Amrita's POV:
The air was thick with excitement as Meera and I prepared for the Ramleela, the traditional play that took place every weekend in our village. It was the one event I always looked forward to, even if I had no interest in the theatrical performances. It was the energy, the colors, and the people that made it worth the time.
Meera and I dressed in our lehanga-cholis, the vibrant colors accentuating the spirited energy that filled the village streets. My lehenga was a deep red with intricate gold work, and I couldn’t help but admire myself in the mirror. The mirror reflected a new version of me, confident, fierce, but also a little hesitant to play the part of the docile village girl. I liked to feel free, not bound by rules or expectations, but I had learned to endure them over time.
“Come on, Amrita, you look stunning!” Meera said as she twirled, making her lehenga billow out like a cloud of yellow and gold. Her enthusiasm was infectious.
“Thanks,” I replied, not entirely convinced. I had bigger things on my mind than the Ramleela, especially my engagement with Rohan. But I couldn’t avoid it—every weekend, this was the thing everyone talked about, and I was no exception.
We made our way to the center of the village, where a huge crowd had already gathered for the play. I could hear the music, the chatter, and the excited murmurs of the audience in anticipation. And of course, Rohan was already there, his smug face grinning at me as soon as he spotted us.
“Amrita!” he called out, walking towards us. He was dressed in his usual arrogant manner—expensive clothes that made him stand out even more.
“Rohan,” I greeted with a forced smile. I was already prepared for his antics. He was always teasing me, poking fun at my every move, and I had grown used to it. But today, his teasing seemed to go a little further.
“You look good, but not as good as me,” he said, his smirk widening. “I can’t wait for our wedding. You’ll finally be mine, forever.”
I rolled my eyes. “Can’t wait for it either,” I said sarcastically, though I knew I couldn’t escape the reality of what was coming.
Author's POV:
Arjun had received information about the village’s weekly Ramleela, and as much as he preferred to stay hidden in the shadows, he knew it would be a perfect opportunity to gather intel and observe the villagers. He didn’t care much for the play itself, but what he did care about was the way the people gathered, their interactions, and their potential connections with the mafia.
Arjun walked through the village towards the open-air theater, his eyes scanning every corner, his presence commanding yet unnoticed by most of the villagers. His attention, however, was soon captured by something else. Amidst the bustling crowd, his eyes landed on Amrita.
She was standing near the stage, talking with Meera, her laugh filling the air. The way her lehenga shimmered in the light caught his attention, and despite himself, he couldn’t help but admire her. She was fierce—he had seen that in their first encounter—but there was something about her beauty that startled him. Something about the way she carried herself, a mix of defiance and grace.
"Why the hell am I thinking about her?" Arjun muttered under his breath, shaking his head. He wasn’t here for distractions, especially not one like Amrita. Yet, as his eyes lingered on her, he felt an unfamiliar flicker inside him. A chuckle escaped him mentally as he shook off the thought. "Focus, Arjun."
He turned to walk further into the crowd, his mind on the mission. But as he made his way to the back of the crowd to meet with his team, he heard a sound coming from behind a nearby wall. A muffled conversation.

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