The moment Avleen left the room, something unsettled twisted in the pit of my stomach. She moved too quickly. Her eyes hadn’t met mine properly even once. The stubborn glint she always carried was dulled—like something inside her had cracked.

I was still staring at the door when Advik let out a sigh beside me.

“She was in too much of a hurry,” I murmured, still not pulling my eyes away.

Advik nodded, folding his arms. “Something was off about her today. I know she said it was just a bad dream, but...” he trailed off, frowning.

I didn’t reply. I couldn’t. My thoughts were occupied with something else entirely.

Without a word, I turned and walked toward the elevator. I didn’t wait for Advik’s reply. As the lift doors closed, the mirrored walls reflected my scowl. My own face irritated me today.

In the parking lot, the driver was already waiting near the car. As I approached, I raised my hand.

“I’ll drive today. You can leave.”

He looked surprised but didn’t question me—no one did. With a curt nod, he handed over the keys.

I slid behind the wheel, the familiar feel of leather and control wrapping around me like armor. But it didn’t do much. Not tonight.

The engine roared to life, but my mind was elsewhere as I steered the car out of the building.

Why the hell was she in such a rush?

And why do I care? But there is this constant nagging feeling that she is hiding something. Something that I am unable to see behind the mask of her perfect smile.

The wind lashed against the windows as I sped through the night, the city lights blurring past like distractions I didn’t want.

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

When I reached the mansion, I parked the car slowly and walked in.

The moment I stepped through the front door, I was greeted with the aroma of my mother’s cooking. A warmth that had been absent all day. But how did Dad allow Maa to enter the kitchen? Dad never allowed Maa to cook because once she got a small scratch while cooking. And Dad could not bear to see her hurt...that’s why he forbade her to cook.

“Eshank!” Maa’s voice carried from the dining room. “You’re just in time for dinner. Go freshen up, beta.”

I nodded silently and made my way upstairs. The sound of my footsteps echoed against the marble, louder than usual in my ears.

I reached my room and opened the door. After coming inside the room, I took off my jacket, folded it, and kept it on the sofa.

Then I went to the bathroom and started taking off my clothes. My attention was only on her, Avleen. The events that happened today keep swirling in my mind.

I stood under the shower, hoping to get some relief from these thoughts. Her thoughts.

The hot water hit my back, but the chill inside me didn’t leave.

The image of Avleen twisting in that bed, mumbling something in her sleep—′help me...′ —circling in my mind like a storm refusing to pass.

Her clenched fists, her panicked breathing. The way she refused to make eye contact. And then that hurried exit.

She never used the elevator. She always arrived early, always panting slightly, like she’d just run a marathon. No one climbs thirty floors on foot in heels unless they have to.

And she had to.

Dammit. I didn’t even realize that until today.

I slammed the tap off and ran a hand over my face.

I dried myself with a towel and tied another one on my waist and came out of the bathroom. I picked up a black tee and joggers from the wardrobe and wore them.

I came down, dressed in fresh clothes, jaw locked as usual.

Everyone was already seated—Maa, Dad, Eklavya, and Aanya. The usual noise of chatter, clinking plates, and laughter. I joined them with a nod.

“Eklavya bhaiya,” Aanya said, her tone full of mischief. These two are going to fight here, like children.

“Hmm, bolo, bandariya,” Eklavya said, clearly knowing that she hated being called ‘bandariya.’

(Hmm, say it, monkey.)

“Oh... main bandariya... huh?” Aanya scoffed lightly.

(Oh... I am a monkey... huh?)

“Dekha agree kar rahi ho.” Eklavya teased her further. Mom and Dad were completely enjoying their banter. Even I couldn’t stop myself when the corner of my mouth twitched upwards, almost forming a smile.

(See, you are agreeing.)

“Bhaiya, bandariya ka bhai bhi bander hi hota hai... prr aap toh bade bhai hain naa... toh aap toh langoor huye.” Aanya replied to him with her usual sass.

(Brother, the brother of a female monkey is also a monkey... but you are the elder brother... so you are a baboon.)

“Toh Aanu, tumhara matlb... Eshaaankkk Bhaiya bhi...” Eklavya said, dramatically stretching my name. He knew Aanya would never say something like that for me, but in order to tease her, he said so. He wanted her to feel bad for calling me ‘langoor.’

(So Aanu, do you mean... Eshaankkk Bhaiya too...)

(Baboon)

“Hawww... maine kab aisa kaha Bhaiya ko... maine toh aapko kaha hai. Mere Eshank bhaiya mujhe bina baat ke kuch nahi kehte.” Aanya said, as she leaned closer to me, held my arm with both hands, and kept her head on my arm like a small child.

(Haww... when did I say this to brother... I told you. My brother Eshank does not say anything to me without reason.)

“Haan, maine toh pata nahi bandariya bolkar konsa pather maara.” Eklavya muttered under his breath, but still it was loud enough to be heard.

(I don’t know what stone I hit by calling you a monkey.)

“DADAAAA... dekhiye naa bhai ko teen baar bandariya bol chuke hain mujhe.” Aaanya called Dad between sibling banter, and this means my little sister is now mad. She always does this. Jab bhi Eklavya usko pareshan karta hai aur voh usse lad nahi pati toh... DAD chillakar, unhe bula leti hai. Jaanti hai Dad phir Eky ki class lenge.

(DADAAAA...look, he has called me a monkey three times.)

(Whenever Eklavya troubles her and she is unable to fight him, she shouts Dad, and calls him. She knows that Dad will teach Eklavya a good lesson.)

“BANDARIYA... BANDARIYA.... dekho, dekho... BANDARIYA.” Eklavya started calling her bandariya again and again, irritating her more. He loves to pull her leg.

(Monkey... monkey... look, look... monkey.)

“Bhaiyaaa...” Aanya called and looked at me with those puppy eyes and a childlike pout. Abb mujhe beech mein bolna he padega because whenever she makes that face. I can’t say ‘no’ to her.

(Brother...)

“Eklavya... abb bas, Mat chedo Aanu ko.” I said to Eklavya, knowing he won’t tease her further after my intervention.

(Eklavya... Enough now, don’t tease Anu.)

As they finally stopped teasing each other.

Eklavya muttered, under her breath, “She is younger, toh sab uski side lenge. Main bechara koi meri side bhi aa jao yaar.”

(She is younger, so everyone will take her side. I am poor; someone please come to my side too)

I shook my head at his stupid self-talk, and reached for the glass on the table.

“Beta,” Maa said as I picked up my glass of water, “I was thinking... if Avleen is free, ask her to come with me for shopping again sometime. She helped me so much last time. The shopping isn’t complete yet. I am sure if she will accompany me, then we can finish it early. Even Aanu wants to meet her too.”

Aanya’s eyes sparkled at the mention of shopping, and she grinned looking at me. As if trying to persuade me to say ‘yes’

I paused. For a moment.

The water in my mouth felt like glass shards. I swallowed and set the glass down slowly.

“Maa... I think we shouldn’t disturb her for now.”

She blinked. “Why? Something happened?”

I exhaled through my nose. “She had a rough day today.”

Maa narrowed her eyes. “Eshank... tell me honestly, did you punish that girl again?”

I glanced at her, then away.

“No. Not today. It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it?”

I leaned back slightly in my chair. “She had a panic attack. Claustrophobia. Apparently... she’s scared of closed spaces. She never mentioned it before.”

Aanya gasped softly.

Mom’s eyes widened, as if she couldn’t believe that fact. “She always looks so composed. You’re saying she... panicked?”

“She was in my office. The doors got stuck for a few minutes. She froze. Like she couldn’t breathe.”

Maa’s expression softened into concern. “Poor girl. And she’s been working with you for a few weeks now. On the thirtieth floor.”

I nodded.

“She climbed all those stairs every day... just to avoid the lift. Never complained. Always on time.”

Even saying it out loud made something in my chest twist uncomfortably.

Maa shook her head, murmuring, “There’s always so much more to people than they let on. That girl’s hiding pain, I can tell.”

I didn’t say anything. Because that pain had a name. I just didn’t know what it was yet.

And I hated not knowing.

After dinner, everyone scattered to their respective rooms, includingme.

I entered my room, and there he was—Lucifer—already making himself at home at the foot of my bed, as if he owned the place. Typical of him. The furball barely acknowledged my presence, his tail flicking with arrogance.

I sat at the edge of the bed, elbows resting on my knees, staring ahead into the quiet. The day’s events were still circling my head like vultures.

“Lucifer,” I muttered, rubbing my temple, “what do you think she’s hiding?”

Lucifer responded with a low purr, like he was pondering it too.

I let out a dry smirk. “Tum toh usse mile bhi nahi ho na. Miloge toh jaan jaoge usko... chalti phirti aafat hai voh.”

At that, Lucifer growled faintly—maybe agreeing, maybe not. Knowing him, it was probably both.

I leaned back, pulled out my phone from my pocket, and opened her contact.

Her name stared back at me on the screen: Miss Musibat {PA}.

I hovered over the call icon for a second. My thumb paused. The logical thing to do was call her and ask if she was okay. I wasn’t exactly the type to dance around concern. But this... this felt different.

And I didn’t understand why.

After a moment, I sighed and turned off the screen, tossing the phone beside me. I lay down, hands behind my head, and stared up at the ceiling. My mind refused to switch off. Thoughts of her... curled in pain, mumbling in her sleep, clinging to me like I was her last breath.

Why did it bother me so much?

I shut my eyes.

Sleep didn’t come easily. But when it did, her tear-streaked face was the last thing I saw.

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

The next morning, I walked into the office, phone in one hand, already going through today’s agenda. Rivan handed me the schedule with a brisk nod. I left early for the office today as I had an important video conference with foreign delegates.

“Avleen’s already in your cabin, sir,” he said.

I frowned. “That early?”

I walked in and saw her on the couch, eyes on the laptop screen, typing away. Her usually loud humming was missing. No scattered files, no curses at the printer, no half-argued war with the coffee machine.

Just... silence.

She looked up the moment she heard the door close. Her face lit up with that practiced smile. “Good morning, Mr. Rai Singhania.”

“Morning,” I said curtly and sat down.

She walked across the room to hand me a file. That’s when I noticed it—her slight limp.

Her left foot... she was dragging it. It was subtle, but I had seen her walk a hundred times. She wasn’t even trying to hide the pain well.

“What happened to your foot?” I asked casually.

She waved a hand like it was nothing, but I saw her shoulders getting tense at my question. “Oh, that? Just my usual clumsiness, sir. I tripped. Nothing major.”

Bullshit.

She wasn’t limping yesterday.

I let it go for now.

We got into the work, but something felt... off. She wasn’t being her usual self. Normally, she’d have interrupted me thrice by now with her cheeky remarks or absurdly timed tea offers.

But today? She didn’t even hear me the first two times I asked for the Kapoor file.

“Avleen,” I said again, sharper this time.

She blinked and looked up. “Yes, sir?”

“Kapoor file?”

She nodded quickly, went to retrieve it, and brought me the Suryavanshi file instead.

I raised an eyebrow.

She stared at it, then laughed lightly. “Oops, mujhe lagta hai aaj mera dimaag ghaas charne gya hai. I’ll grab the Kapoor one.”

(Oops, I think my brain went on vacation.)

When she returned with the correct file, I shut my laptop and looked at her directly.

“What’s going on with you today?”

She tilted her head and smiled. That too-bright, too-perfect smile she gave when she was dodging things.

“Nothing, sir. You’re thinking too much.”

“Am I?” I leaned back in my chair, not breaking eye contact. “You didn’t hear me twice, brought the wrong file, and you’re dragging your damn foot like it’s not screaming in pain.”

She chuckled, brushing her hair behind her ear. “If it makes you feel better, I promise main itni jaldi aapko pareshan karna nahi chhodungi. You are just lucky today. I am not in a mood to trouble you.”

(I promise I won’t stop bothering you so soon.)

My jaw clenched.

She was hiding something. Again.

But I didn’t press further. Not yet. I didn’t want her to retreat completely.

She turned to go back to her desk, and I watched her for a moment—shoulders tense, walking stiffly, still smiling like everything was fine.

But I could see it.

Something was eating her alive.

And the worst part?

I wanted to fix it.

Even if she didn’t ask me to.

Even if I didn’t know why.

She stood at the threshold of my cabin, clutching her notepad like she always did before leaving my cabin. Her foot was still slightly twisted, but she tried her best to act like she wasn’t in pain.

“Sir?” she asked, pausing. “Why did you shift the floor?”

I didn’t look up from my screen immediately. I wanted to see if she’d guess.

“Just for my convenience,” I replied flatly. I can’t tell her that I don’t want her running up and down the stairs, 30 floors, every day, like it was nothing.

She blinked, clearly unconvinced. “Oh... samjhi main.”

(Oh... I understand.)

That sarcastic tone was back, faintly, but there. Good. Maybe she was still herself beneath whatever mess she was hiding.

I leaned back and added, “I want a coffee, Ms. Avleen. Now.”

She rolled her eyes, but the corner of her lips lifted. “Of course, sir. Mr. Rai Singhania needs his fuel.”

She turned and walked off before I could fire back. That girl had a way of leaving just when my temper hit the edge—but somehow, with her, it didn’t spill over.

The moment she left, I pressed the intercom button. “Rivan.”

“Yes, sir?”

“I want the blueprint of the Golden Hue Hotel. The architect was talking about some structural fault in the banquet area. Call him here before the conference. I want that sorted today itself.”

“Noted, sir. I’ll bring the blueprint and arrange the meeting.”

I hung up and leaned back, rubbing the back of my neck. The shift in Avleen’s behavior all morning—it still lingered like static in the air.

Three soft knocks came on the door. But not just any knocks. Three knocks in a rhythm she always used. A beat only she dared to do. No one else in the entire damn building knocked like that. That’s how I always knew it was her before she entered.

“Come in.”

She entered with the coffee, her limp now even more visible. She tried to mask it by walking a little faster, probably hoping I wouldn’t notice.

I took the cup from her without a word.

One sip.

My tongue hit salt.

Salt. She had added salt instead of sugar.

I looked at her, but she didn’t seem to realize the mistake. Or maybe she did. She just raised an eyebrow and asked, “Should I get you anything else, sir? You look cranky.”

I held her gaze for a second, then shook my head. “Just... go.”

She left without another word, not realizing I drank the entire cup.

And that’s what stunned me the most.

I drank it. All of it.

If anyone else had dared serve me coffee that tasted like ocean water, they would’ve been fired on the spot. Hell, I once threw a tray at someone for not heating my espresso to 70°C. But with her... I just drank it.

And I didn’t even flinch.

What the hell is happening to me?

Rivan entered just after she left, holding the blueprints in a thick folder. We began the meeting with the architect. I tried to focus—tried to switch back into business mode—but her salty coffee, and her tired eyes, and her dragging foot kept creeping into the edge of my vision.

By the time the meeting ended around noon, my head was pounding—not from work, but from questions I had no answers to.

It was break time when I stepped out of the cabin, still on a call with Arjun, discussing some investment-related nonsense that didn’t really need my voice but required my name.

And then I saw her.

Avleen.

She was walking quickly, glancing at her watch like she was late for something life-altering. She was heading towards the stairs, not the lift—again. My gaze trailed her, but before she reached the staircase, she bumped into one of the interns rounding the corner.

Papers flew, a short gasp left her mouth, and—

Money fell.

Notes. Folded, stacked. At least a few thousand.

Not in an envelope. Not company-labeled. Just loose notes from her pocket or bag.

My voice to Arjun faltered. “I’ll call you back.” I hung up mid-sentence.

She bent quickly, apologizing to the intern. “I’m so sorry!”

She picked up the notes like they were nothing and stuffed them back into her purse.

But I saw it.

That amount wasn’t small. Not for her. She hadn’t even gotten her first salary yet.

Where did that kind of cash come from?

What the hell is going on with her?

She looked up, and for a moment, our eyes met. She froze.

But then she quickly offered that same bright smile—the one she used when she was hiding something—and nodded. “Just rushing out, sir! I’ll be back before break hour ends!”

She turned and took the stairs two at a time despite her injury.

My fists clenched.

She never mentioned any financial stress. She never even spoke about her family beyond vague mentions. That limp, the silence, the sudden cash—nothing made sense.

Yeh ladki kar kya rahi hai?

(What is this girl doing?)

Itne Paise iske aaye kaise?

(How did she get so much money?)

And...why the hell am I so damn bothered by this?

The minute she disappeared down those stairs, I turned and walked into my cabin with a clenched jaw and a storm brewing inside me.

I didn’t know why I was this agitated.

Hell, I shouldn’t be. She was just an employee.

But nothing about Avleen had ever been “just.” Not her sass, not her clumsiness, not the goddamn silence she wore today like a cloak over a battlefield.

I sat down heavily in my chair and grabbed the intercom. “Rivan.”

“Yes, sir?” came his calm, precise voice.

“You were the one who finalized Avleen Kaur’s hire, right?”

There was a pause. “Yes, sir. She was the top candidate during the final interview round. Scored full on the competency test. Is something wrong?”

“Run her background again.” My voice was flat but firm. Cold steel.

“Sir?” His confusion rang clear.

“I said do it again, Rivan. I don’t care if it was clear the first time. I want another report—detailed. School, college, past jobs, any family records, everything. I want it on my desk by tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, sir. Right away.”

I cut the call.

I stared at my phone for a long second after that. Something didn’t add up. People didn’t carry thousands of rupees in loose cash in their pockets—not when they hadn’t even seen their first salary.

She looked... scared. And desperate.

What’s wrong with her? What am I missing? Maybe a missing piece that can make the picture clear? I need to find that piece.

------------------------------------------------------------------

I was in a board meeting, trying to discuss a property dispute with our Delhi legal team. They were talking, explaining... and my eyes kept flicking toward the office door.

It had been over an hour since Avleen left.

Where the hell was she?

Why the hell did I care?

Yet, I found myself reaching for my phone under the table.

I called her.

No answer.

I waited a minute and dialed again.

Still nothing.

I clenched the phone so tightly that my knuckles turned white.

“Mr. Rai Singhania?” someone asked from across the table. “Sir, should we proceed with the final clause discussion?”

I waved my hand. “Continue.”

My phone screen still mocked me.

I had no idea why my stomach had started to churn. Why her not answering was making my chest feel tight.

Twenty minutes later, I left the conference room under the excuse of an urgent call. I headed straight to the security room.

“Pull up today’s live footage for floor one,” I ordered the guy behind the screen.

He did, without question.

And there she was.

Avleen.

Entering back into the office fifteen minutes ago—hair a little messier, dupatta clutched tightly in her hand, eyes flickering everywhere like she was still being chased by something invisible.

She looked around, muttered something to the receptionist, and walked straight to the pantry to get water.

Her shoulders sagged, and her body looked drained.

Whatever she had gone out for... it hadn’t gone well.

My lips pressed into a thin line as I closed the laptop screen.

That’s when my phone buzzed in my hand.

Nikunj. Nikunj Malhotra, my hitman and a very good investigator. He can find out people’s life history, like it’s nothing. Dead or alive, he can get anyone’s information. Nothing escapes his eagle-like eyes. He is a sharpshooter as well; once the target gets locked, not even the devil can save that person.

Finally.

“About damn time,” I muttered and answered.

“Boss.”His voice was sharp as a blade. Always ready, always watching.“I’m on the move. What do you need?”

“I need my lawyer found. The bastard had been hiding ever since Avleen disclosed his fraud in a legal agreement. I want him caught and in my torture cell by tonight. I don’t care if he’s hiding in the Maldives or in his damn mother’s basement.”

“Understood. Any idea where to start?”

“He was last seen at that shady bar in Green Ridge Lane. Start there. And Nikunj...”

“Yes?”

“While you’re at it...” I hesitated. “Get a man to watch Avleen too. Discreetly. I want to know where she goes and who she meets outside this office.”

Nikunj didn’t question me.

He never did.

“Done, Boss.”

I ended the call and leaned back in my chair, my fingers steepled under my chin.

I wasn’t sure what I was looking for. Or why my chest felt tight every time I thought of her hiding something.

But I did know one thing.

I had to find out what the hell she was up to.

Because if Avleen Kaur thought she could fool me—the coldest billionaire, the king of the dark universe, the master of control—she had no idea what kind of storm she had invited into her life.

And I was just getting started.

I ended the call with Nikunj and stepped out of my cabin, needing to clear my head. My eyes instinctively scanned the floor, and there she was—Avleen. Sitting at her desk, focused, scribbling something on a notepad. Her eyebrows were drawn in concentration, lips pressed in a tight line. Not even a trace of the usual clumsiness or sarcasm I had grown used to.

She looked... exhausted.

Still, I didn’t disturb her. I just watched.

The hours dragged on. The office, once buzzing with activity, gradually emptied. Phones quieted. Laughter faded. Lights dimmed.

It was evening now—quiet, peaceful.

Except inside me, there was this storm brewing.

I just ended the video conference with foreign delegates. We are expanding our hotel chain in Russia; the legal formalities needed to be finished. Now the final meeting has been scheduled for next month in Russia.

I had just stood up to pour myself a glass of water when a knock echoed across the room—three taps, rhythmically spaced.

Only one person ever knocked on my door like that.

“Come in,” I said as I sat on the chair, not bothering to look up.

She entered. And I could tell—something was different.

Her footsteps were hesitant. Her voice even more so.

“Sir... Mujhe aapse baat karni thi.”

I didn’t look up from my laptop. “Speak.”

There was a pause. A trembling inhale.

“I... I... need a loan.”

That made my fingers pause mid-type. My eyes lifted, slowly, meeting hers.

Her voice was soft, but her eyes were burning with a kind of desperation I couldn’t ignore.

“A loan?” I repeated, leaning back slightly in my chair. “How much?”

She swallowed, her throat bobbing as she whispered,“49,50,560 rupees.”

I blinked.

For a moment, I said nothing.

That wasn’t just a loan. That was almost fifty lakhs. It’s just a small amount for me, but for her, it’s a huge amount. But why did she need such a hefty sum of money?

My chair creaked slightly as I sat up straighter. “Why?”

Her gaze dropped. “I... I can’t tell you, sir. But please... I really need the money.”

I scoffed.

“You want fifty lakhs but don’t want to tell me why?” I stood now, walking around the desk slowly, like a predator circling. “Do you think I’m a fool, Miss Avleen?”

Her hands shook, but she didn’t break. “No, sir. I would never think that. Please... I’m not lying. I’ll return every single penny. I’ll work overtime. Cut it from my salary. Bit by bit. I don’t want charity. I just... I just need help.”

My arms crossed over my chest. Her words weren’t moving me. Not right now.

“I will do anything, sir. Please...” she pleaded, her voice cracking, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Please, sir.”

I narrowed my eyes.

“You’ll do anything?” My voice was cold. I could feel it even in my own bones. “So that’s what this is. Another girl thinking she can pull emotional strings for money. Acting helpless. Throwing in big numbers. Pleading with innocent eyes.”

Her breath hitched, like I’d slapped her.

Good.

I needed to see her truth.

Outside, the clouds had broken loose—rain slammed against the windows like wild applause.

I turned to glance at the downpour, then turned back to her.

“If you’re so desperate for money... if you’re willing to do anything...” I looked her in the eyes. “Then go stand in the rain. All night. Right there at the front gate. Don’t move an inch.”

Her eyes widened.

Shock flickered across her face—but only for a moment.

Then came something I didn’t expect.

Resolve.

Pure, terrifying, unwavering resolve.

She nodded.

“Okay, sir. I’ll do as you say.”

I blinked.

What?

I expected protest. I expected outrage. I expected her to storm off crying or cursing me under her breath.

But she...

She simply agreed.

She turned to leave, her steps slow but steady.

For the first time in a long time, I felt something twist in my gut.

Is she really going to do it?

Is she really that desperate?

More importantly...

What the hell is she hiding that she’s willing to humiliate herself like this?

I walked to the window as she disappeared from the corridor. The rain outside blurred the view, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the gate.

Part of me hoped she wouldn’t go.

Another part of me knew she would.

And deep down, something darker whispered: You’ve just pushed the only woman brave enough to stand in front of a storm for something she refuses to explain.

Goddamn it.

What are you doing, Avleen?

And why the hell does it feel like it’smestanding in the rain right now?

Why are you doing this?

Are you really innocent? Or an outstanding actor?

7 saal pehle jo bhi huya uske baad, tum toh kya Avleen, main kisi ladki prr bharosa nahi kar sakta. I have lost someone so precious, just because of someone else’s greed. I won’t take that risk again, never again.

(After whatever happened 7 years ago, leave alone you, Avleen; I can’t trust any girl.)

I will break you, bit by bit.

Until

You tell me the reason for this loan...

Welcome to hell, Miss Avleen Kaur.

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