Two Years Later, Anesha's Cottage

Anesha's friend Meera stormed into the room, her frustration evident. "Listen, Annie! You are coming with us to the nightclub tonight—no arguments, no excuses. That's final!"

Meera Khanna, Anesha's peer and closest confidante, had been her rock since high school. Their friendship was as steadfast as family, and to their close circle, Anesha was fondly known as "Annie."

Meera's firm tone made worry flicker across Anesha's beautiful, serene face. The thought of a nightclub was the last thing she wanted to entertain.

Pacing the room, she implored, "Meera, please try to understand. I just… I don't feel like going, and you know why. Please, go with Mahi. I can't come with you."

Meera's patience, already stretched thin over the past two years, snapped. Once upon a time, Anesha would reluctantly agree to Meera's spontaneous plans, even to a nightclub visit. But for the last two years, everything had changed. Invitations were met with evasions or outright refusals.

Suppressing her growing irritation, Meera quipped, "Oh, Annie, darling! Tonight, your lame excuses won't work. And for the record, by my calculation, it's been six days since your period started. So don't even try that. Also, I'm not asking you to chug wine or vodka. All I'm asking is for you to show up, keep me company, and sip some… milk! Sorry, I mean juice."

Meera's sarcasm made Anesha purse her lips in helplessness. She sat cross-legged on the bed, her hazel-green eyes soft with quiet resignation.

Unbeknownst to Meera, Anesha's silence held a secret.

Four years ago, Anesha had entered into a contract marriage with Devansh Kapoor to save her younger brother, Manan. At the time, she had told her friends she was moving abroad for Manan's treatment. Two years ago, she returned—but she was no longer the same Anesha they had known.

Gone was the vivacious, cheerful girl they had loved. In her place was someone subdued, haunted, and profoundly changed. The spark in her eyes had dimmed, and the once-radiant smile that lit up every room had vanished. Anesha, who had been the heart of their group, now seemed lost in her own shadows.

Her friends, including Meera, had repeatedly tried to uncover the cause of her sorrow, but she always evaded their questions. Tonight, however, Meera had resolved to take matters into her own hands. She couldn't stand by and watch her best friend crumble any longer. After a heated debate, Meera finally managed to break through Anesha's resistance.

"Fine," Anesha sighed, her voice low and reluctant. "I'll come with you, but only for a little while."

Meera grinned victoriously and leaned in to kiss Anesha's cheek. "Ah, my dearest princess! Even spending a few precious moments with you at the nightclub feels like a blessing."

Anesha managed a faint smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes. After some light conversation, Meera left the cottage. Once inside her car, she dialed her friends and, in a conspiratorial whisper, said, "Get ready, my dear bats. Our Cinderella is stepping out tonight. Whatever it takes, we're finding out what's been haunting her."

"Understood, Your Majesty," came the mock-serious reply from the other end, drawing an exasperated eye-roll from Meera.

Back at the Cottage

Anesha retreated to the washroom to freshen up. Her younger brother, Manan, was at school. Now fourteen years old, Manan was busy preparing for his board exams.

Splashing cold water on her face, Anesha gazed at her reflection in the mirror. For a moment, she stared blankly, her hollow eyes meeting their own. Then, to her horror, her reflection began to smirk—a cold, mocking smile.

"Do you really think you're some kind of savior?" the reflection sneered. "That you're noble for saving your brother's life? That marrying a stranger and bearing his child made you a saint?"

The cruel voice filled the silent room as the reflection let out a bitter laugh.

"No, Anesha Mathur. You're a coward. You saved your brother, yes, but at what cost? What about your child? The one who carries your blood? You always claimed to love your family, to do anything for them. So where were your principles, your morals, your courage when it came to fighting for your own baby? You abandoned them, didn't you?"

Tears welled up in Anesha's hazel-green eyes, cascading down her cheeks as her reflection's words struck like a dagger. The truth she had buried for years now stood glaring back at her. She had saved her brother, but in doing so, she had sacrificed something far greater—her child.

__________________________

What lies ahead for Anesha at the nightclub?

Will her friends uncover the truth?

To know…

To be continued…

"What about her child?"

The question echoed relentlessly in Anaysha's mind, a haunting refrain that refused to fade.

Her pulse quickened, her throat constricted, and her breaths grew shallow as if she were suffocating.

With a sudden, strangled cry, she clamped her hands over her ears,

desperately trying to block out the question,

to escape the memories entwined with it—memories that clawed at her sanity.

Moments stretched into an eternity as she struggled to regain control.

But the weight of it was too much. Her knees buckled,

and she slid down against the cold wall, collapsing into herself.

She buried her face in her knees, and the sobs came,

raw and unrestrained, shaking her small frame with their intensity.

This wasn't new.

Each time her thoughts wandered to the past, to the child she had lost,

her composure would shatter like glass.

She, who was always strong, always resilient,

would find herself utterly powerless.

Anaysha was no stranger to hardship.

Life had tested her time and again,

and she had always risen to the challenge, unwavering and determined.

But this—this was her Achilles' heel.

Four years ago, when her ten-year-old brother Manan's kidneys failed,

time had stopped for her.

The doctors' voices echoed in her ears like a death knell:

he needed immediate treatment, and she had no money, no support.

Her family was gone—

lost in a tragedy shrouded in mystery.

All she had was Manan.

And she was not ready to lose him too.

So, she made a choice.

A choice that no one should have to make.

She entered into a contract marriage,

selling her freedom, her body,

all to save the only family she had left.

But the marriage wasn't the prison she had imagined.

Devansh Kapoor, the man she married,

treated her with respect, gave her every right a wife deserved.

He never crossed boundaries or made her feel trapped.

Yet, no amount of kindness could erase the guilt.

To save her brother, she had sacrificed her unborn child.

Pain, however deeply buried, has a way of surfacing.

After spending nearly two hours in the bathroom,

Anaysha finally emerged, her face pale but composed.

Her gaze flicked to the clock on the wall—it was already four.

Drawing in a steadying breath, she muttered to herself,

"Manan will be back soon.

I haven't even prepared anything for him yet."

Her voice was soft, almost conversational,

as if trying to ground herself in the mundane.

She stepped into the kitchen, her movements efficient yet unhurried.

Though her eyes were still red and swollen,

there was no trace of the storm she had weathered.

She wore her pain like armor, her calm demeanor concealing the chaos within.

After finishing the preparations,

she stepped out into the garden.

The cottage she lived in was modest but exquisite,

a reflection of her determination and hard work.

She had bought it with her own earnings,

refusing to touch the money Devansh had given her.

To her, that money was sacred—

meant solely for Manan's treatment, nothing else.

Sitting cross-legged on the lush grass,

she opened her laptop, intent on catching up on work.

Suddenly, two small arms wrapped around her neck from behind,

and a jubilant voice broke her concentration.

"Didi(Sister), I'm home!"

Anaysha turned, her expression softening as she met Manan's eager eyes.

Running her fingers affectionately through his unruly curls, she asked,

"How was school today?"

Manan beamed, resting his head on her shoulder.

"It was great! Exams are in two months, and soon I'll be grown up and earning lots of money!"

His enthusiasm drew a faint smile to her lips.

Pulling him to sit beside her,

she let them both sprawl across the grass,

their laughter mingling with the gentle rustle of the leaves.

Miles away,

waves crashed against the shore with a ferocity that mirrored their beauty.

The ocean, vast and untamed, seemed to hold its breath.

Amidst its towering waves,

a figure glided effortlessly, defying the sea's power.

"Devansh Kapoor,"

a man of unyielding confidence and unparalleled poise,

maneuvered his water skis with precision.

His chiseled frame, sharp features, and piercing gaze spoke volumes—

a man accustomed to control.

The owner of Extinct Groups of Companies,

a titan in the business world,

Devansh Kapoor was a name that commanded attention.

But even titans have shadows.

______________________

What will happen next?

To know…

To be continued…

The World's Most Powerful and Legendary Business Tycoon…

"Devansh Kapoor."

Standing at an imposing height of 6 feet 6 inches, Devansh Kapoor was the very embodiment of dominance and allure. His muscular physique, carved to perfection, with a broad V-shaped torso and sharply defined abs, made him appear as though sculpted by the gods. Every feature of his body radiated strength and authority.

His sharp jawline and flawless facial symmetry made him a portrait of perfection.

Even as he skated across the tumultuous waves of a raging ocean, his face remained an unreadable mask of calm.

Devansh's charisma was so magnetic that even men found themselves captivated by his presence. Yet, beneath this captivating exterior lay a silent, ominous aura—a predatory intensity, like a lone wolf in the wild.

The ocean, vast and untamable, seemed to bow before Devansh Kapoor. For once, the sea—the epitome of boundless power—appeared subdued, as though humbled by a force far greater.

His dark, penetrating gaze and the suffocating intensity of his aura silenced even the crashing waves. The rising sun, with all its splendor, seemed pale compared to the magnificence of his presence.

For an hour, Devansh toyed with the ocean's fury before disappearing into its depths.

When he reemerged two hours later, he was an arresting sight. Droplets of water clung to his damp, tousled hair, cascading down his rugged face and sculpted body. His black shorts clung to his powerful frame, accentuating every muscle. He was breathtaking, a vision of raw, untamed power.

The waves that had raged against him earlier now lay docile, as if defeated.

Devansh turned toward the sea, his cold black eyes gleaming with a dangerous glint. With a smirk curling his lips, he whispered:

"Wait for me, Baby. Your ex-husband is coming back..."

In the Cottage…

At the dining table, Anaysha served food to her younger brother, Manan. "I'm heading out with Meera to the nightclub tonight. I'll be late, so make sure you eat dinner on time and don't stay up too late," she instructed.

Manan frowned. "Di, what kind of sister are you? All my friends complain that their sisters scold them for not studying. You're the opposite—you keep telling me to study less!"

Anaysha chuckled at his complaint. Seated at the table with his chemistry book open, Manan was immersed in memorizing the periodic table.

His relentless obsession with studying often worried her. She gently snatched the book from his hands.

"Di(Sister), this is so unfair!" Manan protested, pouting.

"Sweetheart, I know what's fair. Now focus on your dinner instead of your studies," she replied with mock sternness.

Manan opened his mouth to argue, but Anaysha silenced him with a firm look. "No more complaints. Eat."

Placing his book back in his room, she paused by the family portrait on the wall.

The photograph captured a time when their family had been whole, filled with warmth and laughter. That was before the tragic, mysterious incident that shattered their lives—a mystery that remained unsolved to this day.

Later that evening, Anaysha stood before her mirror, securing her long, silky hair into a high ponytail.

At 5 feet 7 inches, with her luminous porcelain skin and delicately defined features, she looked like a character from a timeless fairytale. Her youthful charm was enchanting, her beauty a vision that lingered in one's mind.

Dressed to perfection, she walked out to find Manan. "How do I look?" she asked, her voice light yet teasing.

Manan smiled. "Beautiful, as always."

Ruffling his hair affectionately, she kissed his forehead. "Take care of yourself, okay? And don't forget what I said."

As Anaysha drove off, a sleek black Range Rover remained parked not far from the cottage.

Inside, a man cloaked in a black hoodie and mask spoke into a phone. "She's left. What's the next move?"

A deep voice on the other end replied coldly, "Kill her brother. Leave no trace."

The masked man exited the car, a sharp blade gleaming in his hand, and silently approached the cottage.

He entered the living room with measured steps. Manan, engrossed in a wildlife documentary on TV, was oblivious to the danger.

The masked intruder raised his knife, its blade glinting ominously in the dim light, and lunged at the boy.

____________________________

Who is this mysterious attacker?

What grudge does he hold against Anaysha?

Can Manan escape his sinister intentions?

To know…

To be continued…