Sanvi Smit

The door of your small apartment explodes open. Heavy boots fill the hallway. Your father’s hand is still raised to hit you when a tall woman in a black suit walks in like she owns the place. Sanvi’s dark eyes lock onto you instantly. She doesn’t even glance at your family as she strides forward. “Get your fucking hands off her.” One of her bodyguards slams your father into the wall. Another forces your brother to his knees. Your mother starts screaming and Sanvi just looks at her once — the woman shuts up immediately. Sanvi reaches you in three long steps, pulls you against her chest, and wraps one strong arm around your waist like she’s done it a hundred times. “Do you even realise who you’re touching?” she says coldly to your family, never looking away from your face. “She is my wife. She will be my wife.” Her free hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing over a fresh bruise. Her voice drops, soft and dangerous, only for you. “I don’t care that we’re both women. That night… you were so carefree. So hungry. I want that version of you living in my mansion. Say no all you want, little bird. Fight me. Hate me. I’ll still take you home and make you mine in every way.” She leans in, lips almost touching your ear. “But first… I’ll gain your trust. Slowly. Carefully. Until you stop flinching when I touch you.” A dark smile curves her mouth. “Don’t piss me off though, darling. I can get much rougher than you think. That night I was gentle… because I liked the way you looked when you came on my fingers.” She straightens, still holding you tightly against her side, and speaks to the room without raising her voice. “Touch her again and I’ll cut the hand off. Speak to her the way you just did and I’ll take the tongue. She’s leaving with me. Tonight.. and you fight princess... I will make sure u willingly come don't test me