When I woke up, I found myself in a small room with a single bed, the sheets thin and rough. I blinked groggily, confused by my surroundings. This wasn’t my bedroom. My heart pounded as I sat up, taking in the unfamiliar walls around me. The room was dimly lit, barely furnished with an old wooden dresser and a tiny mirror on the wall. Everything looked plain, almost like something out of another time. Maybe I was dreaming?

I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping when I opened them again, I’d be back home in my cozy apartment. But no luck. When I opened my eyes again, I was still here, in this strange room.

What is happening? I racked my brain, trying to piece together how I’d ended up here. The night before, I’d been on my couch, curled up with snacks, reading my best friend’s Wattpad novel. It was one of those cheesy stories about a rich Indian family with lots of drama. I had rolled my eyes at the ridiculous plotlines, but I kept reading for her sake. I must have dozed off, right?

Just then, the door creaked open, and an old lady bustled in. "Hey, you! Are you still sleeping?" she barked, her hands on her hips. Her sharp eyes bore into me. "You've been working here for a year, and you're still like this! Today’s a big day—there’s going to be a party, and we have so much to do!"

I stared at her, dumbfounded. “Wait, what?”

"You need to wash the dirty dishes in the kitchen and clean the floor," she continued, not even waiting for a response. "The Rajputs are expecting everything to be perfect today."

The name Rajput made my stomach drop. That couldn’t be right. Rajput was the surname of the wealthy family in my best friend’s novel. But this couldn’t be…

“Excuse me?” I blurted out. “What are you talking about? I don’t—”

The old lady gave me a look like I had lost my mind. “What do you mean, what am I talking about? You’re a servant here! Have you gone mad?” She waved her hand impatiently, clearly done with my confusion. “Now hurry up! We don’t have all day.” And with that, she turned on her heel and left, the door slamming behind her.

I stood there, frozen. A servant? What the hell was going on?

Still feeling like I was trapped in some bizarre dream, I stumbled into what looked like a tiny bathroom attached to the room. I needed to splash some water on my face and shake off this weird sense of disorientation. Maybe then I’d wake up. But when I looked into the mirror, the person staring back at me wasn’t quite me.

My face was the same, but my hair—it was black. Long and sleek, nothing like the red streaks I had dyed it a few months ago. And my body—I was skinny. My hands automatically went to my waist, where the extra softness I was used to feeling was…gone. I loved food, and my curves had always been part of me, but now, I looked different. Too different.

What is going on?

I stepped back from the mirror, my heart pounding in my chest. I needed answers. I looked around the bathroom, hoping for some kind of clue, but all I found were old toiletries and a worn towel hanging on a hook. The old lady’s words replayed in my mind: You’re a servant here.

“No,” I whispered to myself, trying to breathe through the panic rising in my throat. “This can’t be happening.”

I stumbled back into the room, my legs feeling weak beneath me. That name—Rajput. I knew it wasn’t just a coincidence. My best friend’s novel had a family named the Rajputs, a rich and powerful family, but there had also been a servant in the story…named Jasmine. My name.

A chill ran down my spine as realization hit me like a ton of bricks. I’m in the novel.

That had to be it. Somehow, I wasn’t just dreaming about the story; I was in it. Living it. And worse than that—I wasn’t even one of the main characters. I was Jasmine. The servant. The same one who was supposed to die early on in the story.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no.

In the book, Jasmine was nothing more than a background character, a servant who overheard a dangerous secret and paid the price for it with her life. She barely lasted a few chapters before she was killed off by one of the villains. Was that my fate now? Was I going to die here too?

I couldn’t let that happen. I wouldn’t let that happen.

I ran a hand through my hair—my new black hair—and tried to calm myself down. I needed to think, to figure out a way to survive this. Okay, so I was a servant. Fine. That didn’t mean I had to follow the plot exactly, right? I could change things. I could stay out of trouble, avoid the main characters, and maybe—just maybe—I could escape my death sentence.

The old lady’s voice echoed in my mind again. The Rajputs were expecting guests, and there was a party today. That meant the story was just getting started. If I remembered correctly, the evil wife—Pari—was the one responsible for causing chaos in the family. She was the one who would eventually betray everyone and destroy their lives. But that was still a little way off. I had time to figure out who she was, stop her, and save myself in the process.

The only problem? I couldn’t remember which of the brothers she married. Was it Abhiraj, the cold and arrogant eldest brother? Or Siddharth, the charming middle one? Maybe it was Ranbir, the youngest, who was quiet and brooding.

I couldn’t take any chances. For now, I’d lay low, do my job as a servant, and try to gather information without drawing too much attention to myself. And, most importantly, I’d avoid getting involved in the family drama as much as possible. I just had to survive.

As I headed toward the door, the old lady’s words lingered in my mind. Do you want to be fired?

Honestly? Yes, yes, I did. But getting fired from this job might be the least of my worries. If I was going to stay alive, I had a feeling that the real danger was only just beginning.

Jasmine stepped out of her small room and into the maze of corridors, trying to make sense of her surroundings. Everything about this place screamed wealth and privilege. The walls were adorned with intricate designs, large oil paintings, and sparkling chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. The air was thick with the scent of flowers and spices, reminding her of a world she did not belong to.

After wandering aimlessly for what felt like an eternity, she finally stumbled upon the kitchen. It was a large, bustling space filled with the clatter of pans and the sizzle of oil. Cooks moved like clockwork, preparing an elaborate breakfast. The kitchen was filled with the delicious aroma of parathas, dosas, pancakes, and scrambled eggs. The variety of food made her stomach growl in protest. Her eyes roamed over the trays of golden parathas and fluffy pancakes. She longed to take just one bite, but she clenched her fists to resist the temptation. She wasn’t part of this world; she was just a servant here.

As the Rajput family gathered for breakfast in the grand dining hall, Jasmine hovered at the back, observing from a distance. They were seated around an elegant long table covered with sparkling china and gleaming silverware. The family looked as perfect as she had imagined from her reading—the three brothers were as handsome as ever, each fitting their distinct personalities she’d read about. Their parents and grandparents sat with them, all of them smiling and engaged in lively conversation.

The eldest brother, Abhiraj Singh Rajput, sat at the head of the table, his expression calm and composed. His dark eyes scanned the room as he gave instructions to the servants with a few quiet words. He was as intimidating in real life as he had been on the page—every bit the serious, no-nonsense man.

Next to him sat Siddharth Singh Rajput, the second brother. He had a more relaxed air about him, his smile wide as he made jokes, causing the others to laugh. His playful nature was a stark contrast to Abhiraj's stern demeanor.

And then there was the youngest, Ranbir Singh Rajput, who sat at the far end of the table with a mischievous grin on his face, his phone in hand. He barely glanced up, but every so often, he would engage with his family, adding a sarcastic comment or teasing his brothers.

They looked like the perfect family, so much so that it almost made Jasmine envious. She watched them in awe, feeling like an outsider in every sense of the word. They had no idea that she knew their future—how their lives would be torn apart by betrayal and heartbreak. It was a surreal feeling, standing there in a scene she had once only read about, now a part of their world but stuck on the fringes.

As the family finished breakfast and dispersed, leaving behind their empty plates and half-eaten meals, Jasmine’s heart sank. Another part of her dreaded the work she’d have to do—cleaning up the mess left behind by the same people who would never notice her existence. Her fingers itched to take a piece of the food that still lay untouched, but she swallowed back the desire and began to clean up, blending into the background just like a servant should.

The day wore on, and by evening, the entire mansion had been transformed for the big event—the Rajput grandparents’ anniversary party. The grand ballroom glittered with fairy lights and lavish decorations. Jasmine marveled at the transformation, though she remained in the shadows, out of sight. Guests arrived in their finest designer outfits, their jewelry sparkling under the chandeliers, and the scent of expensive perfume filled the air. The grandeur of it all made Jasmine feel even smaller.

But tonight wasn’t just about the anniversary. It was also the night when the Rajput family would announce the engagements of the three brothers. That meant the fiancées would be revealed—and one of them was the villain in the story, the woman who would destroy the family. Jasmine scanned the room, her eyes darting from face to face, searching for any sign of malice.

Each of the fiancées was dressed in stunning, elegant gowns, smiling and mingling with the other guests as if they were picture-perfect brides-to-be. None of them looked suspicious, and Jasmine found herself frustrated. How was she supposed to figure out who the villain was before it was too late?

Her stomach growled again, distracting her from her thoughts. All the food, the glittering platters of appetizers and desserts, looked so enticing. It was a cruel reminder that she was still nothing more than a servant here. While everyone else was enjoying the feast, she was left with nothing.

The temptation became too much. When she was sure no one was looking, Jasmine slipped into a corner of the ballroom where the appetizers were laid out, grabbing a piece of food. It was small, just a bite-sized samosa, but she knew she shouldn’t be eating anything meant for the guests. Still, the hunger gnawed at her, and she quickly took a bite, savoring the burst of flavors.

“Oh, this is so good,” she mumbled to herself, momentarily forgetting where she was. For just a second, the taste of the food transported her back to a simpler time, where she wasn’t living in a novel and worrying about her survival.

But her moment of bliss was abruptly cut short by a deep, authoritative voice behind her. “What are you doing, miss?”

Jasmine froze, her heart pounding in her chest. She slowly turned around, her stomach flipping with dread. Standing before her was one of the brothers—Abhiraj Singh Rajput. His sharp eyes were fixed on her, his expression hard and unyielding. He stood tall, his posture rigid as if he were about to reprimand a soldier, not a servant.

Her mind raced, desperately searching for an explanation. She could already feel the heat rising in her cheeks as her eyes darted between him and the half-eaten samosa in her hand. There was no hiding it now. She had been caught red-handed.

“I—I—” she stammered, trying to think of something—anything—to explain herself, but her mind was blank. The cold, authoritative look in his eyes only made her more flustered. How was she going to explain this without getting into trouble?

“You know the rules,” Abhiraj said, his voice low but firm. “The staff doesn’t eat from the guests’ table.”

Jasmine swallowed hard. What am I going to do?

Jasmine froze when she heard the deep voice behind her, her heart hammering against her chest. The room seemed to close in on her as she stood there, a piece of stolen food halfway to her mouth. She didn’t dare turn around right away, her mind racing to come up with some excuse. How could she be so careless? After a moment that felt like an eternity, she swallowed nervously, steeling herself to face whoever had caught her.

Slowly, she turned around, still chewing on the last bite of food. Her eyes widened as she came face-to-face with one of the Rajput brothers. His intense gaze bore into her, his arms crossed over his broad chest. He was tall, with dark, penetrating eyes, and his perfectly tailored suit did little to soften his imposing presence. Jasmine's pulse quickened as she realized who she was dealing with: Abhiraj Singh Rajput, the eldest of the three brothers.

“I was just...” she stammered, frantically trying to think of something. Then, with a burst of false confidence, she raised her chin and blurted out, “I was just testing the food! You know, to make sure it’s not missing anything important. Like... salt.”

Abhiraj’s brow furrowed, his stern expression not wavering. “Testing the food?” he repeated slowly, his tone making it clear he didn’t believe her. He took a step closer, his presence somehow even more intimidating. Jasmine swallowed again, feeling like a mouse caught in the gaze of a very large, very dangerous cat.

“Yes,” she said, her voice wavering slightly. “If something was wrong, I was going to tell the chef about it. I’m... very thorough like that.”

Inwardly, she winced. This was a terrible idea. But she didn’t back down, standing her ground despite the growing urge to run and hide.

For a moment, Abhiraj just stared at her, his eyes narrowing as if he was trying to decide whether to reprimand her or let it slide. Finally, he shook his head slightly, a hint of exasperation crossing his features. Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving Jasmine standing there, her heart still racing.

As soon as he was out of sight, she let out a long breath of relief, her knees nearly buckling from the tension. “That was close,” she muttered to herself, still clutching a small plate of appetizers.

Feeling somewhat victorious for getting out of that situation, Jasmine turned back to the table and grabbed another piece of food. “I’m so smart,” she whispered, allowing herself a small smile. “I should be the main character of this story, not a maid.”

Her moment of triumph was brief, though. She quickly realized how dangerous it was to get caught like that again, especially by someone like Abhiraj. Still, she couldn’t resist the urge to nibble on a few more snacks. Feeling hidden in the corner, she did a little happy dance, swaying from side to side with a grin on her face, completely unaware that she was still being watched.

Unbeknownst to her, someone’s eyes lingered on her from across the room, watching her silly, carefree movements with curiosity. Abhiraj, who had only walked away to avoid causing a scene, had circled back quietly, observing her with a mixture of confusion and amusement.

Later, when the guests had left and the grand ballroom was a mess of crumpled napkins and empty glasses, the servants were called to clean up. The lavish decorations and the lively energy from earlier in the night were gone, replaced by exhaustion and the sound of brooms sweeping across the floor.

Jasmine, armed with a mop, decided that this was the perfect opportunity to gather more information. If she was going to stop the evil fiancée, she needed to know more about the family dynamics—and fast.

As she worked, she spotted a young man nearby, another servant she hadn’t noticed before. He looked fairly new, just like her—or at least, like the version of her that now existed in this world. Deciding to strike up a conversation, she approached him with a friendly smile.

“Hi there!” she said cheerfully, wiping a strand of hair out of her face. “I’m Jasmine. What’s your name?”

The young man looked up from his task, surprised by her approach. He seemed a bit hesitant, but then smiled shyly. “I’m Rohit. I’ve been working here for about six months.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” Jasmine said, nodding. “So, what’s it like working here? The family seems... interesting.”

Rohit glanced around nervously, making sure no one was within earshot. “It’s not bad. The Rajputs are a big deal around here, very traditional. The brothers are getting engaged soon, so it’s been hectic lately. The grandparents are nice, though. Mrs. Kavita, the grandmother, is especially kind to the staff.”

Jasmine’s ears perked up at the mention of the brothers’ engagements. This was exactly what she needed to know. “Oh really? What about the brothers? What are they like?”

Rohit seemed to relax a bit as he continued. “Well, the eldest, Mr. Abhiraj, is very serious. He runs the family business, so he’s always in control, always keeping things in order. Siddharth, the second brother, is more laid-back. He’s always joking around and making people laugh. And the youngest, Ranbir, he’s a bit wild. Doesn’t like to follow rules.”

Jasmine nodded thoughtfully, mentally cataloging everything. She needed to find out more about their fiancées, but asking too many direct questions could make people suspicious. “And what about their fiancées?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

Rohit shrugged. “I don’t know much about them. They’re all pretty, and they come from good families, but they mostly stay quiet around us.”

Jasmine bit her lip in frustration. She was hoping for more clues, but Rohit’s information was surface-level. “Thanks, Rohit,” she said with a smile. “You’ve been really helpful.”

“No problem,” he replied, giving her a quick smile before going back to his work.

As Jasmine returned to her cleaning, she realized just how difficult her mission was going to be. The fiancées all seemed perfect on the outside, and there were no obvious signs of the villain lurking beneath the surface. She would have to be extra careful in her investigation, blending in with the staff and keeping her true intentions hidden.

As she scrubbed the floor, her mind raced with thoughts of how to proceed. She had to stay focused, stay vigilant. There was no room for mistakes. "I have to survive," she thought, gripping the mop tightly. "And I have to stop that evil woman from ruining everything."