ππ―π’π¬π‘ππ: ππ’π¬ ππππ«π§ππ₯ ππ¨π«π¦ππ§π
ππππ #1 ππ‘π πππ₯π’π©π¬ππ ππππ«ππ¬ πππ«π’ππ¬. ｑβͺ He dragged her onto his lap, his grip firm, his eyes cold with something deeper than anger. She struggled, tears sliding down as she hit his chest weakly. "You always do this to me," she cried, voice cracking like a broken child's. "You don't even care... I hate you!" He didn't react-not to her words, not to her tears. Just stared, his gaze dark and possessive. Then he took her hand, guided it down. "Open the zip," he murmured, his voice low and commanding. "Take me inside... and complain properly, bachha." --- Tropes : βStudent Γ professor βGrumpy Γ sunshine βSlow burn βForced proximity β18+ Copyright Β© 2025 Bella This book is purely a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, places, or people, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author, except for brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Written by: bella
