Locked Hearts Palace – The King’S Obsession
Heart of Mumbai
In the fast-moving heart of Mumbai, where glass towers touched the clouds and dreams were sold under golden lights, three young women were unknowingly standing on the edge of a life that would change forever.
Among them was Trisha Yadavanshi, the kind of woman people noticed even when she was doing absolutely nothing.Born into a wealthy middle-class family that valued dignity over display, Trisha had been raised with discipline, intelligence, and the stubborn belief that no name in society was bigger than character.Trisha spent most of her days preparing for the IPS examination, determined to wear authority one day instead of borrowing it from someone else.
Her beauty was sharp rather than soft. Her words sharper. She had a savage honesty that often left people speechless. If someone was fake, she exposed it. If someone was arrogant, she humbled them. If someone underestimated her, they regretted it.
Then there was Sushmitha, her closest friend since college. Elegant, polished, and kind-hearted, Sushmitha worked in the finance world and was already building a respected career in accounting. She came from a comfortable family, lived with grace, and believed people were better than they often were. Her biggest strength was kindness. Her biggest weakness was trusting too quickly.
And the third in their trio was Vaishnavi, a doctor with the softest smile and the strongest heart. Loving by nature, calm in chaos, and endlessly supportive, Vaishnavi was the one people leaned on without realizing it. Patients adored her. Friends depended on her. She believed every person had goodness hidden somewhere inside them.
The three women were different in nature, yet impossible to separate.
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Stunning young woman
That evening, after weeks of Trisha burying herself in exam books, Sushmitha stormed into her apartment carrying shopping bags and unnecessary drama.
Sushmitha Sharma
You are coming out tonight,
Sushmitha declared. Trisha looked up from her notes.
Trisha Yadavanshi
I’d rather interview mosquitoes.
Vaishnavi entered behind her holding coffee cups.
Vaishnavi Singh
We already booked a table.
Trisha narrowed her eyes.
Trisha Yadavanshi
This friendship feels illegal.
Within an hour, she was dressed in black and gold, standing between her two laughing best friends as their car rolled toward one of Mumbai’s most elite clubs—Velvet Mirage.
The club glowed like another universe. Crystal lights spilled over polished marble floors. Music thundered through the walls. Influencers posed near neon signs, businessmen laughed too loudly, and strangers pretended to be important. Velvet Mirage was where wealth came to be witnessed.
Trisha Yadavanshi
Everyone here looks expensive and unhappy,
She muttered. Sushmitha gasped.
Sushmitha Sharma
Can you please behave for one night?
Vaishnavi laughed and linked arms with both of them.
Vaishnavi Singh
Just dance a little. Then we go.
They entered the VIP floor, where the crowd was thinner but far more dangerous. Power always preferred privacy.
That was when chaos arrived in six-inch heels.
A stunning young woman in a silver Green dress stepped backward sharply, avoiding the hand of an overly drunk socialite trying to corner her.
Myra Kanakvanshi
I said move,
She snapped. The man laughed.
Anonymous
Don’t act pricey. Everyone here has a rate.
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Myra Kanakvanshi.
Before anyone else reacted, Trisha was already beside them.
She grabbed the man’s wrist and twisted just enough to wipe the smile off his face.
Trisha Yadavanshi
She said move,
Trisha Yadavanshi
Do you need subtitles too?
The surrounding crowd froze.
The man glared.
Anonymous
Do you know who I am?
Trisha released him with visible disappointment.
Trisha Yadavanshi
Unfortunately, no.
Sushmitha nearly choked trying not to laugh.
Vaishnavi gently guided the furious man away before security arrived.
The Green silver-dressed woman stared at Trisha for a second… then burst out laughing.
Myra Kanakvanshi
Oh, I like you.
Myra Kanakvanshi
People usually flirt first. You assaulted someone for me.
Trisha Yadavanshi
It was community service.
The woman extended her hand.
Myra Kanakvanshi
I’m Myra Kanakvanshi.
Even Trisha paused at the surname.
Kanakvanshi.
Old royal blood. Rajasthan lineage. Modern fame.
Myra wasn’t just rich—she was known. Millions followed her online. Fashion brands chased her. Cameras loved her. Gossip channels feared her.
Yet in person, she looked less like a celebrity and more like a storm in designer clothing.
They sat together for the next hour as if they had known each other for years.
Myra was witty, bold, shamelessly dramatic, and surprisingly genuine. She spoke openly, laughed loudly, and asked questions no socialite usually asked.
Myra Kanakvanshi
What do you girls actually do?
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