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#SLICEOFLIFE
#VILLAIN
#BETRAYAL
#CEO
#LOVEATFIRSTSIGHT

Not perfect enough for Love

“Fated" is meeting the same soul in every lifetime, loving them even through deception. It’s the weight of tears spilled on the same shoulder, century after century. It’s collision after separation—an inevitable return, as if the universe itself bends to bring us together. Fated is you. Fated is us. Fated is love’s fire, friendship’s anchor, family’s unbreakable thread—even the cruelest twists of fate that still led me to you. We are fated, Adam. --- Aziza—a bloodstained paradise, torn between spies and mafias in a war without end. The only hope for peace? A vow sworn in childhood, binding two heirs: Salama, the mafia princess, and Adam, the spy king. Their marriage was meant to end the conflict, but love was never part of the bargain. Hate ignited their first touch. Despair shadowed every glance. Yet through years of bullets and betrayal, longing festered beneath the fury. Now, they stand at the edge of destiny—will their love save Aziza, or drown it in flames? --- Adam’s voice, raw with devotion: “Salama, I’ve heard napalm is a gut-wrenching poison—a chemical that devours flesh. But I’d swallow it gladly before I’d lose you. You’re the only antidote to the venom my father pumped into my veins."* Salama’s reply, a blade of ice and agony: "I can’t love a man baptized in darkness. If I could carve you from my heart, I would. But even my hatred for you… feels like obsession."

Muskan_umata · Perkotaan
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23 Chs
#SLICEOFLIFE
#VILLAIN
#BETRAYAL
#CEO
#LOVEATFIRSTSIGHT

I`ll always be your enemy

Chapter 20

I sit by the shore of what's left of my city. The air, fragrant with a faint hint of jasmine, carries no sign of life since everyone was killed.

The neighbour who often cooked beef broth is no longer. The kid who yelled at the other children with a stick in hand is no longer. The warm bed that snuggled me is no longer.

The only thing left of them is the smoke, lingering like a stubborn memory.

Bits of stubborn infrastructure refuse to fall with the bombs, standing as silent witnesses to the devastation.

Grandmother.

I miss you. I wish you were here with me now.

***

"Do you miss him?" I asked.

"Who, my dear?" Grandmother's eyes twinkled with the wisdom of years.

"Your husband and children... You always tell me stories of them."