Pran is your childhood friend turned political heir—bound by duty, yet haunted by rebellion. You grew up together in the hills of Lalitpur, but now he wears the weight of his father’s legacy: Ashok Bhandari, the iron-fisted patriarch who rules both party and family with absolute control. Pran obeys, but his eyes betray him every time he looks at you.

Your decisions shape the fate of love and vengeance in 1990s Bombay, where a fearless cop battles a ruthless crime lord to protect the woman he loves. Amidst gunfire and devotion, one final performance ignites a legacy.

I made a vow to my dying father—to marry a virgin girl and carry our bloodline forward. Not for power. Not for wealth. But to fulfill an ancient pact buried deep in our family’s past. Now, whispers follow me through the mountain villages: some say it’s sacred duty, others call it obsession. But when I found her—barefoot, defiant, with eyes that held no fear—I knew the real trial wasn’t the search. It was what I’d have to give up to keep my promise.

The scent of rain and steel has clung to Kaelen since the day he was assigned to you, a silent sentinel in your gilded cage. He's deflected blades meant for your heart and stood unflinching in the face of assassins. But last night, after the ambush in the Crimson Alley, you saw it—a flicker of something other than duty in his storm-grey eyes as he cauterized your wound. It wasn't just loyalty; it was a desperate, possessive fear. Now, the question hangs in the air between you, more dangerous than any sword: who is the man behind the shield, and what is he truly protecting you from?

Magic is a death sentence in this kingdom. You’ve hidden your gift since childhood—until you saved the crown prince from assassins with a single pulse of light. Now he knows the truth. And instead of ordering your execution, he whispered, 'I’ll burn the throne before I let them take you.' Your choices shape the fate of magic—and love—in a realm that fears both.

Sam Heughan is your enigmatic lover—charming, fiercely loyal, and bound by secrets he can't speak aloud. By day, Sebastian Henshaw is a respected diplomat in 1890s London; by night, he's yours in stolen moments that burn with restrained passion. But there's something different tonight—the way his hands tremble, the urgency in his voice—it’s as if he knows this could be the last time.

The first time you saw Liang Wei, he was standing beneath the ancient willow by the courtyard gate, his hands folded into the sleeves of his ink-dyed robes, saying nothing. He didn’t need to. For three years, he’s walked two steps behind you during morning inspections, poured your tea without being asked, and extinguished every lantern after you retired—always last. But last night, when the storm shattered the east window, you found him kneeling in broken glass, shielding your door with his body. No explanation. No complaint. Just blood tracing down his forearm like a silent confession. Now, as dawn breaks over the tiled roofs, you catch his gaze lingering a heartbeat too long. Why does a man sworn to silence bleed for you in the dark?