The temple stood tall and serene, its ancient stone walls adorned with intricate carvings and colorful murals that whispered stories of faith and devotion. The soft scent of incense hung in the air, mingling with the gentle flicker of oil lamps, casting warm, flickering light across the sacred space. For Siya Rajput, this temple was a place of peace, a refuge from the storm of her life. Today, however, the weight of her memories made it feel even more significant.

It was the anniversary of her parents' death, a day she dreaded and cherished in equal measure. Every year, she came to pray for their souls, hoping they had found peace in the afterlife.

Siya wore a light pink suit, the soft fabric flowing gracefully around her as she walked. With each step, the delicate sound of her payal—tiny bells attached to her ankles—rang softly, a melody that echoed in the quiet of the temple. As she approached the entrance, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the warmth of the sacred space and the weight of the memories pressing down on her heart.

Inside, the temple was alive with quiet whispers, the soft murmur of prayers blending with the crackle of the oil lamps. Siya knelt in front of the idol, her hands folded in prayer, her heart heavy with longing.

"Mom, Dad, I miss you both so much," she whispered, her voice barely audible, trembling with emotion. "Please guide me... watch over me, today and always."

Tears filled her eyes as memories of their laughter, their warmth, their love surfaced—moments that now felt like lifetimes ago. This yearly ritual was her way of feeling connected to them, a way to hold on to the love they had shared.

After finishing her prayers, Siya stayed kneeling for a moment, collecting herself. Slowly, she wiped her tears and took a deep breath. The pain was still there, but it felt softer now, as if her prayers had lifted a small piece of the burden from her chest.

As she rose to leave, the soft chime of her payal continued, a soothing rhythm that accompanied her every step.

Outside the temple, Aarav Singh Rathore stood, his phone pressed tightly to his ear, impatience etched into his expression. He was waiting for his mother, who had gone inside to pray. Aarav had no belief in God; the temple was just another place where people sought comfort he didn't understand. His mind was elsewhere, consumed by business decisions, strategies, and deadlines.

"I can't believe you forgot to schedule that meeting, Raj!" he snapped, his voice slicing through the peaceful atmosphere of the temple grounds. "This is the second time! If you can't handle something this simple, maybe I should find someone who can!" His tone was sharp, every word loaded with frustration.

His personal assistant stammered an apology, but Aarav barely heard it. His temper was boiling over, the weight of his work and responsibilities pushing him to the edge.

Just as he opened his mouth to fire him, a soft, unexpected sound reached his ears—the delicate chime of payal. The gentle melody cut through his anger, pulling his attention away from the call.

He looked up, catching a fleeting glimpse of a girl in a light pink suit, her back to him as she walked away from the temple. The tension in his body seemed to melt away, replaced by a quiet calm he hadn't realized he needed. The chaos of his world faded for a moment, leaving only the soothing echo of the bells in his mind.

Aarav lowered the phone, his voice suddenly softer. "Arrange the meeting as soon as possible," he said abruptly, before ending the call. His gaze followed the girl as she disappeared into the distance, curiosity stirring in his chest.

Just then, something glimmered on the ground where she had passed. Frowning slightly, he walked closer and crouched down, picking up a small, delicate feather pendant that had fallen unnoticed. As his fingers closed around it, an odd sensation washed over him—a strange connection, as if the pendant carried a piece of her essence with it.

(Ignore the hands)

Slipping the pendant into his pocket, he murmured under his breath, "My angel," unaware of how deeply this moment would imprint itself on his life.

Will Siya's warmth melt Aarav's cold exterior, or will he remain trapped in his ruthless world?

I hope this prologue has sparked your curiosity and excitement for what's to come! Your support means everything to me, and I'd love to hear your thoughts as the story unfolds. If you're enjoying the journey so far, don't forget to vote, leave a comment, and share your views. Every bit of feedback helps and inspires me to keep writing!

Thank you for being a part of this adventure—I can't wait to share more with you!