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CHAPTER 1Divyanka Mehra had perfected the art of leaving.Leaving cities before they started feeling familiar.Leaving people before they began expecting permanence.Leaving moments just before they demanded honesty.At twenty-nine, she stood exactly where the world believed happiness lived.Mumbai stretched beneath her penthouse like a living, breathing organism—restless, ambitious, endlessly awake. From her glass balcony, the city looked obedient, as if it existed to applaud her choices. And in many ways, it did.Divyanka was celebrated. Desired. Envied.She moved with a confidence that came from knowing eyes followed her wherever she went. Her beauty was striking—long, sculpted lines, a body shaped by discipline