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Mafia Indebted

"Don't please," she sobbed, shaking badly. The fear of her situation was slowly sinking in. "Please let me go, I want to go home." She cried. He smirked and cupped her face. She immediately stiffened upon his touch and stared into his Smokey grey eyes. "You are home, tara, this is your home now, by my side." He spoke firmly. She saw the determination in his eyes and her eyes widened with shock. "No!" she shrieked and tried to push him away but he didn't budge. Before she could retaliate, he had caught her wrists in a vice-like grip with one hand and locked them down  while with the other hand, he firmly griped the back of her neck, his fingers digging into her scalp, making her whimper. "Refuse me again tara, go on, I fucking dare you." He hissed, his eyes blazing with rage, the grey had darkened. But she wasn't one to give up so easily. "Let me go..." she tried to shout but was immediately silenced by his lips crashing against hers into a fiery harsh kiss. Meet Anissa Ghalib, a young doctor, possessing a strong, kind and confident character. She's a known beauty and has a very high moral sense and regard. For her, family is everything and she would do anything to protect her family. So, what happens when a certain grey eyed crime boss claims her as his? Shehryaar Ghulari, the cold and ruthless mafia leader of the country's most dangerous Mafia; He's a powerful man who gets anything he wants. He's cold, brutal and absolutely inhuman, a borderline psychopath. For him, morals and ethics hold no meaning, Family is nothing. He rules with tyranny and loves every bit of it. What will happen when the country's most powerful and dangerous man becomes indebted to a certain doctor? It starts with a twisted malice, obsession, murder, lust, politics, darkness, sacrifice and love.   A story where Innocence clashes  with culpability. Simplicity with sophistication. Bloodlust with conscience. Lust with Love. Good with Bad.

Beenish Shaheen · 现代言情
分數不夠
102 Chs

Chapter 62

Shehryaar woke up with a start.

For a moment, he felt completely disoriented.

I'm alive? That was the first thought that came to his mind. And his mind began to recall the moment before he lost unconsciousness:

My eyes wouldn't stay open. I'm trying my best to retain some shred of consciousness but this fucking blood loss is making me too weak.

Heaving, I sat against the wall and tried to balance myself but my mind was getting hazy and light.

I swallowed against the blood in my throat and slumps down to the ground.

I'm so tired.

The darkness is surrounding me, waiting for me to succumb to it. Funny, I was always surrounded by darkness and I loved it. I dwelled in it. I always found comfort in it.

But why is it that this darkness seemed intimidating? As if, surrendering to it will be the ultimate loss.

Was death calling to me?

Maybe. I had nothing to live for anyway.

The only thing I cared for and lived for was gone and probably won't come back and it's my fucking fault.