Ep~1: The Proposal

The heavy tick of the grandfather clock in the Patel mansion echoed through the silence, filling the space between sharp breaths and unspoken words. Anaya Patel sat straight-backed on the edge of a velvet chair, her palms pressed tightly together in her lap. The air smelled faintly of sandalwood and aged books, but to her it carried only dread.

Her father sat across from her, his thick brows knitted, his knuckles white around the armrest of his chair. Beside him, her mother tried to look composed, though her downcast eyes betrayed a current of unease.

Something was wrong.

“Anaya,” her father began, his voice deep and deliberate, “a proposal has come for you.”

Her heart gave a sudden, violent jolt. Already? She had known this moment would come one day, but she thought she had more time—time to travel, time to dream, time to fall in love by choice and not obligation.

“With whom?” she managed, though her throat had gone dry.

Her father’s gaze sharpened, as though to test her strength before delivering the blow.

“Adrian Moretti.”

The name struck her like ice water poured down her spine.

Everyone in Mumbai’s high society had heard of him. The elusive heir of the Moretti empire—young, brilliant, ruthless. He was a man cloaked in power, yet shrouded in whispers. Some said he had more control over the city than its politicians. Others murmured about smuggling routes, bloodied hands, and enemies who mysteriously disappeared.

“Moretti…” she whispered. The name tasted foreign, heavy. “But—”

Her mother reached over, placing a hand on hers. “We know what you’ve heard. Dangerous. Merciless. That’s what people say.”

“And it doesn’t bother you?” Anaya snapped, pulling her hand back. “That you would marry me off to a man like that?”

“Anaya.” Her father’s tone cut across her rebellion like a knife. His voice had always been stern, but tonight it carried steel. “This alliance will secure our family. Do you understand? The world is changing. Business is brutal. With the Morettis behind us, no one will dare touch us.”

Business alliance. Strategy. Power.

Not love. Not happiness.

Her chest constricted, anger and despair warring in her veins. “And what about me? Am I just another pawn on your chessboard?”

Her father’s jaw hardened. “You will do your duty.”

The finality in his tone silenced her. She wanted to fight, scream, run, anything—but the walls seemed to close in on her. For all her education, all her dreams, she was still their daughter. Bound by blood, bound by obedience.

That night, long after her parents had retired, Anaya sat at her window, her forehead pressed against the cool glass. The city stretched before her, glittering like a thousand unkept promises.

She whispered the name again. Adrian Moretti.

The stories of him came flooding back. The dark eyes that could strip a man’s soul bare. The silence that spoke of violence held in check. A man people obeyed not just out of respect, but out of fear.

And this was the man she was to marry.

Her pulse quickened. The idea of binding her life to a stranger felt unbearable. And yet… somewhere in her chest, beneath the fear, something tugged at her. A strange sense of déjà vu. The name felt familiar in ways she couldn’t explain, as if it belonged not only to the man she had heard of, but to some shadow buried in her memory.

She shook her head violently. No. I’m imagining things.

Across the city, in a sprawling villa guarded like a fortress, Adrian Moretti stood at the window of his private study, a glass of amber whiskey in his hand. His black shirt was half unbuttoned, his sleeves rolled, the faintest scar visible along his forearm.

On his desk lay a photograph, old, worn at the edges. A little girl by a lakeside, her smile radiant, her hair tousled by the wind.

His gaze lingered on the picture before lifting to the glittering skyline.

“Soon,” he murmured, a dangerous softness curling in his voice. “Soon, you’ll be mine, Anaya.”

The ice in his glass clinked as he tipped it back, eyes burning with something far deeper than mere duty.

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