1 The taxi crawled through the labyrinthine lanes of North Kolkata, its honking lost beneath the tangle of tram bells, rickshaw wheels, and street vendors’ cries. Anwesha Chatterjee pressed her forehead against the window, staring at a city that was at once familiar and foreign. She had grown up here, in fits and fragments, spending summers in her father’s ancestral home before moving to Delhi for college and then her law career. Now, at twenty-eight, she was returning not as a visitor but as heir, summoned back by her father’s death. The car pulled up before the massive wrought-iron gates…
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Pratap MIshra 1 Arjun Desai stepped off the sleek black car and onto the dew-covered ground of the luxury resort, nestled in the misty hills of Mussoorie. The crisp mountain air filled his lungs, fresh and raw, as the early morning fog wrapped around the colonial-style buildings like a secret waiting to be uncovered. It was the perfect retreat, or at least, that’s what his manager had promised. After the public scandal—the rumors, the tabloid frenzy, the endless online mockery—Arjun needed peace. He needed to be far away from the chaos of Mumbai and its relentless pressure. The resort was…