I never imagined my life in this dusty village would turn into a playground of flesh and failure, but looking back, I suppose I was born for it.

My name is Swati. In this town, I am more than just a woman; I am a prize, a fantasy, and a nightmare for any man with a fragile ego. My family’s wealth, built from the lucrative trade routes that bleed through our lands, ensured I lived in a sprawling estate that felt more like a palace than a house. I grew up surrounded by heavy silk drapes that muffled the sounds of the world, eating meals spiced with saffron and cinnamon, and dripping in gold jewels that caught the sun like wildfire.