A Daughter’s Shelter
Evening. Singh household. Naina enters the living room after a long, suffocating day at the office. Her face is pale, eyes heavy, but she forces a smile. Mr. Singh sits with a file in hand, wearing his reading glasses.
Mahir Singh
(looking up, gently)
Naina beta… you’re late again. Long day at work?
Naina Singh
(drops her bag on the sofa, sighs, and sits beside him)
Papa… I don’t even know what to call it. Long day… or long nightmare.
Mahir Singh
(removes his glasses, concerned)
Nightmare? What happened? Did someone trouble you?
Naina Singh
(hesitates, biting her lip)
It’s just… the office feels heavy, Papa. Everyone’s either scared or too busy pleasing the higher-ups. And that boss of mine— (her fists tighten) —arrogant, controlling… he thinks the whole world is his toy.
Mahir Singh
(studies her closely, voice calm)
You mean Om Prashant Rao’s company?
Naina Singh
(eyes widen slightly)
You… know about him?
Mahir Singh
(nods slowly, tone serious)
Everyone knows, Naina. He’s not just a businessman’s son. People call him dangerous. Ruthless. Even… a mafia king in shadows.
Naina Singh
(looks away, jaw clenched)
Exactly. That’s the vibe I get whenever he’s near me. Like… he owns everything. Even me. And Papa, I hate it.
Mahir Singh
(places a firm but warm hand on hers)
Then stay away from him, beta. Keep your head down, do your work, and don’t let him get under your skin.
Naina Singh
(tears gather, whispering)
Papa… you don’t understand. He… he doesn’t let me breathe. Today, he— (her voice cracks, remembering Om pulling her close, his breath brushing against her) —he stood so close, like he was daring me to run.
Mahir Singh
(tightens grip, voice protective)
Naina… (eyes darken with worry) Did he something to you?
Naina Singh
(swallows hard, looks down)
Not… in that way. But his eyes, Papa… they scare me. Like he’s looking right into me, like he’s already claimed me without asking.
Mahir Singh
(inhales sharply, suppressing anger)
This is why I never wanted you near people like him. Men with too much power, too little conscience. (pauses, stroking her hair) You’re my daughter, my only light. I won’t let anyone break you.
Naina Singh
(leans her head against his shoulder, tears spilling silently)
Papa… you’re the only person who makes me feel safe. Everywhere else… I feel like I’m suffocating in his shadow.
Mahir Singh
(softly, kissing her forehead)
Then promise me, Naina… whatever happens, you’ll never let his darkness change who you are. You’re stronger than you think.
Naina Singh
(wipes her tears, whispering with determination)
I promise, Papa. I won’t bend. Not to him. Not to anyone.
Naina hugs her father tightly, while somewhere in the city Om sits in his lavish office, a glass of whiskey in hand. His lips curl into a dark smirk as he remembers her resistance.
Om Prashant Roa
(thinking, tapping his glass):
“Hate me all you want, baby girl… but sooner or later, you’ll be mine. Your fight only makes me want you more.”
Morning. Kitchen is busy. Mrs. Singh and Pooja (her cousin) sit at the table sipping chai, whispering as Naina helps with breakfast.]
Mahi Singh
(whispering to Pooja)
“Naina is already twenty-four. It’s time we start looking for a good husband. Someone steady, respectable.”
Pooja
(nodding, sneaking a glance at Naina)
“Yes, didi. She’s beautiful, educated, and pure-hearted. We must secure her future before people start talking.”
Naina Singh
(turns around sharply, annoyed, plate in hand)
“I can hear you both, you know.”
Mahi Singh
(clears throat, pretending innocence)
“Beta, we’re only thinking of your happiness. Don’t you want a man who will protect you and love you?”
Naina Singh
(placing the plate down hard, eyes burning)
“I don’t need a husband to protect me. And love… (pauses, her voice breaking with hidden frustration) …love is just another word for control.”
Pooja
(softly, surprised)
“Control? Why would you say that, Didi ?”
Naina Singh
(looks away, fingers trembling)
“No reason… just leave it.”
Om’s Office – Later that Day
Om leans in his leather chair, cigar smoke curling upward. He’s restless, replaying her defiance, her fire, her words. His phone buzzes.
??
Voice on Phone (Assistant):
“Sir, Miss Ananya is here.”
Om Prashant Roa
(smirks, voice cold)
“Send her in.”
The door opens. A tall, glamorous woman in designer clothes enters – Om’s so-called girlfriend, Ananya Kapoor.
Ananya Kapoor.
(smiling, walking close to him)
“Om… it’s been weeks. You’ve ignored my calls.”
Om Prashant Roa
(sips his whiskey, not meeting her eyes)
“I’ve been busy.”
Ananya Kapoor.
(pouts, sliding her arms around his neck possessively)
“Busy with business… or with someone else?”
Om Prashant Roa
(finally looks at her, smirking)
“You’re too sharp for your own good, Ananya.”
Om Prashant Roa
But it's nothing like that
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