Mumbai, 6:12 AM — 3 Hours Later
The alley was gone.
Devian's men had torched everything — the bloodstains, the cameras, the cheap cigarette butts. No witnesses. No digital trail. But Devian remembered. He sat in a dark office above an abandoned textile mill, face unreadable, sleeves rolled up, shirt stained from last night.
A photograph lay on the table: Meher. Taken from an old driver's license. Alive. Unsmiling. Forgotten. "Her name is Meher Sharma," his informant muttered. "Twenty-one. From Juhu. No criminal records. Clean." "Family?" Devian asked, without looking up. "Stepmother. Stepsister. Father died years ago. No one filed a missing report." Of course they didn't. Devian's fingers tapped the edge of her photo. One, two, pause. One, two. Like a rhythm only he could hear.
"She went to Club Inferno with her step-sister and boyfriend," the man added. "Boyfriend's name — Aarav Malhotra. From a rich brat circle. His father's in real estate.", "And?", "And the sister... Rhea Sharma. Pretty. Influencer. Small-time club connections. I think they were setting her up." Devian's jaw tightened.
He leaned back in his chair, gaze turning to stone. "They drugged her," he said quietly. "Left her in that alley to die." A pause. Then: "Bring me Rhea first."
Somewhere Else, Somewhere Far
It was raining.
Soft, summer rain — warm on her skin. She opened her eyes to the gray sky. Her fingers dug into wet sand. Her body trembled, but there was no pain, not like before. Not the alley. Not the bleeding. She was whole. Alive.
A bird flew overhead. The waves of the beach kissed her feet. She sat u, gasping, wide-eyed, and clutched her chest like her heart didn't belong there anymore.
"No… no no no—"
Her hands touched her face, arms, and belly — no bruises. No cuts. No red dress. Just a cheap cotton kurti, like something she'd worn years ago. She blinked. The trees, the beach, the air — this wasn't now. "Am I dreaming?" she whispered.
But she knew she wasn't. She could feel it. Her body was younger. Her skin is smoother. Her hair — longer, untouched by dye or heat. This wasn't just another day. This was before.
Before Club Inferno. Before Aarav. Before Rhea's betrayal. Terror flooded her chest. "I got another life…", "But the monsters are still here."
✦ Back in Mumbai — Devian
The sun had fully risen by the time Devian stepped out of the mill. The streets were waking. Hawkers shouting. Children crying. Life pretending it was normal.
But Devian wasn't done.
"If she hadn't died," he muttered under his breath, "what would she have done?"
He didn't believe in second chances.
But for some reason, he wanted her to have one.