Indian Dream Catcher Tattoo

“I still don’t understand how Dad fell for my Mom. I mean she is Indian and he is Australian. How did he?” I asked him tapping my chin. “That’s the specialty of Indian women. Anyone can fall in love with them.” He replied shrugging like it is the silliest question. “Do only Indian women have that specialty or even men?” I asked raising my eyebrow. “Of course!” he replied pulling me to him. “But I am unable to see anything special in you though.” I mumbled to which he narrowed his eyes. “Then the problem must be in you.” He mumbled back with a strong glare. “Ouch! Anyway, do you have the specialty you are saying to deserve me?” I asked him smirking. “What?” he asked with shocked face. I laughed before pushing him away and rushed towards the main gate thinking he will just catch me. However, I turned around and asked him “Do you?” with a serious tone this time. ------------------- A girl who wishes that the people with whom she stays must deserve her but not because she wants to feel arrogant or superior. It is just so that she can get assurance that she will not get hurt by them. She will not settle for anything less no matter what…

How far can you go resisting the attraction you have for your roommate? Especially when he is hot as hell, And you are the conservative girl from a different culture, which he finds amusing as hell every single day. Ridhi D'Souza, a 22 year old Indian girl decides to move to Arlington, Texas to do her Masters. A girl whose only dream was to live in US, hoping that life abroad would be just like how she had seen in the Netflix series and movies. How wrong could she be? Ray Anderson is every girl's worst nightmare. Being sinfully hot and brutally mean are his speciality. But what is he hiding behind his tough exterior? What would happen if these two totally different people have no choice but to live together? Would she even last a day being his roommate? Read more to find out how exciting, thrilling and difficult life becomes for Ridhi, a girl who has no idea what the future holds for her in this strange city.

Albert Roosevelt was the crush I was never meant to have. Like an idiot, I believed loving someone meant giving them everything, even if they didn't care about you. So, I trailed after him like a desperate puppy, bending over backward to meet his every whim. When he couldn't afford tuition, I begged Dad to fund him, sending him to the best schools. When his worn-out clothes made him a laughingstock, I pitied him and showered him with designer labels. And what did he do? He used what I gave him to chase after a gold-digging campus belle. To keep up appearances, he blew through money like it grew on trees. He even spread rumors that he was the real heir to the Roosevelts. To him, I was just an ATM. "Your family's loaded. It's not like you'll miss a few hundred grand. If you're gonna be stingy, maybe you should stop following me around," he said when his wallet ran dry. And like a fool, I believed that if I kept paying, someday, he'd love me back. After graduation, I funded his startup. The second it took off, he married the campus belle. He had the nerve to claim he earned everything through nothing but hard work. So, I crashed his wedding, and he buried a knife in my chest. "Only when you're dead, Eve Roosevelt. Only then will my pathetic past stay buried." When I opened my eyes again, I was face-to-face with a scowling Albert. "You can't scrape together a few hundred thousand dollars? It's Bianca's birthday. Are you trying to humiliate me?" I looked around the room and rolled my eyes. "Sure, I'll pay. But first? Kneel. You look pretty enough. Consider it charity, peasant."

I loved Clara deeply. When she was in danger, I didn't hesitate to save her, even at the cost of my own life. The incident left both my legs broken and confined me to a wheelchair, but she promised we'd marry once she passed her medical boards. To help her focus on her studies, I worked tirelessly, wheeling myself around day and night to make ends meet. But behind my back, she rekindled her relationship with Caleb Carter, her childhood sweetheart. One day, I found her in his arms, laughing and happy. I confronted her, demanding to know why she'd betrayed me. She responded by shoving me to the ground, treating me like I was worthless. Then she pulled a scalpel from her medical bag, her hands steady as she held it over my chest. "Caleb needs a heart transplant to live," she said. "Please, help me one last time."

Being forged from the trauma that clings to your soul like an additional layer of sin has an elegance to it. When my father and I buried my sister, falling in love with her first love wasn't on the agenda. Don Alessandro Valentino has something I want. Something he refuses to depart with and no matter how much pain he inflicts upon me, I will never give up. I vowed to never let him win. I thought I had escaped his grasp, but his torment had only just begun. Despite everything, he still held the power to manipulate my heart and make me crave to be possessed by him. As secrets come to light and the truth is exposed, can I surrender the battle and surrender what I've been fighting for all along, without hesitation? --- He tore his lips away from mine, peering down at me, brushing the pad of his thumb along his lower lip—smearing my touch as far as it would travel. “You taste like mine.” He said in a cold and condescending tone. Then he left. He walked out of the wine cellar without a second glance over his shoulder as Riccardo locked the door behind them.

She. Is. Mine. From the moment our souls collided, my heart belonged to her. Mia Kincaid's fate was sealed to me in blood to end a fued that had my parents murdered. I wanted to ruin her, but my heart wouldn't allow it after she lost everyone she loved under my roof and protection. Now, I want nothing more than to own her. Body, soul, heart, and every defiant breath she takes. I. Want. To. Hate. Him. But my heart won't allow it. Quenten Yilmaz took me to spare my brothers life. I thought he wanted to ruin and humiliate me, but things changed between us when I was left fighting for my life. He refuses to leave my side and insists on trying to help mend my broken heart. The worst part? It might be the only way for me to survive.

After the plane crash, my body was never recovered. My soul drifted back to the home I hadn't stepped foot in for five years. They didn't know I was dead. They were still waiting for me to come home for Christmas. When my mom got the call from the airline, she froze for a long time, completely at a loss, before breaking down in tears. I followed them as they went to the memorial crash site. That was when I noticed something strange—I could see their levels of regret hovering above their heads. My brother's regret level read: 40%. My father's showed: 60%. Even my sister-in-law had 30% over her head. But my mother's regret level? It flashed a cold, unchanging 0%.

I asked my husband for a divorce during the most difficult year of his life. Everyone condemned me, calling me heartless, but I still forced him to sign the divorce papers. Later, he overcame his struggles and rose to become a powerful CEO. I avoided him for two years, believing I’d never cross paths with him again—until he caught me at my most wretched. His eyes brimmed with hatred as he stared at me. In front of everyone, he humiliated me and relentlessly forced me to down a bottle of vodka. I vomited uncontrollably, blood gushing from my mouth in thick streams. He mocked me, telling me it was the retribution I deserved for betraying him. I didn’t argue. I let him torment me. After all, I was already dying. If that made him content, so be it.

Brody Lewis, my fiance, said that I had a rare form of transient global amnesia, which was a sudden, temporary memory loss. Every seven days, I would open my eyes and become the twenty-five-year-old Riley Taylor again. My memories were forever stuck in the past. In my pen drive were videos of Brody taking me on trips, bringing me for treatment, and proposing to me. Everything seemed great between us, but I remembered none of it. “Riley’s still around. Can’t you keep your hands to yourself?” “Don’t worry. It’s Monday tomorrow. After she wakes up, she’ll remember none of it,” Brody said, and my heart sank. “Isn’t this more exciting?” Brody embraced my best friend, and they made out brazenly in front of me. They were not shy about it at all. I wondered just how many times this had happened over the past two years. I ran as tears blurred my vision. When I arrived at a tattoo shop, I grabbed the tattoo artist like a drowning man holding on to a log. Then, I asked the tattoo artist to tattoo these words on my arm in my handwriting. [Leave him.]

Collection of short stories to take you to another world of imagination. This collection contains Love, drama, tragedy, emotions, and of course, lots of romance to fulfill all your cravings for stories. Based in the typical household of Indian Muslims.