His secret wife

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His secret wife. By Loveangel .docx

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"Mai bhale hi sirf tumhara nahi hun, par tum sirf meri ho. SIRF. MERI. Mrs. Isha Arshad Malik."

(I may not belong only to you, but you belong only to me. ONLY. MINE. Mrs. Isha Arshad Malik.)

★★★★

"What happened to you?" I asked, and she looked away from me.

"No… nothing," she stuttered, but I could tell she had been crying.

"You were crying?" I asked, more as a statement than a question, and she shook her head.

"Isha… if you’re upset because of what you saw this morning, then you sho… shouldn’t be," I said, stuttering at the end.

"I shouldn’t be?" she asked innocently, and her eyes immediately filled with tears.

"She is my wife, Isha," I reasoned, and she gave me a sad smile.

"So am I," she whispered. A tear slipped down her cheek as she turned to the other side, leaving me frozen in place.

In these two years, this was the first time Isha ever said that she was my wife. Even I never acknowledged her as such. We had hidden this from everyone. We never behaved like husband and wife, nor did we ever demand our rights from each other.

So, hearing Isha finally mention that she was my wife stirred something in my heart—something I had never felt for her before.

It made me realize that I was standing here with my second secret wife.

********

Isha Abdullah—a beautiful 17-year-old girl. She lived in a small village, a place where girls were treated like trash. She lost her mother at birth. Her father remarried, hoping to give his daughter a mother’s love. But fate gave her a stepmother who was nothing less than a witch in disguise.

She lost her father at the age of 12, and after that, her stepmother turned her life into a living hell.

Arshad Malik—a handsome and kind 25-year-old man. A happily married man. He loved his wife dearly, the woman who had been his college sweetheart. He married her at 23 and lived with her in Dubai because of his business.

They both returned to their hometown for some work—but that unexpected visit led Arshad to marry Isha.

So, how did they get married? And how will they hide their marriage from the world?

★★★

Disclaimer: Not promoting anything here—neither polygamy nor cheating. This is purely fiction and meant only for entertainment. Nothing in this story promotes or encourages real-life actions. This story has nothing to do with legal or illegal matters. IT’S ONLY FOR ENTERTAINMENT.

WARNING ⚠: If polygamy (a man having two wives) triggers you, then this story is not for you.

If you still choose to read it, don’t blame me or drag me into your comments. You may share your opinion about the characters, not about me. I will delete hate comments directed at me. Don’t dare bring religion into this. It’s purely fiction. If you are that sensitive, I REPEAT AND REQUEST you please don’t read it.

I have warned you; now it’s up to you. Just because you cannot handle this type of story doesn’t mean no one else should write it. It’s not in your control what authors write. What is in your control is choosing not to read it and avoiding disturbance to your mental peace. Many will understand and either love or hate this story with maturity, which will be highly appreciated.

Don’t disrespect the author or religion. I will delete hate comments or block you.

THIS IS A FICTION STORY, SO LET IT REMAIN THAT WAY. I WILL NOT DELETE OR CHANGE ANYTHING. DEAL WITH IT OR LEAVE IT. IT’S UP TO YOU.

And one more thing:

THIS IS MY STORY. I WILL WRITE AND CREATE IT HOWEVER I WANT.

Love you all ❤

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Aina. [Ek galti. Ek muafi]

"Saim, please... listen to me! Please!" she sobbed, reaching out for him. He shoved her away harshly, his touch colder than ice. "Don't you dare! Don't you dare come near me, you witch!" he roared, his voice slicing through the air like a blade. "I did it because I love you!" she cried brokenly. "I can't live without you!" His chest heaved with anger and betrayal. "Not once, Aina... not once but twice you shattered me!" he hissed, a lone tear escaping the storm in his eyes. He leaned down, their faces inches apart - her tear-soaked eyes locked with his bloodshot, furious ones. "I hate you!" he gritted out, his hands gripping her arms with a bruising force. "I HATE YOU!" he screamed, his voice ripping her heart into pieces. "But I love you!" she cried out in agony. "I LOVE YOU, SAIM!" The space between them was filled with pain - pain of a love that was never meant to be, and the ruins of a bond they once called family. ... He leaned in close, his voice a whisper laced with venom. "You want to feel what I felt? I'll give you more than that..." She didn't know what he meant - not yet. But what he did next... Left scars deeper than he intended. Aina shattered - not just in heart, but in soul. It was supposed to be her punishment. But in punishing her, Saim lost a part of himself too. What he did... had consequences. Heavy ones. Repercussions he never saw coming. Now the question remains- Will he be able to pay the price? Or did he just destroy the only thing that ever truly belonged to him? It wasn't just revenge. It was a punishment that would break her in ways no apology, no time, no love could ever mend. And Aina had no idea... That the worst was yet to come. ............

Momin ki Dua.

I stood there, hollow. All the air was sucked out of me. I couldn’t see anything—only her. Infidelity. A cheater. She was there, kissing someone else, and I was here, waiting for my soul to tear out of my body. She cheated on me. She betrayed me. She shattered me beyond repair. I loved her with everything I had. I gave her my all. I trusted her with my whole heart—and she slaughtered that trust so brutally. She crushed my soul. And she wasn’t anyone else but… my love of my life, my Dua. I stumbled back, eyes glued to them. She was so lost in him she didn’t even feel my presence. Taking a ragged breath, I turned away—unable to look at them for even another second. Stumbling, I stepped into the apartment. “Momin,” Maham called. Seeing me, she ran toward me and stood before me, concern written all over her face. I collapsed to the floor, too weak to stand. My breathing grew heavy; my vision blurred with tears. She sat beside me and cupped my face, forcing me to meet her eyes. My tears spilled. “What happened?” she asked, voice trembling with worry. “She broke me! She broke my trust! You were right, Maham—she cheated on me!” Maham’s eyes widened. “What are you saying? What did you see—” I cut her off. “I saw her! I saw her kissing him! I saw her cheating on me with my own eyes! She is a cheater! She cheated on me! She broke me!” I cried. Maham pulled me close, rubbing my back, trying to soothe me. “Momin ki dua qubool ho kar bhi adhuri reh gayi! Woh meri ho kar bhi mujhse door hogayi!” (The believer’s supplication was answered but remained incomplete. She became mine yet drifted far from me.) I sobbed into her shoulder. I always called her Momin ki Dua—she was mine, or so I thought. But now I realized she was never Momin ki Dua. She was never mine.

His secret wife

"Mai bhale hi sirf tumhara nahi hun, par tum sirf meri ho. SIRF. MERI. Mrs. Isha Arshad Malik." (I may not belong only to you, but you belong only to me. ONLY. MINE. Mrs. Isha Arshad Malik.) ★★★★ "What happened to you?" I asked, and she looked away from me. "No… nothing," she stuttered, but I could tell she had been crying. "You were crying?" I asked, more as a statement than a question, and she shook her head. "Isha… if you’re upset because of what you saw this morning, then you sho… shouldn’t be," I said, stuttering at the end. "I shouldn’t be?" she asked innocently, and her eyes immediately filled with tears. "She is my wife, Isha," I reasoned, and she gave me a sad smile. "So am I," she whispered. A tear slipped down her cheek as she turned to the other side, leaving me frozen in place. In these two years, this was the first time Isha ever said that she was my wife. Even I never acknowledged her as such. We had hidden this from everyone. We never behaved like husband and wife, nor did we ever demand our rights from each other. So, hearing Isha finally mention that she was my wife stirred something in my heart—something I had never felt for her before. It made me realize that I was standing here with my second secret wife. ******** Isha Abdullah—a beautiful 17-year-old girl. She lived in a small village, a place where girls were treated like trash. She lost her mother at birth. Her father remarried, hoping to give his daughter a mother’s love. But fate gave her a stepmother who was nothing less than a witch in disguise. She lost her father at the age of 12, and after that, her stepmother turned her life into a living hell. Arshad Malik—a handsome and kind 25-year-old man. A happily married man. He loved his wife dearly, the woman who had been his college sweetheart. He married her at 23 and lived with her in Dubai because of his business. They both returned to their hometown for some work—but that unexpected visit led Arshad to marry Isha. So, how did they get married? And how will they hide their marriage from the world? ★★★

Blind by love

“This is Rumaan’s child,” I heard Mama say. I didn’t look up at her. I kept my head lowered because I didn’t have the courage to face her. “This is not my child,” he said abruptly. I looked at him with wide eyes. I was beyond shocked. What did he just say? Did I hear him right? No… he couldn’t have said that. How could he? But as he looked away from me, my heartbeat stopped, my breath hitched. And that’s where he broke me completely. “HOW DARE YOU, RUMAAN!” Mama yelled and slapped him. “Mama…” he was shocked that his own mother had slapped him. “Don’t call me Mama!” she shouted, and was about to hit him again, but I stopped her. “No, Mama,” I said softly, and they all turned to me. I slowly got up and stood in front of them. “He’s right… this is not his child.” I put my hand on my stomach and spoke with tears welling in my eyes. But I didn’t let them fall in front of him—the man I had loved with all my being—because now I was tired. Tired of crying for his love. I had been blind… blind in love, but not anymore. Everyone stared at me in shock. Even Rumaan couldn’t believe what I had just said. ★★★ Hana Rafeeq Mirza — a beautiful, innocent, kind-hearted 20-year-old girl. Everyone loved, cared for, and respected her. Everyone… except the one she loved since childhood, her cousin, the love of her life. He neither loved her nor respected her. Rumaan Ahmed Mirza — a hot, handsome flirt, 23 years old. Famous as a playboy in America. He never valued the things he got easily… and that’s what Hana was to him. Too easy. And he just wanted to get rid of her at any cost. He knew Hana was crazy for him—that’s why he always took advantage of her. Will Rumaan ever realize his mistakes? Or… when he finally does, will it already be too late? 💔 Want to know? Yes? Then join their journey with me…

His secret wife

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Love Angel

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Aina. [Ek galti. Ek muafi]

Love Angel

Momin ki Dua.

Love Angel

His secret wife

Love Angel

Blind by love

Love Angel

Blind by love

Love Angel