After 15 years in Uttar Pradesh.
"Ranya, wake up, sweetheart! You are going to miss your train!"
The loud voice of Parvati Kapoor echoed through the spacious bedroom.
"If you miss the train, you will have to go by bus to Pune," she continued dramatically. "And then you will reach late. Wake up, it is already eight in the morning!"
Ranya Kapoor, who had been sleeping peacefully beneath a soft white blanket, suddenly sat up in panic.
"What?" she gasped, quickly reaching for the watch on wall.
Her eyes narrowed the moment she saw the time.
6:00 A.M.
Ranya slowly turned toward her mother, who was standing beside the bed with a victorious smile.
"Mumma," Ranya said, her voice filled with disbelief, "you have been using the same trick since my childhood. How do I still fall for it every single time?"
Parvati laughed softly.
"Because you sleep like you have no responsibilities in this world," she replied. "Now stop complaining and get ready. You really do have a train to catch."
Ranya pushed her messy hair away from her face and yawned.
"I am getting up," she murmured.
Parvati folded her arms. "I still do not understand why you insist on traveling by train. Your father could have booked you a private flight."
Ranya's sleepy expression immediately turned excited.
"Because traveling by train is fun, Mumma!" she said, climbing out of bed. "You cannot enjoy mountains, rivers, fields, and the cold wind from a plane window. I want the window seat, music in my ears, my hair flying everywhere, and platform samosa chaat."
She pressed a hand dramatically against her chest.
"That is the real feeling of traveling."
Parvati shook her head with an affectionate smile.
"Yes, yes. I understand your great love story with trains and samosas. Now go take a shower before your train leaves without you."
Ranya laughed and rushed toward the bathroom.
Parvati Kapoor watched her daughter disappear behind the door. Her smile remained, but her eyes softened with emotion.
Her little girl was leaving home.
Not forever, she knew that.
But for the first time, Ranya would be living in another city, far from her parents, far from the protective walls of the Kapoor mansion.
Ranya Kapoor was no ordinary girl.
She was the only daughter of Aashish Kapoor, one of the most influential industrialists in Uttar Pradesh. The Kapoor Group was known across the country for its power, wealth, and business empire.
But despite his public image, Aashish Kapoor had always protected his daughter's identity.
The world knew about his success.
The world knew about his wealth.
But very few people knew that he had a daughter.
It was not because he wanted to control her life.
It was because he wanted to protect it.
Business enemies, jealous competitors, and dangerous people existed everywhere. Aashish Kapoor had faced them all. But Rani was the one weakness he could never afford to expose.
Still, he had never wanted his daughter to feel imprisoned.
And today, Ranya was leaving for Pune to begin a new chapter of her life at S.C. College—her dream college.
After a few minutes, Ranya stepped out of the bathroom, looking fresh and bright.
She wore a long white dress decorated with delicate blue and yellow embroidery. Small earrings adorned her ears, a tiny bindi rested between her brows, and a sacred red thread was tied around her wrist.
Beside it was a beautiful watch.
But that watch was not ordinary.
It was expensive, rare, and designed with security features that only a few people in the world knew about.
Ranya came downstairs with a cheerful smile.
"Beta," Parvati called from the living room, "I packed your suitcase. Check it once. Tell me if you need anything else."
Ranya sat beside her mother and smiled.
"Mumma, I packed my suitcase last night. The rest of my things have already reached the flat. Do not worry so much."
Then her eyes widened suddenly.
"You packed aam papad, right?"
Parvati laughed. "Yes, my child. I packed everything you like. Snacks, homemade food, sweets, and your aam papad."
At that moment, Aashish Kapoor entered the room.
He was dressed in a crisp suit, but there was something softer in his eyes when he looked at his daughter.
"So, my princess is ready?" he asked.
Ranya immediately walked toward him.
"Yes, Dadda."
Aashish smiled and kissed her forehead before pulling her into a warm hug.
"Take care of yourself," he said quietly.
"You too," Ranya replied, hugging him tighter.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Aashish Kapoor had handled million-dollar deals, business wars, and powerful enemies without fear.
But sending his only daughter away from home felt harder than any battle he had ever faced.
He wanted to ask her to stay.
He wanted to tell her that he could build the best college in their own city if she wanted.
But he knew Ranya deserved to chase her dreams.
And so, he let her go.
Soon, it was time to leave.
Ranya hugged her mother tightly, then her father once again. She tried to smile, but her eyes became slightly emotional.
"Call me as soon as you reach," Parvati said.
"I will," Ranya promised.
"And do not trust strangers," Aashish added.
"Dadda," Ranya said with a small laugh, "I am going to college, not a battlefield."
Aashish looked at her for a moment.
"You do not know how dangerous the world can be."
Ranya did not understand the weight behind his words.
Not yet.
She waved at her parents from the car before leaving for the railway station.
The train journey was exactly how Ranya had imagined it.
She sat by the window, listening to music as the view outside changed slowly. Green fields, distant mountains, small stations, rivers, and crowded platforms passed before her eyes.
She bought samosa chaat from a vendor at one station and smiled like a child after taking the first bite.
By evening, she reached Pune.
A taxi was already waiting outside the station.
Her new flat was located in a peaceful residential area, away from the crowded city roads. The building was modern, secure, and comfortable.
Ranya entered the passcode on the digital lock.
The door opened.
For a few seconds, she simply stood there, looking around.
Her new home.
Her new beginning.
Her furniture and boxes had already arrived. Ranya placed her bag on the sofa, clapped her hands, and smiled brightly.
"Come on, Ranya Kapoor," she told herself. "Let us make this place beautiful."
For the next few hours, she arranged everything with excitement. She placed cushions on the sofa, organized her books, decorated her bedroom, and arranged the kitchen.
When everything was finally done, she went to freshen up.
Later, she opened one of her bags and carefully took out a small idol of Lord Shiva.
She placed it in a small temple corner near the living room window. Then she lit a diya, folded her hands, and closed her eyes.
"Lord Shiva," she whispered, "my life is almost perfect. I have my dream college, a new city, my own flat, and freedom."
She opened one eye playfully.
"Now I only need one thing."
She smiled.
"A handsome man. Someone who looks like a hero from a novel. Please send one."
Ranya laughed softly at her own prayer.
After that, she made coffee and walked toward the balcony.
The evening air was cool. She sat on the swing, placed her earphones in her ears, and played a soft song.
With a warm cup of coffee in her hands and the city lights glowing in the distance, Ranya slowly fell asleep.
She had no idea that the man she had jokingly asked Lord Shiva for was not a hero from a sweet romance novel.
He was a storm.
And storms never entered someone's life without destroying something first.
---
Thousands of miles away, in Russia, a man sat alone in the top-floor office of a skyscraper.
Outside the glass walls, snow covered the city like a white blanket.
Inside, the room was cold, silent, and expensive.
A man sat behind a black desk, reading a file with complete focus.
His name was Jeet Aryan.
His sharp features remained emotionless as his eyes moved across the pages. Every word in the file was enough to make the air around him feel heavier.
Suddenly, he shut the file.
The sound echoed through the room.
The employee standing in front of him flinched.
Jeet slowly lifted his eyes.
His gaze was calm.
Too calm.
Then, without warning, he threw the file directly at the employee's face.
The man stumbled back in fear.
"Well done," Jeet said in a cold voice.
The employee lowered his head immediately. "Sir, I can explain—"
"You can explain?" Jeet repeated.
His voice was low, but it carried a dangerous edge.
He stood up from his chair.
The employee's hands began to shake.
Jeet walked toward him slowly.
"You made the same mistake that everyone fears," he said. "You thought I would forgive betrayal."
"Sir, please—"
Jeet suddenly slammed his hand against the desk.
The employee jumped.
"Jeet Aryan hates only one thing in this world," he said, his voice echoing through the cabin.
"Betrayal."
The employee's face turned pale.
Fear took over him completely, and before he could say another word, he collapsed to the floor.
The door opened immediately.
A young man entered the office, his head slightly lowered.
"Yes, boss?" he asked.
"Alex," Jeet said without looking at him.
Alex waited silently.
"Take him to the secret location."
Alex nodded. "Yes, sir."
Jeet's eyes turned darker.
"Make sure he regrets breathing after betraying me."
Alex gave a short nod and signaled two guards standing outside.
They carried the unconscious man away.
The office became silent once again.
Jeet walked toward the glass wall and looked down at the snow-covered city.
For him, trust was un
Family was weakness.
And weakness was something he had removed from his life years ago.
But very soon, a girl from Pune would enter his world.
A girl with innocent eyes, a stubborn heart, and a prayer for a novel-like hero.
Ranya did not know it yet.
But Jeet Aryan was not going to become the hero of her story.
He was going to become her greatest danger.