Chapter 1: Ghosts at Midnight
Midnight.
My fiancé’s secretary sent me a provocative, intimate photo.
"We spent four hours together today."
I didn’t have time to respond.
Because, at that moment, the soul of my nemesis—dead for ten years—suddenly appeared.
"That’s your fiancé?"
"Tch... Why does he look a bit like me?"
As I stared at the glowing screen in the darkness of my flat, the ceiling fan whirred lazily above, blades slicing through the thick, muggy Pune air. A flicker from the tube light made me tense, half-expecting the usual power cut. But it wasn’t the lights or the WhatsApp notification that sent a chill crawling up my spine—it was Arjun, standing there, looking just as infuriating and alive as ever.
My fingers hovered over the reply button, but my hands felt numb. I wanted to scream, but all I could manage was a shaky breath. The ceiling fan’s lazy rhythm felt like a countdown to something breaking.