circles. He had always looked at her with quiet admiration, always polite, always respectful. He had never tried to charm her, never crossed boundaries. But he had always seen her.
When she asked, he simply said, “If that’s what you want, Kaira.”
The wedding was elegant. A few whispered questions floated among guests—Why so sudden? Was it love?—but they were silenced by the grandeur of the event, the way Aviraaj never let go of her hand, the way Kaira smiled and played the part.
And over the years, it worked.
He never demanded affection. He gave her space to breathe. He brought her tea when she worked late on lectures, warmed her hands in his when hers went cold. He touched her gently, if at all. When she couldn’t sleep, he lay beside her and let her cry silently into the pillow without asking questions.
It was comfort.
It was safety.
But it wasn’t passion.
There were nights—endless nights—when Kaira lay awake, staring at the high ceiling of their bedroom, wondering what it would feel like to burn with someone. To lose herself in the arms of someone who needed her—not because she was broken, not because she was escaping, but because he couldn't help it.
She never said it aloud. That would be betrayal.
And yet, the thought lingered. Like the bitter taste of wine left too long in the mouth.
It was on one such night that she stood alone in the balcony of their penthouse, the city glittering beneath her. The wind tugged at the silk of her robe, and her hair danced like shadows behind her. Aviraaj was away on a business trip to Singapore, his absence like a warm silence in the home they shared.
She loved him. In her own way.
But did she love him enough to never wonder?
Kaira closed her eyes and sighed, her fingers tightening around the edge of the balcony. Her wedding ring caught the moonlight. A sudden chill ran down her spine.
The next day would change everything.
The next evening, her department hosted a celebration for her—an academic grant she had worked years to win had finally been approved. It was supposed to be a professional, modest affair. But her colleagues insisted on drinks at a plush South Mumbai lounge.
She wore a black dress—not revealing, but the kind that hugged in the right places, whispering of elegance rather than shouting. Her hair was in soft waves down her back, and her makeup subtle, eyes lined in charcoal that made them look even more haunted than usual.
The lounge was dimly lit, golden lights casting long shadows on wine glasses and polished mahogany. Music thrummed gently, unobtrusively—jazz, slow and smooth.
Kaira barely touched her drink at first. But then came a toast. Then another. And then… she let go.
Laughter came easier than it had in weeks. The tightness in her chest loosened. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the freedom of not pretending for one night.
And then she saw him.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Sitting alone at the bar, sipping whiskey like it was meant to be worshipped. Dark eyes smoldered beneath thick lashes, his lips curled in a half-smile that spoke of mischief and sin. He looked… younger. But not too young. Old enough to know danger. Young enough to chase it.
Their eyes met.
And something clicked.
It wasn’t innocent. It wasn’t accidental. It was the kind of eye contact that asked questions without words, that threatened to turn breath into fire.
She looked away.
He didn’t.
Moments later, he was beside her.
“You’re not like the rest of them,” he said, voice low, masculine, smooth like silk soaked in smoke.
Kaira arched a brow. “Is that supposed to be a compliment or a pickup line?”
He smirked. “Both, I hope.”
She laughed, surprising herself.
They talked. About poetry. Politics. Her work. His interest in literature. He was intelligent—sharp and articulate—but it was the way he listened that unnerved her. Like he could read between her words. Like he knew she was crumbling on the inside.
He didn’t ask if she was married.
She didn’t offer.
Another drink.
A whisper too close to her ear.
A brush of his fingers along her wrist.
It was insanity.
It was temptation.
And when he leaned in and said, “Let’s get out of here,” she didn’t stop herself.
Not when he led her into the waiting cab.
Not when his hand rested just above her knee.
Not when they burst through the door of a hotel room like two sparks desperate to become a blaze.
They didn’t speak.
His mouth found hers the moment the door shut, urgent and hot. Her back slammed against the wall, and her dress was bunched at her thighs before she could think. His fingers slid along the bare skin of her waist, and Kaira’s gasp was swallowed by his kiss.
She was drowning—and for once, she didn’t want to swim.
His shirt came off. Her dress fell to the floor. Every inch of his body was honed like marble, but his touch was fire—everywhere at once, possessive and reverent. Her bra snapped away with a practiced flick, and he stared at her like a starving man.
“You’re perfect,” he said, voice ragged.
She didn’t feel perfect.
She felt alive.
They moved to the bed, tangled and breathless. When he entered her, she cried out—a sound she hadn’t made in years. He moved slowly at first, watching her, learning her. Then faster, deeper, until she was clawing at the sheets, her body unraveling beneath him.
It wasn’t just sex.
It was something feral. Something that shattered the cage she had built around herself.
And in the moments after, when her head lay against his chest, she wanted to pretend it didn’t matter.
But it did.
And she knew it would cost her everything.
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