Twisted

They say love is the most beautiful thing a person can feel. It mends broken pieces and brings meaning to the chaos of life. But in my world, love doesn’t heal. It corrupts. It destroys. It twists into something sharp enough to cut deeper than hate ever could.

I was born into a family built on power, secrets, and war. My bloodline is my curse. It binds me to generations of feuds, betrayals, and lies. From the moment I could walk, I learned the rules: never show weakness, never trust the enemy, and never, under any circumstance, love them. Our enemies weren’t just rivals; they were monsters in human skin, responsible for every scar that marked our history. At least, that’s what I was taught.

But life has a cruel sense of irony. The heart doesn’t recognize rules, and love doesn’t respect bloodlines. I wish I could say I was strong enough to resist it, that I listened to the warnings whispered like prayers in my house. But I wasn’t. I was reckless. I was hungry for something different, something real in a world that had given me nothing but shadows. In that hunger, I made the most dangerous mistake of all: I let myself fall for the enemy.

It wasn’t supposed to happen. It started with glances stolen in places we shouldn’t have been. Words spoken in the dark, where no one could hear. There was fire in every silence, tension in every breath we shared. And before I even realized it, I was no longer on safe ground—I was drowning in a storm I had no hope of surviving.

Love should have felt like salvation. But with us, it felt like war. Every kiss carried the weight of betrayal. Every touch was a blade pressed against my throat. I couldn’t decide if we were bound together by fate or if we were simply cursed, two souls doomed to repeat the same mistake that countless others had paid for with their lives.

In my family, love isn’t a gift. It’s a battlefield. It tears you apart piece by piece, forcing you to choose between blood and desire, loyalty and freedom. And when the lines blur, when the world twists in ways you never expected, you realize the truth: there are no right choices. Only sacrifices.

I know how this story sounds. You expect a fairytale, where forbidden love conquers all and hatred melts away in the face of passion. But this is no fairytale. This is a curse written in blood, a story of hearts chained to the wrong people, of families so steeped in vengeance that love becomes the deadliest weapon of all.

So understand this before you step further into my world: no one is innocent here. Not me. Not them. Not the ones who raised us, nor the ones we swore to hate. Everyone carries blood on their hands. Everyone has secrets that could shatter us. And the closer I get to him—the enemy I should have destroyed long ago—the more I realize that love isn’t going to save us. It’s going to destroy us.

This is not just a story about love. It’s a story about war—between families, between generations, between the light we crave and the darkness we can’t escape. It’s also about family—the kind that binds you, suffocates you, and sometimes betrays you in the cruelest ways imaginable.

So if you’re looking for happy endings, close this book now. Because once you step into my world, there’s no way out.

This is my story.

This is our curse.

This is Twisted.