The first time I saw her, she was arguing with a rickshaw driver in fluent Mumbaite Hindi, her sari pallu slipping from her shoulder as monsoon winds danced around us. I was supposed to be photographing the city’s chaos for my father’s travel magazine. Instead, I found myself capturing the way rain clung to her lashes, how her laughter cut through the downpour like sunlight. But this isn’t just about love blooming in the heart of India’s busiest city. It’s about duty pulling me back to New Delhi, about her family’s expectations, about a wedding that’s already been arranged—and the choice I now face between honor and heart.

I'm Betty, 25, with amber waves of hair and eyes that catch every spark of adventure. Travel has always been my heartbeat, but love found me when I least expected it — in the smile of Hari, a free-spirited soul from Mumbai. We don’t just share journeys; we share desires. Our open relationship thrives on the thrill of watching each other with others — never staying, never jealous, always hungry for more. Now, we’ve met another couple who see the world like we do. The next chapter? Ours to write — one forbidden night at a time.

I never meant to fall for her. Sindhu—my sister, my only family left after the crash that took our parents. We’ve built a fragile peace in this quiet apartment, just the two of us, surviving grief together. But every glance, every accidental touch, every late-night conversation pulls me deeper into a love I can’t admit. Now Grandfather’s coming to live with us—my father’s cold, calculating father, a man who sees too much. I feel his eyes on me already. And I know, if he uncovers the truth burning inside me, he won’t just judge me… he might take her from me forever.