The chandeliers in the Mehra estate glittered like constellations that night, casting golden light over silk sarees, champagne glasses, and carefully measured smiles. It was the kind of evening that looked perfect in photographs — elegant, timeless, "dream-like."
It was the night the world learned of Ananya Mehra's engagement.
She stood beside Arav Raghavan, heir to one of the largest private banking groups in Asia. Their families had planned this union long before either of them had learned to choose their own wishes. Two last names, two dynasties, tied with diamonds and legacy.
Arav's smile was practiced — polite, sophisticated, designed for cameras.Ananya's matched his — graceful, flawless, and unreadable.
Her father spoke proudly before a crowd of business magnates and social elites.
"My daughter will have the life she deserves. This marriage marks a future built on trust, respect, and strength."
Ananya lowered her gaze.She loved her father — deeply, unconditionally.He had built everything with his bare hands.He had protected her, raised her to stand tall, given her the world.
So when he asked her, gently but firmly,"Will you marry him?"
She said yes.
Not because she was in love.Not because she dreamed of grand romance.But because she believed in him.And she believed that he would never choose wrong for her.
The wedding date was set for six weeks later. The planning began immediately — fittings, menus, guests, press appearances, rehearsals. Her days blurred into silk, gold, and expectations.
So when her university friends suggested a bachelorette trip — away from reporters, away from planners, away from being the perfect Mehra daughter — she didn't hesitate.
"Kuala Lumpur. Just us. One night like old times."
And her father, in his quiet way of loving her, arranged the jet himself.
Ananya told herself it would just be one night.One night to be Ananya the girl, not Ananya the bride-to-be.One night to breathe.
City of Lights, Shadows of Night
The Kuala Lumpur skyline glittered like a crown of diamonds against the black velvet sky. Towers rose like silent guardians, neon lights pulsed through the streets, and music from rooftop lounges spilled into the warm humid air. It was a city that hid stories well.
Ananya stepped out of the limousine, her heels clicking against the polished entrance of Club Aurelia — the kind of place where the wealthy didn't need to wait in line.
Tonight wasn't for cameras.Tonight was for laughter.
Her friends — Malaysian, Indian, Singaporean — rushed her with squeals and tight hugs. A year had passed since their graduation, and life had pulled them into different worlds. But here, under loud lights and louder music, they were simply them again.
They danced like they were trying to hold onto time with their bare hands.They drank like tomorrow was something far away.Song after song.Smile after smile.Shot after shot.
Until the world tilted.
Eventually, they spilled out of the club just before dawn — barefoot, eyeliner smudged, still laughing softly at nothing and everything.
They headed toward the parking area behind the building, arms linked, voices slurred, the world still spinning.
That was when the shadows moved.
A group of men stepped out from the alley. Slow. Deliberate. Eyes sharp. The smell of cigarettes clung to them like smoke clings to memory.
"Phone, bag, watch. Hand it over," one said flatly.
Her friends froze.
Then someone screamed.
And they ran.
Not toward Ananya.
Away from her.
Hands grabbed her shoulder, her wrist, her bag.
"Let go—!" her voice cracked, thin, trembling.
One of the men leaned close, breath sour, eyes dark."What's the rush, princess? You came to have fun, didn't you?"
Something in her snapped into clarity.
She kicked.
Hard.
Pain exploded through his groan as he doubled over. The others cursed — reaching, grabbing — but Ananya was already moving.
She ran.
Heels gone.Feet bare.Dress snagging, tearing.Breath burning like fire.Vision blurring.
Streetlights stretched into long streaks of gold. Closed shop windows reflected her like ghosts watching silently. The city that shimmered hours ago now felt cold — unfamiliar — terrifying.
She didn't look back.She didn't need to.She could hear them.
Footsteps.Shouts.The hunt.
Her mind screamed one word:
Run.
She pushed her body past its limits — past pain — past reason — until her knees nearly buckled.
Then she saw it.
A car parked along the roadside. Engine running. Headlights on.
Like someone had just stepped away from it.
She stumbled toward it, palms hitting the hood for balance. Her breath shook, coming in broken gasps. Her hair clung to her face. Her heart hammered so loud it hurt.
She forced her voice out. Barely a whisper.
"Help… please…""Help… please…"
Her trembling hand pressed against the cool metal of the car door. The engine hummed. The street was silent. Her heartbeat was not.
Then — the window slowly lowered.
Ananya lifted her eyes.
Her life — her future — her story — was no longer the one she had agreed to.
And whatever waited on the other side of that glass…was about to change everything...