“I got a job.”

The lie came out too easily.

That was the first thing that felt wrong.

For a second—

Everything felt normal.

Then—

It didn’t.

Ridhi stood in the center of the living room.

Still.

Controlled.

Her bag rested beside her.

Packed.

Decided.

“A job?” her mother’s face lit up instantly.

“Where?”

Ridhi didn’t answer.

Not yet.

Because the truth—

Wasn’t something she could say out loud.

“It’s a better opportunity,” she said finally.

“I’ll have to move closer.”

Silence.

“Move?” her mother repeated.

Ridhi nodded.

“They’re providing accommodation.”

A pause.

“It’s important for my future.”

Important.

The word didn’t feel real.

Because this wasn’t about a future.

This was about survival.

Her father watched her.

Carefully.

Too carefully.

“This is sudden.”

“It happened quickly.”

That part was true.

Too quickly.

Her mother stepped closer.

“You could have told us earlier.”

Ridhi smiled.

Soft.

Controlled.

“I wanted to be sure.”

Another lie.

The room went quiet again.

Not empty.

Heavy.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“I will.”

No pause.

Because if she paused—

She would break.

Her father exhaled slowly.

“If this is what you want…”

A second passed.

“…we won’t stop you.”

That hurt.

More than anything.

Because they trusted her.

And she was lying.

Ridhi picked up her bag.

Her eyes moved around the room.

The sofa.

The window.

The plant.

Every corner felt—

Safe.

Real.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

No one stopped her.

That made it worse.

The car ride was silent.

Not peaceful.

Empty.

The city moved outside.

Lights blurred.

People passed.

But inside—

Nothing moved.

Arjun Malhotra.

The name stayed.

The way he looked at her.

The way he signed.

The way he walked away—

Like she didn’t exist.

Her jaw tightened.

Was this marriage?

Or was she just…

Part of something already decided?

The car stopped.

Ridhi blinked.

The building stood in front of her.

Tall.

Silent.

No name.

No sign.

Just walls.

Watching.

Waiting.

The door opened.

She stepped out.

And instantly—

She felt it.

That same silence.

Controlled.

Before she could react—

Nandita appeared.

Still.

Perfect.

Watching.

She didn’t speak.

Just turned.

Walked inside.

Ridhi followed.

Because she had no reason not to.

And no option to stop.

The building didn’t echo.

It absorbed sound.

Each step—

Muted.

Measured.

Intentional.

The door opened.

Ridhi stepped in.

And stopped.

Everything was perfect.

Too perfect.

Nothing misplaced.

Nothing personal.

It wasn’t a home.

It was a space prepared.

For someone specific.

For her.

She turned.

Expecting something.

Nothing came.

Nandita looked at her once.

Then left.

The door closed.

Soft.

Final.

Ridhi was alone.

Elsewhere—

Arjun didn’t stop.

He never did.

At the end of the corridor—

Someone was waiting.

“You chose her.”

“Yes.”

No hesitation.

“She’s a journalist.”

Silence.

“And you still went ahead.”

A second passed.

“It was necessary.”

The woman stepped closer.

“This world doesn’t tolerate curiosity.”

A pause.

“And journalists survive on it.”

Something shifted.

“She’s already asking questions.”

Arjun’s gaze darkened.

“That won’t happen.”

“You sound certain.”

“I am.”

A pause.

Heavy.

“If she crosses the line…”

“…she won’t be protected.”

Something cracked.

Small.

But real.

“Her name has already come up.”

That was enough.

“Where?”

“Where it shouldn’t have.”

Silence.

“You brought her into a world she doesn’t understand.”

A step closer.

“And that ignorance won’t save her.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“That her life is already in danger.”

Ridhi stood by the window.

The city looked different.

Distant.

Unfamiliar.

She wrapped her arms around herself.

Not for comfort.

For control.

Because something felt wrong.

Nothing had happened.

And yet—

Everything had started.

Her reflection stared back.

Uncertain.

Unaware.

And somewhere—

Her name had already been spoken.

Not softly.

Not safely.

But in places—

Where names become targets.

“She didn’t walk into danger…”

A pause.

“…she was led to it.”

She didn’t ask the question.

Not yet.

But when she does—

It won’t be about marriage.

It will be about survival.

Is Arjun protecting her…

or is he the reason she needs protection?

Because think about it—

He knew she was a journalist.

He knew she asks questions.

He knew this world destroys people like her.

And still—

He chose her.

Not to protect.

But to place her exactly where the danger is.

So what if this isn’t about saving her?

What if—

She’s the bait?

A second passed.

And suddenly, the real question isn’t about Arjun anymore.

It’s about her.

What if Ridhi wasn’t unlucky…

What if she was selected?