OPENING SCENE – THE TRUCE PARTY
(Mumbai, Raichand Mansion – 9:47 PM)
The penthouse glitters like a gilded cage. Crystal chandeliers refract light onto men in Italian suits and women in jewel-toned saris. Laughter rings—too sharp, too practiced.
ARYAN RAICHAND (25) leans against the balcony railing, his tailored black suit hiding the pistol strapped to his ribs. His whiskey swirls, amber catching the city lights. Across the room, VIKRAM MALHOTRA (30) watches him with the stillness of a snake.
A voice, velvet and venom: “Planning to jump, Raichand? Or just admiring your empire’s graveyard?”
ISHANA VARMA (22) steps beside him, her emerald sari slit to the thigh—revealing the dagger strapped to her leg.
Aryan doesn’t turn. “I count three exits, seven armed men, and you—the biggest threat here.”
She smirks. “Flatterer.”
A waiter passes. She plucks a champagne flute, her fingers brushing his. A silent game.
FLASHBACK – FIVE YEARS AGO
(St. Xavier’s Library – Rain hammering the windows)
16-YEAR-OLD ISHANA shoves a book into her bag. “You’re staring.”
19-YEAR-OLD ARYAN, leaning against shelves, grins. “You stole my lighter.”
“Prove it.”
He snatches her scarf—red silk, like the blood their families spill. “Trade?”
Their fingers brush. Thunder cracks.
PRESENT – THE LIE
Aryan’s father, RUDRA RAICHAND, clinks a fork against his glass. “Tonight, we celebrate… unity.”
Forced applause. The Varmas smile, but ISHANA’S FATHER grips his knife like a weapon.
ARYAN (whispering to Ishana): “Your old man looks ready to stab mine.”
ISHANA: “He’s deciding between the steak knife or the chandelier.”
Vikram appears behind her, hand on her waist. “Dance with me, princess?”
Aryan’s jaw tightens.
SECRET MEETING – ROOFTOP (11:59 PM)
Ishana slips through the service stairs. Aryan waits, moonlight carving his silhouette.
ISHANA: “Your ‘truce’ is bullshit. My father’s moving cargo through your docks tomorrow.”
ARYAN: “And my uncle’s rigging your brother’s car.”
A beat. They laugh—bitter, exhausted.
He pulls out a jade-handled dagger, pressing it into her palm. “If we ever betray each other… use this.”
She traces the blade. “Dramatic.”
He grips her wrist. “I’m serious.”
Her free hand fists his shirt, pulling him close. “Then kiss me first.”
Their lips meet—fierce, desperate.
VIKRAM’S WATCH (12:17 AM)
From the shadows, Vikram watches, his gold lighter flicking open. “Sweet.”
He crushes a cigarette, dials a number. “The Raichand boy’s in love. Let’s use it.”
FINAL SCENE – ISHANA’S BEDROOM (2:00 AM)
Ishana studies the dagger in her lap. Her phone buzzes—a photo of Aryan’s “fiancée” (a steel heiress).
VIKRAM (leaning in her doorway): “Guess you’re not the only one he gives knives to.”
Her grip tightens.
FADE TO BLACK.
END EPISODE 1.
