𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 ⅠⅠ

P H A S E ⅠⅠ( P R O L O G U E )

"I'm going to get evidence of my client's innocence." My voice cut through the heavy silence of the room. His fingers froze over the laptop keys, but he didn't react. He didn't even bother to look at me and simply resumed typing, his blue orbs fixed on the screen.

I shifted my gaze to the mirror and applied the final coat of bold red lipstick. The moment I pressed my lips together, the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

I could feel it.

His gaze.

Dark, unwavering, and impossible to ignore.

"Do whatever limits you have to cross to win the case, Vakeel Sahiba." His deep voice was dangerously calm. "But remember, you're fighting this case against India's No. 1 Advocate, Krish Khurana."

He shut the laptop and casually dropped himself onto the bed, resting one arm behind his head as if the outcome was already decided.

A slow, almost arrogant smirk curved his lips.

"And I don't know how to lose..."

I grabbed my car keys from the key holder and headed towards the door. Just before crossing the doorframe, I stopped. Without turning around I spoke, my voice steady. "And I don't know how to bow down..." then i slowly looked over my shoulder a faint smug played on my lips as his blue orbs met mine. "You will lose in front of me... not once, but every single time."

The moment those words left my lips the smirk that was lingering on his lips vanished instantly. A teasing glint in his eyes was replaced by something far more dangerous.

A silent anger.

One that didn't need words to make itself known. His eyes were enough.

"See you soon, Mr. Husband" I chuckled and walked out of the room, leaving him behind-with nothing but his fury for company.

I slid into the driver's seat of my red sports car and roared the engine to life. The car surged onto the empty road, slicing through the night. A cool breeze slipped inside through the half-open window, brushing against my face, while my knuckles turned white around the steering wheel.

My eyes stayed fixed on the road, but my mind was somewhere else.

Krish and I had been married for six months, yet our marriage existed like a fish without water-alive only in name for the world but Inside the four walls of our home, I was nothing more than a contract, his pawn... or you could call me his personal servant. Yet, I stood against him in the courtroom, challenging the very man who controlled every fucking part of my life as if he owned me.

If someone had told me a year ago that I would be fighting the first case of my career against my own husband, I would have laughed in their face. But life had a cruel way of turning impossibilities into reality.

Strange, isn't it?

The very things I thought I would never do somehow became my reality-whether it was falling in love with Krish or marrying him. I had accepted defeat long ago. I had convinced myself that Krish would never be mine again, that our story had ended before it could even begin but then something happened and i became his wife.

Beep...

Beep...

Beep...

My phone rang on the passenger seat, breaking the heavy silence inside the car and diverting my attention. I glanced at the screen for a brief second before turning my focus back to the road. It was Sam, my assistant. I reached for the phone, slid the green button, and pressed it to my ear. The moment she spoke, her voice practically exploded through the speaker. I seriously have no idea why she always sounds like she's announcing the end of the world.

"Tara ma'am, where are you? The mouse is already in the hole. All that's left is to feed it some bread. Please hurry!"

"I'll be there in two minutes," I replied, my voice steady and composed. I hung up the call and sped up the car.

In no time, I reached my destination-The Black Velvet Night Club, an infamous playground for the rich and their dirty secrets. I grabbed my purse from the passenger seat and slipped a knife from beneath the edge of the leather seat. I always keep one there for my own security, though I never need it because When it comes to my safety, my husband is always two steps ahead.

I stepped out of the car and made my way toward the grand entrance. The doorman pulled the heavy doors open without a word, and I walked inside.

The moment I crossed the threshold, a wave of golden and sapphire lights washed over me, flashing in sync with the deafening bass that vibrated through the floor. The air was thick with the scent of expensive liquor, cigarettes, and luxurious perfumes, all blending into one intoxicating haze.

People moved wildly on the dance floor, their bodies swaying and colliding as if they were trying to shake the building to its foundation. Wine glasses clinked at the bar, laughter echoed from every corner, while drunken voices traded insults, filthy jokes, and gossip about people who weren't even there to defend themselves.

"Tara ma'am, thank God you're here. Come with me."

I was standing in the middle of the dance floor when Sam tapped me on the shoulder and pulled me with her into a room whom I could only describe as a vanity room for the club's strippers. Its walls were lined with oversized mirrors framed by bright bulbs, while all the makeup and brushes were scattered across the counters. Designer, revealing-no, seductive-dresses hung neatly on racks, while some lay carelessly on the floor as if they were nothing more than discarded tissues.

I let my gaze wander across the whole room, taking in every detail, when Sam's loud voice came in contact. "Ma'am, she is the owner of this place, and she is Loveleen. She's serving the VIPs tonight."

My eyes landed on a chubby lady who was now standing in front of me, draped in a shimmering golden saree.Her deep-neck blouse barely covered her nipples, her ample figure could hardly fit into that tiny piece of fabric while her saree was loose from almost every places. looking as if it had been carelessly wrapped. Her face carried what seemed like ten layers of foundation yet it still failed to hide the wrinkles properly. The skin around her eyes was creased like wet paper, and not to forget the bold red lipstick she had somehow managed to apply on her teeth as well.

Beside her stood a girl, probably in her early twenties, dolled up in a revealing green dress made of thin, sheer fabric. The length of the dress was so short it barely hid her figure. Her face was covered in heavy makeup, the same bold red lipstick, smoky eyeshadow framing her eyes, and five-inch heels completing her look. In her face There was no sign of guilt or innocence. She stood tall with so much confidence, as if she had learned how to balance herself in a world like this.

"She is not attending the VIPs tonight." I called out looking at the owner.

"And who are you to decide that." She replied her dry tone laced with anger. Eyes looks like fire at that moment.

"Sam, didn't you tell her what's going to happen here?"

"Ma'am, I told her everything, but she's just not listening." Sam replied

"Really" I spoke and looked at her from head to toe before turning my eyes from her. "Then let me convince her." Saying I drop myself on the chair nearby.

.

.

.

.

When I entered the room, not a single bulb was on. The place was drenched in darkness. I closed the door behind me and took a few slow steps forward, clenching my hand into a fist before calling out.

"Are you here, Mr. Wilson?"

The moment the words left my lips, a single white light flashed on, illuminating the center of the room. A seven-foot pole stood perfectly upright like a tower, polished so flawlessly that not a single particle of dust clung to its surface. It gleamed like a diamond in the middle of the ominous darkness.

A couch sat several feet behind it.

I scanned the whole room just as the restroom door creaked open and a man walked out. He dropped himself onto the couch and spread his legs like a king claiming his throne. I couldn't see his face clearly because of the dim lighting, but I could feel his dirty eyes all over me, especially over my cleavage. The sensation made my jaw tighten, and for a brief moment, the urge to kill him right here, right now crossed my mind.

But I couldn't do that until I got what I wanted from him.

He picked up a cigarette and one more thing from the side table. He put the burning cigarette between his lips when suddenly music roared through the room.

I moved my head to look at the source and saw a music system placed on a shelf to the left of the pole.

He gestured at me with his two fingers, which definitely meant, start whatever I am here for.

I took a deep breath before moving toward the pole.

As I held the pole the cold metal brushed against my palm and the song lyrics came in contact, my grip tightened around the poll.

Mahboobaa, Mahboobaa

Mahboobaa, Mahboobaa

gulshan mein gul khilte hain

jab saharaa mein milte hain...

gulshan mein gul khilte hain

jab saharaa mein milte hain main our too.

Mahboobaa, Mahboobaa

I closed my eyes for a brief second and hide every emotion behind a carefully crafted mask. Then I started to move my body with the first lyrics of Mahboobaa, Mahboobaa.

One graceful step.

Then Another.

My fingers slid around the polished pole as I circled it with slow confidence, the silver anklets around my feet chiming softly with every movement. the flowing sheer panels attached to my waist danced with every movement, creating the illusion that I was floating instead of walking. Tiny mirrors embroidered along the fabric caught the light like scattered stars,

The man leaned further back on the couch, puffing the cigarette smoke in the air.

Husn-o-ishq kee raahoon mein

banhon mein, nigaahon mein

Husn-o-ishq kee raahoon mein

banhon mein, nigaahon mein dil duba.

Mahboobaa, Mahboobaa

As the final "Mehbooba..." echoed through the room, I wrapped one hand around the pole and let the last spin carry me to a graceful stop.

For a moment, silence swallowed the music.

My chest rose and fell with controlled breaths as the sheer panels of my outfit slowly settled around me. The tiny mirrors stitched into the fabric continued to sparkle beneath the white light, and the silver anklets gave one last soft chime before falling still.

I lowered my gaze, allowing a single strand of hair to slip across my face before slowly looking up.He was walking toward me, each step slow, steady, and deliberate.

The dim light reached him first, glinting against his polished black shoes. My eyes traveled upward and stopped on his crisp white shirt which was drenched in a deep crimson stain.

Blood.

A sharp gasp caught in my throat. My eyes widened, my heartbeat thundering against my ribs.

"That's not Mr. Wilson." I murmur

Panic rushed through my veins like ice water. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stay still. I casually let my hand drift toward the messy bun at the back of my head, where the tiny knife had remained hidden all this time.

Every instinct screamed at me to run.

But I didn't move.

Instead, I slipped the tiny knife from my messy bun and spun on my heel in one swift motion, pressing the cold blade against his neck.

A few loose strands of hair fell across my face, stealing my view. For a heartbeat, neither of us moved. Then, with infuriating calmness, he reached up and gently brushed my hair behind my ear.

The simple touch sent a shiver ran down my spine.

My grip tightened around the knife, yet my body went completely still, as if every muscle had forgotten how to move. The only sound I could hear was my own heartbeat, loud enough to drown out everything else, while his steady gaze never left mine.

"What are you doing here? And where is that Wilson?" I questioned, every word dripping in anger.

He chuckled before speaking. "How can you even think that I will share this view of my wife with others?" He gripped my wrist and pulled me closer. We were so close that the sound of our breaths mingled.

"This side of yours is only for me, sweetheart." With his free hand, he traced my lips with his thumb.

"Where is Wilson, Krish?"

"You know, in India, it's actually considered a sin to take another man's name unless he is your husband." He molded my wrist behind my back with a proud smirk on his lips.

"Just don't forget that it's nothing but a mere contract." I shot back, but he didn't flinch. His smirk grew wider as he twisted my wrist one last time before letting go.

"I know, sweetheart, it's a contract..." He murmured, his voice as calm as a silent sea. "And you are my pretty little servant."

"I AM NOT," I shot back venomously, cutting him off.

"Get on your knees, right now."

His voice rang through the dark, silent room. Blood rushed through my body, and my heart felt as though it could burst out at any moment as I looked into his blue eyes-darkened, cold, and unreadable, leaving no room for argument.

This is the prologue phase 2, How's it ? do tell me in the comments. 🫶

This is not the full i didn't write some part of it because it's a prolong not a chapter.

Do leave a beautiful comment before going please 🙏

See you in the first chapter and yea please follow me to read further chapters because it's available only for followers.