Kriti stood by the narrow window, staring out at the city as dusk settled over the skyline. The weight of the evening pressed against her, a reminder of the cage she was trapped in. Behind her, her uncle’s groans filled the air, but she had learned to tune them out. He had ruled her life with cruelty and fear, but that was before. Now, it was his turn to suffer.

Her fingers traced the edge of the window frame, the cold glass soothing against her skin. She whispered to herself, her voice barely audible over his pained grunts, “This is only the beginning.”

A flicker of memory stirred deep within her—something from a time before her uncle, before the torment. But like every other time, the memory slipped away before she could grasp it, leaving her with only the void.

Kriti turned away from the window. Her uncle called her name, pleading. She didn’t answer.

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Two figures stood silhouetted against the flickering lights of an abandoned rooftop. The air was electric with the hum of distant traffic and the cool breeze whispered through the alleyways, carrying the scent of rain.

The Ghost, cloaked in darkness, leaned against the edge, his mask gleaming under the moonlight. He glanced sideways at Infinity, her slender figure poised gracefully beside him. Like him, she wore a mask, a striking design that concealed her identity yet accentuated her allure.

“Do you ever get tired of hiding?” he asked, his voice low, almost intimate. The mask created a distance between them, but the connection they shared was palpable.

Infinity turned to him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Hiding? Or protecting what’s ours?” She gestured to the sprawling city below, the chaos they had come to embrace. “This is our playground, our kingdom, built in the shadows.”

He chuckled softly, the sound muffled by the mask. “Always the optimist.” He felt the familiar pull towards her, the unspoken bond that tethered them together. Despite the masks, he could sense the depth of her emotions, the way they intertwined like the streets below.

“You know I wouldn’t trade this for anything,” she replied, her tone softer now. “Not even the freedom of being seen.”

A moment passed, heavy with understanding. They were more than just partners in crime; they were each other’s confidants, navigating the dangers of their world together. The masks they wore symbolized their commitment to secrecy, but behind the facade lay an intimacy that went beyond the surface.

“Let’s keep it that way,” The Ghost said, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “Together, we’re unstoppable.”

“Always,” she echoed, her voice steady.

As they stood side by side, the city sprawled before them—a testament to their ambitions and the life they had chosen. Hidden behind their masks, they were free to be whoever they needed to be, bound by loyalty, trust, and an undeniable spark that ignited the night.

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The grand ballroom sparkled with light and laughter, but Kritika felt the emptiness in it all. She stood near the edge of the crowd, watching the swirl of gowns and tuxedos, the polished masks of people she didn’t know, pretending to belong to a world that wasn’t hers.

Her eyes drifted to the tall figure near the bar — Naksh Rajvansh. He seemed just as out of place as she was, though he wore his indifference with ease. There was something about him, something that made her pulse quicken and her thoughts blur.

As if sensing her gaze, Naksh turned, meeting her eyes across the room. His lips curved into a half-smile, one that was more knowing than friendly. For a moment, the crowd faded, and it was just them, standing on opposite ends of a bridge neither of them knew how to cross.

He approached her slowly, his steps measured. “You look like someone who has more secrets than you let on.”

Kritika arched a brow, her guard rising instinctively. “Don’t we all?”

Naksh’s smile deepened, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yes, but some of us hide them better than others.”

And with that, the music swelled, the crowd closed in, and the moment passed, leaving her with more questions than answers.

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