The night was still, almost eerily calm, as if holding its breath — knowing who walked beneath its sky.

Eshank Rai Singhania, 6 feet 4 inches of raw danger, stepped out of the black SUV and shut the door without a sound. The moonlight hit the crimson stains on his shirt, the splashes of blood still fresh, trailing like art on expensive fabric. King of the Dark.

His jaw was sharp, expression unreadable. Another soul added to his list tonight — a man foolish enough to even think about hurting her.

His Avleen.

Of course, she didn’t know. She wasn’t supposed to know. He had made sure of that. But the thought of anyone even looking at his wife with dirty intent was enough to flip the switch inside him.

And now, with blood on his shirt and a darkness in his eyes, Eshank took the long route, slipping around the mansion’s back door, his steps soundless on the gravel path.

He muttered under his breath.

“Meri biwi ne agar dekh liya mujhe iss halat mein... toh meri toh aaj akhri raat hogi.”

(If my wife saw me in this condition... then today will be my last night)

He pushed the door open, stepping inside with practiced silence.

But there she was.

Avleen Kaur Grewal— 5’4” of pure fire and absolute command — standing there in his black shirt which reached up to her thighs, arms crossed, one eyebrow cocked, and her sharp gaze scanning him from head to toe. Queen of the Fire.

Uh oh.

Eshank froze in place like a caught schoolboy.

“Eshank...” Her voice sliced through the air like a whip. ”Mere ghar mein yeh khoon-voon laga ke mat aaya karo khud ko... andar nahi aane dungi tumhe.”

(Don’t come to my house with all that blood on your face. I won’t let you in.)

He raised both palms in mock surrender, trying not to grin.

“Mon ange, mon amour...” he said smoothly, voice drenched in honey and mischief. ”How will I ever change then? Let me enter, your lovely husband is starving.”

(My Angel, My love.)

"Wait, patidev,” Avleen replied sweetly —too sweetly.

(Wait, Husband)

That smirk.

Eshank’s smile dropped slightly. ”Aaj toh pata nahi kya karegi meri biwi...” he muttered under his breath.

(I don’t know what my wife will do today... )

A second later, she stepped to the side and came back with a bucket full of water.

"Avleen—”

SPLASH.

She threw the entire thing at him, soaking him from head to toe. The blood mixed with water and trailed down his expensive shoes, pooling at the door.

"Avleen!” he blinked, water dripping off his lashes.

She stood there, unfazed, arms crossed again.

"Shirt utaaro.”

(Take off your shirt)

He raised a brow, lips curving. ”Mon ange, if you wanted to see your husband’s body, you didn’t have to work so hard, hmm?”

(My Angel)

Her cheeks flushed instantly. ”Shut up, Eshank! Kuch bhi bolte ho aap! Shirt do. Abhi.”

(Shut up, Eshank! You say anything! Give me the shirt. Now.)

Eshank let out a low chuckle, unbuttoning his shirt —slowly. Deliberately. Torturously.

Her eyes were glued to him, trying hard not to stare — and failing miserably.

He peeled off the wet, bloodstained shirt, muscles flexing, droplets sliding down his abs.

Avleen swallowed.

Eshank noticed. Oh, he noticed.

He handed the shirt to her with a smirk. ”Careful, mon amour. Looking too much at your husband may cause... temptation.”

"Bas karo!” she snapped, yanking the shirt and marching over to the steel bin at the corner. She dropped it inside and struck a match.

(Stop it)

The shirt sizzled and burned.

"I don’t like it when you smell like blood,” she said softly, turning back to him. ”It’s not who you are to me. Now go and take a shower.”

But Eshank wasn’t done.

In one swift move, he pulled her closer by the waist. She gasped, her palms catching herself on his bare, solid chest, still damp from the water.

Their faces were inches apart. His dark eyes locked on hers.

“Baby,” he murmured in a low drawl. ”Wanna join me in the shower? Promise I’ll behave... well, mostly.”

She turned crimson. ”Eshank...” she tried to scold him.

He grinned. ”Kya karun... meri biwi itni sundar hai. Control nahi hota.”

(What should I do... my wife is so beautiful. I can’t control myself)

She shook her head, smiling despite herself. ”Jaaiye... warna aapko bhi jala dungi.”

(Go... or else I will burn you too.)

He kissed her forehead gently, whispering, ”You won’t. You love me too much.”

And with that, the King of the Dark Universe turned and walked away, shirtless, powerful, and utterly, irrevocably owned by his Queen.

And behind him, Avleen stood watching — heart pounding, face burning, and lips curved with a secret smile.

Because only she knew how to tame the devil.

For further, read the story. I hope this prologue is captivating enough for you to give this story a chance.

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