Perfectly Twisted

Episode 1-

Episode 1: The Smile She Wore

They said Ruby was an angel.

She moved like poetry and spoke like a soft lullaby dipped in honey. People adored her — business associates, house staff, even strangers who caught a glimpse of her in her pastel dresses and glassy eyes. Her laughter was the kind that made you stop and look. Gentle, graceful, and… kind.

But kindness was such a convenient illusion.

Ruby knew what they saw. She had perfected it — every blink, every smile, every pause in conversation. She wasn't pretending. She was performing. And she loved being loved.

But what she truly craved... was control.

On the surface, she was a 20-year-old heiress with a warm heart and delicate charm. Behind her eyes lived chaos, curated and quiet — a storm in pearls and perfume. She didn’t want just love. She wanted to be worshipped. To be the center of someone’s world — not for a moment, but forever.

Her mornings began with jasmine tea and classical music. Her evenings ended with silent journals filled with detailed observations about people around her — what they liked, what made them weak. She didn’t just live in a world of wealth and elegance. She studied it. Played it. Owned it.

That morning, the Kapoor Foundation's annual business gala was in full swing at the Marigold Palace — a high-profile gathering of legacy families and new billionaires. Ruby walked in, wrapped in elegance and roses. The scent of power and champagne filled the hall. She wore ivory silk with her mother’s vintage pearl earrings — everything about her screamed grace and softness.

She floated from group to group, speaking softly, nodding politely, smiling just enough. She looked perfectly in place.

And yet, she was bored.

Until he walked in.

She didn’t see his face at first — just the way the crowd shifted, subtly, like they felt his presence before they saw him. He didn’t speak loudly. He didn’t need to.

Amit.

The name hit her ears before her eyes met him.

No. 1Co-owner of Khurana Enterprises. Sharp suits, sharper silence. The kind of man who didn’t chase attention — it followed him. Rumors about him floated in elite circles like perfume — mysterious, intimidating, quietly brilliant.

When their eyes met across the room, something inside her went completely still.

And then?

It snapped.

Ruby’s smile didn’t falter — of course not — but her breath hitched.

It wasn’t love. It wasn’t admiration.

It was possession.

He’s mine.

She didn’t know his middle name. She didn’t care. But she wanted to learn everything — how he walked, how he slept, how he reacted when someone said no.

She would make him hers.

And he wouldn’t even know it was happening.

At least, that’s what she thought.

Later that evening, as she reached for a glass of wine from the server’s tray, her fingers brushed against another’s. Her eyes flicked up.

It was him.

Amit.

Up close, he was even more dangerous. Understated. Collected. And his eyes… were already watching her.

“Ruby, right?” His voice was smooth, deep — like he already knew who she was.

She blinked, caught slightly off-guard. “Yes… and you must be Amit Khurana?”

He tilted his head, a slow smile tugging at his lips — like he had just found something far more interesting than he expected.

“Pleasure,” he said.

But his eyes didn’t say pleasure.