WIP Previously Known as Niharika: The game of Lies
wittywrits's stories, at your fingertips as soon as they are published
WIP Previously Known as Niharika: The game of Lies
Experience stories by wittywrits in a whole new light
Pick up stories where you left off and discover new stories
Support Me
๐๐๐ข๐ง๐ญ๐๐ซ๐ ๐ฑ ๐๐ค๐๐ง๐ฌ๐ก ๐๐ก๐ก๐ก... ๐๐ก๐'๐ฌ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐ฌ๐๐๐ซ๐๐ญ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ ๐ฐ๐๐ซ๐ ๐ง๐๐ฏ๐๐ซ ๐ฆ๐๐๐ง๐ญ ๐ญ๐จ ๐๐ข๐ง๐. โง.* ๐๐๐ซ๐ค ๐๐จ๐ฆ๐๐ง๐๐ ๐๐ก๐ซ๐ข๐ฅ๐ฅ๐๐ซ โง.* Five families, bound by blood and stained by secrets. Eight lives, trapped in the shadows of a past that refuses to stay buried. Four couples, tangled in a deadly game of obsession, betrayal, and love twisted beyond recognition. But the truth is rising, clawing its way from the grave, and when it surfaces, it will leave nothing but ruin in its wake. The lies they've built their lives on will crack, and with it, their world. Some will kill to keep the truth hidden. Others will die trying to uncover it. But none of them are ready for what's coming. Unveil the deadliest secrets in ๐๐ก๐ ๐๐๐ข๐ฅ. What lurks behind it is too dangerous to escape.
โง.* ๐๐จ๐จ๐ค ๐๐ง๐ ๐จ๐ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐๐๐ซ๐ค ๐๐จ๐ฐ๐ฌ ๐๐๐ซ๐ข๐๐ฌ โง.* For three years, Saisha Roy had been receiving mysterious recordings. Therapy sessions of a stranger. A man consumed by obsession, his voice dripping with madness as he spiraled deeper into his own darkness. She called him Mr. Psycho. It was harmless. Just recordings. Just a voice from a country far across the world. Until the last one arrived. Until she realized they were meant for her. And the man behind them was not just some voice lost in the dark. He was Rayan Martรญnez. A powerful businessman. Unhinged. Destructive. A man who had spent three years searching for someone, his obsession so consuming that therapy was the only thing keeping him from losing control. And now, he had found her. She swore to kill him before he could take everything from her. But fate had other plans. The only person who promised to help her destroy him was the man she had saved. A stranger with no past. No memories. Yet, every time she looked into his emerald-green eyes and heard his deep voice, she was dragged back to those recordings. The way he spoke. The way his words wrapped around her like a noose. It was too familiar. Had she saved a stranger or unknowingly let the devil himself into her home?
๐๐ซ๐ข๐ฌ๐ก๐ ๐ฑ ๐๐ฏ๐๐ง ๐๐๐ซ ๐ซ๐๐๐๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ข๐จ๐ง ๐ฐ๐๐ฌ ๐ญ๐ก๐ซ๐ข๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ข๐ง๐ ; ๐ก๐๐ซ ๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ซ๐ซ๐๐ง๐๐๐ซ ๐ฐ๐จ๐ฎ๐ฅ๐ ๐๐ ๐๐ข๐ฏ๐ข๐ง๐! โง.* ๐๐จ๐จ๐ค ๐ ๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ ๐จ๐ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐๐๐ซ๐ค ๐๐จ๐ฐ๐ฌ ๐๐๐ซ๐ข๐๐ฌ โง.* WIP
๐๐ฌ๐ก๐๐ง๐ข ๐ฑ ๐๐ซ๐ข๐ฌ๐ญ๐ข๐๐ง๐จ ๐๐ ๐ก๐ ๐๐จ๐ฎ๐ฅ๐๐ง'๐ญ ๐ก๐จ๐ฅ๐ ๐ก๐๐ซ ๐ก๐๐ง๐, ๐ก๐'๐ ๐ก๐จ๐ฅ๐ ๐ก๐๐ซ ๐๐ฒ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐ญ๐ก๐ซ๐จ๐๐ญ! โง.* ๐๐จ๐จ๐ค ๐๐ก๐ซ๐๐ ๐จ๐ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐๐๐ซ๐ค ๐๐จ๐ฐ๐ฌ ๐๐๐ซ๐ข๐๐ฌ โง.* WIP
๐๐ฒ๐ซ๐ ๐ฑ ๐๐๐ซ๐ข๐๐ง ๐๐๐ซ ๐ญ๐๐๐ซ๐ฌ ๐ญ๐๐ฌ๐ญ๐๐ ๐ฌ๐ฐ๐๐๐ญ๐๐ซ ๐ญ๐ก๐๐ง ๐ก๐๐ซ ๐ค๐ข๐ฌ๐ฌ๐๐ฌ! โง.* ๐๐จ๐จ๐ค ๐๐ฐ๐จ ๐จ๐ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐๐๐ซ๐ค ๐๐จ๐ฐ๐ฌ ๐๐๐ซ๐ข๐๐ฌ โง.* WIP
Write a comment ...