Chapter 1: The Khan Mansion

Please forget my grammatical mistake

The Khan mansion stood like a fortress on the edge of the city. High marble walls, guarded gates, and silence that echoed power. Roshni stepped through the main entrance with nothing but a tattered bag and a heart full of vengeance.

She was assigned to clean the east wing, far from the inner quarters where the main family stayed. But she wasn’t here to sweep floors. She memorized the layout, studied the guards’ shifts, and noted who entered and left the inner sanctum.

Her first glimpse of Aryan Khan came unexpectedly.

He was walking through the hallway, dressed in a black kurta, talking on the phone. His voice was low and steady, but his eyes—those eyes—locked on hers for a fleeting second. She froze. It was him. The man from the fire. Or so she thought.

He didn’t stop. Just stared, then walked past her.

That moment ignited a spark.

In the servant quarters, whispers about Aryan were constant. He was ruthless, feared even by his own family. But also deeply respected. Some said he had no heart. Roshni wasn’t so sure.

That night, as she finished wiping the floors of the drawing room, Aryan entered again. Alone.

“You’re new,” he said, voice calm.

Roshni straightened. “Yes, sir.”

“What’s your name?”

“Roshni.”

He looked at her, not with interest, but as if trying to remember something distant. “Be careful. Not everything in this house is as it seems.”

Then he walked away, leaving her with more questions than answers.

But Roshni wasn’t here for questions. She was here for the truth. For revenge.

And the fire that burned her past… was about to set her future ablaze.

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