The car pulled into the driveway of Kabir's family home, in a small village, and I felt a thrill of anticipation mixed with disgust. The house was a sprawling mansion, all marble pillars and manicured gardens, the kind of wealth that made my cunt clench with greed.
Beside me, Kabir squeezed my hand, his eyes full of love and trust.
I have started something I am not even sure anyone would read. Now here we are. Me—still writing. You—still here. I’m not backed by fame or algorithms, just pure passion… and you. So if you’re reading this, thank you. Your support doesn’t just help—it builds this journey. And every share, every comment, every cheer? It’s another “Keep going.” And I will. For you to read. Comment your darkest desires to read in the story.
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