Chapter 1: The Sacred Vow and Broken Chains
The morning bells of the ancient Mahakal temple rang in rhythm with the cool morning breeze, filling the air with incense, smoke, and pure devotion. Standing right before the sacred deity, a girl stood with folded hands, her eyes closed, singing the morning aarti. Her voice held an ethereal beauty—a mixture of deep devotion and unspoken pain that made every devotee nearby stop in their tracks.
She wore an oversized outfit, thick glasses, and carried a quiet demeanor. To anyone else, she was just an unassuming musician named Naina. But inside, her name was Dharni.
Standing a few feet behind her in the crowd was Aryan. Wearing a tailored suit, looking every bit like the top-tier music mogul he was, his sharp eyes were locked onto her back. His fists were clenched tightly at his side.
Aryan could never forget that face.
She was just twelve years old when she first entered his home, raised like a daughter by his grandmother. Back then, Dharni’s entire universe revolved around him. But her constant presence and clingy devotion had felt like a golden cage to Aryan—especially because his heart already belonged to someone else: his own sister-in-law. When his grandmother forced him into a secret marriage with Dharni, his resentment peaked. Exhausted by her presence and unable to bury his feelings for his first love, Aryan had abandoned Dharni in Australia right after the wedding, leaving her stranded in a foreign land.
When Dharni found out she was pregnant, she had called him frantically day and night. But every single attempt was blocked by his cold-hearted assistant with the same three words: "Boss is busy." To cut all ties permanently, Aryan had even changed his grandmother's phone number, trapping Dharni in a silent, agonizing fight for survival.
The aarti concluded. Dharni applied the sacred vermilion on her forehead and turned around. As she made her way through the crowd, Aryan stepped directly into her path, blocking her way.
"You shouldn't stand in front of God and pretend to be an angel, Dharni," Aryan said, his voice dripping with icy venom. "Did you come all the way back from Australia just to ruin my life again?"
Dharni adjusted her thick glasses, her eyes devoid of any fear or affection. The girl who once worshipped him was long dead.
"I came back to sign those cold divorce papers you sent me, Aryan," Dharni replied softly, leaning in just enough so only he could hear. "And to make sure you and I never cross paths again."
She didn't wait for his reaction. She brushed past his shoulder, leaving Aryan standing in a shock of silence.
As she walked out of the temple premises onto the quiet street, Dharni pulled her phone out of her bag. Seeing the familiar caller ID, the cold detachment on her face melted into a warm, gentle smile.
She pressed the phone to her ear. "Hello?"
From the other end came a sweet, cheerful little voice—
"Mumma... where are you?"
Dharni took a deep breath, holding back the tears in her eyes. "Mumma is coming back soon, my sweet baby. Are you taking your medicine?"
Her daughter’s illness was severe, and time was running out. Dharni had zero interest in Aryan’s sudden reappearance, his betrayal, or his music empire. She had enrolled in the upcoming National Music Championship under the pseudonym "Naina" for one reason only: to win the massive prize money and pay for her child's life-saving treatment.
She looked back one last time at Aryan, who was still watching her from the temple steps with unanswered questions burning in his eyes.
He thinks I returned for him, Dharni thought, pocketing her phone and walking away into the crowd. He has no idea I am fighting to save his daughter's life.
