All Chapters of DEVIL’s GRIP: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

The boutique was filled with satin, sequins, and murmurs of celebration. The assistants flitted about like bees around flowers, each one eager to please the bride-to-be. Mia stood before the mirror in a pale champagne-colored lehenga, its embroidered edges catching the light like shards of glass. Hema sat nearby on an ottoman, her face pale, her eyes hollow. She watched Mia with a distant calm, like someone observing the world for the last time.“You don’t like it?” Mia asked, eyeing Hema through the reflection.“It’s beautiful,” Hema said softly, offering a faint smile. “You’ll look like a dream.”Mia narrowed her eyes. “Don’t flatter me like that, Hema”There was a pause in the air—thick, loaded. Mia turned toward her slowly.“So, when are you planning to revenge Zayden?”Hema looked up. Her voice was flat, almost rehearsed. “After your wedding. I’m planning to die.”The words were sharp, spoken as calmly as if she were discussing weather. The silence that followed was deafening. Ev

It was supposed to be the most extravagant day of their lives.The grand ZN mansion was lit up like a kingdom from a dream. Glittering chandeliers swayed softly above golden drapes, and the aroma of exotic flowers filled the halls. High-profile guests, business tycoons, and media elites buzzed about the engagement of Mia Zayden, CEO of ZN, to Mike, her charming business partner. Everything was perfect. Except… Hema was missing.Zayden adjusted the cuffs of his blazer , staring into the mirror. He was waiting—restless.“Where is she?” he muttered under his breath. “She should have been here by now.”Turning around, he found Mia fixing the folds of her lehenga, the crimson red heavy with embroidery. She looked up at him, seemingly calm, even offering a gentle smile. “She said she went up to pick a thread,” Mia said softly, “something about her dress tearing a little.”Zayden gave a small nod. Hema had been living with him for six months now—her quiet demeanor, her calm, obedient aura… h

In the tranquil coastal village of Kovalam, nestled along the southern shores of India, Hema sought solace and anonymity. The village, renowned for its crescent-shaped beaches and swaying coconut palms, was a stark contrast to the tumultuous life she had left behind. The rhythmic cadence of the waves and the distant chimes of temple bells provided a soothing backdrop to her days, allowing her moments of peace amidst the storm of emotions within.A New BeginningUpon her arrival, Hema rented a modest, whitewashed cottage perched on a gentle hill overlooking the Arabian Sea. The cottage, with its terracotta-tiled roof and blue wooden shutters, exuded a rustic charm. A small veranda adorned with potted jasmine plants became her favorite spot, where she would sit for hours, feeling the sea breeze and listening to the distant calls of fishermen.The villagers, with their warm smiles and simple lives, welcomed her without prying into her past. To them, she was Aaradhya, a young widow seekin

Zayden sat on the edge of his king-sized bed, the fabric of Hema’s dupatta clenched tightly in his fist, the scent of jasmine long faded but hauntingly familiar. His unkempt hair fell over his eyes, and the stubble on his jaw was days old, maybe weeks — time was a blur now. Sunlight barely filtered through the thick curtains of his massive bedroom, casting long shadows across the floor strewn with empty whiskey bottles and shattered glass.He dragged himself off the bed and stumbled across the room, stepping over a broken photo frame. The picture inside, once a perfect memory of Hema smiling beside him at a beach house, was now scratched, bloodied by shattered edges. Zayden barely blinked.His foot accidentally knocked over an ornate wooden box — the one he had custom-designed for Hema’s VR headset. It hit the floor with a dull thud and lay there wide open. Empty.He froze.The haze that had dulled his senses for weeks suddenly lifted, as though a cold gust had slapped him in the face

Mia, his fierce and calculating sister, had just revealed a truth that none could have foreseen: Hema was alive. For a heartbeat, grief had shrouded them both in desolation. Then, in a sudden and startling change, Zayden, with an intensity that seemed almost otherworldly, rose from his bed.He stood up so abruptly that all the intravenous lines and ECG leads were yanked from his arms and chest. His sheet, hastily cast aside, pooled around his legs like tattered remnants of what used to be comfort. Clad in nothing but his hospital gown and a heavy shirt hastily pulled on over his emaciated frame, he now towered over the bed as if reclaiming a throne. His eyes burned with a mix of anger and bewilderment, and the transformation was so dramatic that those present couldn’t decide whether to applaud or recoil in horror.Mia, who had been sitting rigidly beside the bedside, still trembling from her earlier despair, could barely believe her eyes. Just minutes ago, she had been weeping inconso