AUTHOR'S NOTE – 𝕸𝖎𝖓𝖊 𝖄𝖊𝖘! ✨
💀 Warning: This chapter will make your heart race. If you're not comfortable with intensity, tension, and a devil who knows exactly how to play with emotions—you're free to leave. But when you're ready to feel every stolen breath, every lingering touch, and every whispered temptation…
my LOVE WELCOME HOME💋🔥
Now, let's talk about what just happened.
Oh. My. God. This chapter. 😳🔥
🔥 Rudra Singhaniya in his full devilish glory. He's not just teasing Anaya—he's testing her, pulling her into his world where control is an illusion and emotions are dangerous. His words? A slow-burning fire. His proximity? A trap she's already fallen into. And that whisper? Tell me you didn't feel that. 👀💀
🖤 Anaya's walls are crumbling. She fights it, denies it, but her body betrays her. One shiver, one moment of weakness—and Rudra sees it all. But is he just playing, or is there something deeper beneath his smirks and whispers? 👀
💬 Let's talk in the comments!
💥 Did this chapter wreck you? (Because same.)
💥 Was that tension too much or just right?
💥 Who do you think will break first—Rudra or Anaya?
I love reading your thoughts, so don't hold back! Your comments, votes, and shares keep this story alive! 💙✨
💫 Support & Stay Connected!
📌 Vote & Comment – Your support fuels my writing! 🥹
📌 Follow for updates! – @penola23words
📌Instagram & Pinterest – @psole23.words
📌 YouTube – @psole23_words📌 Webnovel – @penola.s
📌 Join my Discord! – Let's chat!
📌 Read More on Webnovel, Wattpad, Inkitt & Pocket Novel!
Thank you for being part of this journey. More chapters coming soon—get ready for the next storm! 😈🔥
— PENOLA.S💜✨
📚✒️📑)———————
Anaya stood in front of her open wardrobe, frustration evident on her face as she rummaged through her drawers. Normally, she was an organized person—everything had its place. But today, her wardrobe looked like a mini disaster zone.
"Ugh! Where did I put it?" she muttered, shifting clothes and accessories aside.
She was looking for her journal—the one she had written some important notes in. But no matter where she searched, it was nowhere to be found.
"Anaya, are you getting old already?" she scolded herself, making a pouty baby face. "I'm not even 21 yet… Oh, Lord Ganesh, where did I put it?"
While she was busy talking to herself, Rudra entered the room. His gaze swept over the space—perfectly arranged except for the small mess she had created in her search.
Leaning against the doorframe of the changing area, he crossed his arms, sleeves rolled up, his phone in one hand. A small, amused smirk played on his lips as he watched her struggle.
For a man like Rudra Singhaniya, whose world revolved around control and precision, this scene was… different.
His plain, neatly arranged room now had traces of his wife's presence—her small accessories, clothes she had taken out but not put back, her voice filling the silent space.
His smirk deepened slightly as he rubbed his temple.
Just then, he noticed how cute she looked while mumbling to herself. Her brows furrowed, lips pouted, and she moved around in an adorable yet chaotic way.
Without thinking much, Rudra took out his phone and clicked a picture.
Click!
Anaya immediately froze.
Her eyes widened as she turned around, spotting Rudra standing there.
"Aap—tum?! Umm… yahan?" she stammered, her cheeks turning a faint pink. "It's afternoon. What are you doing here?"
Rudra casually slid his phone back into his pocket, pretending as if nothing had happened. "I came to change," he said coolly. Then, with a teasing glint in his eyes, he added, "But looking at this mess, I think I should use the bathroom instead."
Anaya's gaze darted toward the dressing area. She immediately felt guilty.
"This is a bit messy… I'm so sorry," she said, her lips forming a small 'O' shape as she turned back to him.
Rudra's gaze softened for a fraction of a second. She really doesn't realize how cute she looks, he thought.
As she bent down to pick up a few scattered things, Rudra smirked.
"Dare you say you're searching for something," he said, his deep voice filled with amusement. "The room doesn't look messy yet, but my wife…" He trailed off, teasingly.
Anaya narrowed her eyes and marched toward him.
"Kya bola aapne? What do you mean, Mr. Wallet, hmm?" she challenged, placing her hands on her hips.
Rudra raised an eyebrow, his smirk still in place.
She had unknowingly walked too close, standing barely inches away from him.
For a moment, there was silence.
Their eyes locked.
Anaya, flustered, quickly stepped back.
"Forget it! I don't have time to argue with you!" she huffed, turning back to her search.
Rudra, still leaning against the doorframe, watched her with an expression that was almost… fond.
She hadn't realized yet.
But he was slowly getting used to this—getting used to her in his space.
💕.______..______..______..______.🫣.______..______..______..______.💕
Chapter: Trapped by the Devil
Anaya froze, her hands still gripping the scattered accessories she had been arranging.
"Hmm… Mr. Wallet," Rudra murmured, his deep voice holding a teasing lilt. "That's my nickname, isn't it?"
Anaya blinked, momentarily confused.
"I'm not Devil now?" he asked, his gaze sharp yet playful.
Her breath hitched as realization dawned on her. She had unknowingly blurted out his old nickname—the one she used to call him when they weren't this close.
Her mind raced. Wait… I never told him about the 'Wallet' and 'Devil' thing… Then how does he know?!
She turned her head away, her cheeks warming in embarrassment. She tried to hide her face, her fingers nervously fiddling with the hem of her top.
Rudra, catching her reaction, leaned in slightly.
"Do I look like a devil?" he asked, his tone low and deliberate.
Anaya's eyes widened.
His voice held an unspoken challenge, his presence suddenly too overwhelming. She swallowed, but before she could answer, he took a step forward.
She instinctively stepped back.
Rudra's smirk deepened.
"Am I a devil, velvet?" he murmured, stepping forward again.
Anaya, startled by the nickname, kept stepping back.
One step.
Another step.
Her heart pounded as Rudra continued his slow approach, his tall frame towering over her. At 6'4", he made her 5'6" height feel small.
She wanted to deny the effect he had on her, but her body betrayed her.
Step by step, he closed the distance.
Her back suddenly met the middle counter—the sleek wooden surface where some of their watches and accessories were kept.
Trapped.
Anaya gasped softly as Rudra's arms came up, caging her in without touching her.
She wasn't sure if it was intentional or not, but his closeness made the air between them thick with tension.
His eyes—dark, unreadable, yet intense—gazed at her face, making her feel exposed.
Anaya's fingers curled into tiny fists.
Her throat felt dry.
Why was he looking at her like that?
"R-Rudra…" she whispered hesitantly, eyes darting everywhere but at him.
But he didn't answer.
Instead, he tilted his head slightly, observing her reactions, his gaze dropping briefly to her lips before returning to her eyes.
The silence stretched.
Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure he could hear it.
Her breath hitched when he leaned in just a fraction closer, his cologne—dark, musky, and entirely him—invading her senses.
She felt nervous. Shy. Trapped.
Yet, there was something else beneath it all… something unfamiliar.
Rudra smirked slightly, seeing her reactions.
"So, velvet," he whispered, voice smooth yet dangerously soft.
Anaya squeezed her eyes shut for a second. This man…
She had no idea why he was acting like this today, but one thing was clear—Rudra Singhaniya was in trouble.
————————————⟫🫣⟪————————————
Anaya's breath came out in uneven gasps, her chest rising and falling as she tried to steady herself.
She felt cornered. Not just physically but emotionally, too.
Her back pressed against the middle counter, her fingers gripping the cool edge of the surface behind her as if it could ground her in this overwhelming moment.
Rudra was too close. His tall frame cast a shadow over her, his presence consuming all the space between them.
She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry.
"You…" she started, her voice barely above a whisper. "You are not a devil."
Her words cracked, betraying her nervousness.
Rudra's dark eyes gleamed with something unreadable. He tilted his head slightly, watching her like a predator amused by his prey's feeble attempts to escape.
"Oh?" His voice was nothing more than a husky murmur. "Are you admitting that I'm not a devil now?"
Anaya's heart pounded. She tried to turn her face away, but Rudra leaned in further, his lips hovering just beside her ear.
The warmth of his breath sent an involuntary shiver down her spine.
"Are you stuck in this conflict of change?" he murmured, his deep voice laced with something dangerously smooth.
Anaya felt trapped between the past and the present—between the cold, distant Rudra she once feared and this man in front of her, who was… something else entirely.
This Rudra wasn't just cold.
He was dangerous.
But not in a way that made her afraid.
No, this was different. This was something new.
Her body tensed as she felt the light touch of his silk tie grazing her collarbone, the faint friction sending an electric current through her skin.
Her breath hitched.
The room felt smaller, the air heavier.
"This statement is clear," Rudra continued, his voice dropping to a whisper that made her toes curl.
"I am a devil."
His lips were so close to her ear that his whisper felt like a sinful caress against her skin.
Anaya squeezed her eyes shut as another shiver ran through her body.
She didn't know if it was the heat of his presence, the way his words wrapped around her like a spell, or the sheer intensity of this moment—
But her body betrayed her.
A soft, involuntary tremor passed through her, and Rudra felt it.
A smirk tugged at his lips.
His voice dropped lower, more intimate. "Did I just feel you shiver, Mrs. Singhaniya?"
Anaya's eyes snapped open.
She bit her lower lip, trying to suppress the rush of emotions threatening to spill over.
He was playing with her.
He knew exactly what he was doing.
Her fingers twitched against the counter as she tried to find her voice, her courage.
"You—" she started, but Rudra pulled back slightly, just enough to look into her eyes.
For a second, the teasing amusement faded from his expression, replaced by something darker.
Something raw.
Something that made Anaya's heart stop for a breath.
But before she could decipher what it was, the mask was back.
Rudra smirked, stepping back, allowing her space to breathe.
"I should get changed," he said casually, as if nothing had happened.
Anaya, still frozen, watched as he turned toward the wardrobe.
Her fingers brushed over her neck where she could still feel the ghost of his presence.
Her body still hummed with the sensation of him—his words, his warmth, his closeness.
Her lips parted, but no words came out.
Because, deep down, she knew one thing—
She might have denied it before.
She might have tried to convince herself otherwise.
But Rudra Singhaniya was a devil.
A devil who knew exactly how to make her feel things she wasn't ready to face.