Lavanya stared at the notebook lying on the table.

Then she stared at the ceiling.

Then back at the notebook.

Then back at the ceiling.

This continued for nearly five minutes.

Finally, she sighed dramatically.

"Why me?"

Nobody answered.

Which was rude.

Because she felt she deserved an explanation after waking up as a fictional villainess.

A fifteen-year-old fictional villainess.

A villainess whose future was a complete disaster.

Lavanya dropped her head onto the table.

This was unfair.

She had plans.

A beautiful future plan.

Study hard.

Get a good job.

Adopt a child.

Live peacefully.

No husband.

No romance.

No drama.

Then fate had looked at her plans and decided to throw her into a novel.

A terrible novel.

Well...

Not terrible.

The story was actually good.

The ending was terrible.

Especially for Vanya Singh.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.

"Beta?"

Sunita Aunty peeked inside the study.

"Have some milk."

Lavanya looked at the glass.

Then at Sunita Aunty.

Then at the glass again.

For a brief moment, she felt emotional.

The woman looked exhausted.

Five days ago she had lost the people she worked for.

Yet she was still taking care of Vanya.

A warm feeling spread through her chest.

"Thank you, Aunty."

Sunita looked surprised.

Very surprised.

Lavanya immediately remembered.

Right.

The original Vanya rarely thanked people.

Oops.

"Are you feeling better today?" Sunita asked carefully.

Lavanya nodded.

"A little."

The older woman smiled before leaving.

Once she was gone, Lavanya released a breath.

That had been close.

She needed to be careful.

If she suddenly behaved like a completely different person, people would become suspicious.

After finishing the milk, Lavanya returned to her mission.

Financial investigation.

The most important task.

Because before rejecting Vikram Rathore's help, she needed proof she could survive alone.

The notebook opened once again.

Bank account.

Savings.

Insurance.

Property.

She checked everything.

Twice.

Then a grin slowly appeared.

"Oh."

She wasn't poor.

Not even close.

Raghav Singh wasn't some billionaire businessman.

But he had been responsible.

Very responsible.

The house was paid for.

There were savings.

Investments.

Insurance money.

Enough to support a teenager comfortably for years.

Lavanya leaned back proudly.

"See?"

She pointed at the papers.

"I don't need a guardian."

A memory suddenly surfaced.

Maya Singh standing in the kitchen.

A younger Vanya pouting beside her.

"Mom, why do I need to learn this? We can hire people."

"Because one day you might need these skills."

"That won't happen."

"Learn anyway."

The memory faded.

Lavanya smiled.

Maya Singh had been a typical Indian mother.

Rich or not, she had taught Vanya everything.

Cooking.

Cleaning.

Laundry.

Budgeting.

Household management.

Everything.

Honestly, even without Vanya's memories, Lavanya wasn't completely helpless. Growing up, she had learned basic household chores herself. Living away from home in a hostel had taught her how to manage things independently.

Now, with both Lavanya's experience and Vanya's memories, she felt more confident than ever.

She could cook.

She could clean.

She could manage expenses.

She could take care of a house.

So why exactly did everyone think she needed a guardian?

The more she thought about it, the more ridiculous the idea seemed.

She wasn't helpless.

She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself.

And she fully intended to prove it.

She could survive.

Actually survive.

Without Rathore Mansion.

Without bodyguards.

Without billionaire guardians.

Without Rudra Rathore.

Especially without Rudra Rathore.

That thought immediately reminded her of the novel.

Lavanya groaned.

Rudra Rathore.

The male lead.

Cold.

Handsome.

Rich.

Emotionally unavailable.

The type of man fictional heroines loved.

The type of man Lavanya avoided.

She still couldn't understand the original Vanya.

Why chase a man who clearly wasn't interested?

There were literally millions of people in India.

Find another one.

Or better yet—

Stay single.

The best option.

Lavanya nodded firmly.

Marriage sounded exhausting.

By afternoon, she had created a complete survival plan.

At the top of the page she wrote:

OPERATION AVOID THE RATHORES

Step 1: Politely refuse Vikram Rathore.

Step 2: Stay in the Singh house.

Step 3: Continue school.

Step 4: Study hard.

Step 5: Get a part-time job later.

Step 6: Never enter Rathore Mansion.

Step 7: Avoid Rudra Rathore.

Step 8: Avoid the plot.

Step 9: Live peacefully.

Lavanya stared proudly at her masterpiece.

Beautiful.

Logical.

Perfect.

Nothing could go wrong.

The next few hours passed surprisingly peacefully.

She cleaned her room.

Organized books.

Folded clothes.

Watered plants.

The simple tasks helped calm her thoughts.

For the first time since arriving in this world, she felt normal.

Almost.

Every now and then she would see her reflection and nearly have a heart attack.

Being Vanya Singh still felt weird.

Very weird.

That evening, she sat outside on the small balcony.

The weather was pleasant.

Children played nearby.

People walked home from work.

Everything felt ordinary.

Which was nice.

Lavanya liked ordinary.

Ordinary was safe.

Unfortunately, the novel didn't believe in ordinary.

As the sun began setting, Sunita Aunty joined her.

For a while they sat quietly.

Then the older woman spoke.

"Your father would be proud of you."

Lavanya froze.

The words hit harder than expected.

She looked down.

A strange sadness filled her chest.

Not hers.

Vanya's.

The memories of Raghav and Maya still hurt.

Even if she wasn't the original Vanya.

The emotions remained.

"They were good parents."

The words escaped before she could stop them.

Sunita smiled sadly.

"They loved you very much."

Lavanya nodded.

Because that was true.

Undeniably true.

That night, sleep refused to come.

Lavanya tossed and turned.

Every time she closed her eyes, she remembered the same thing.

Tomorrow.

Vikram Rathore would arrive tomorrow.

The official beginning of the story.

Her stomach twisted.

What if he refused to listen?

What if he insisted?

What if—

"No."

She sat up.

Negative thinking wouldn't help.

She had arguments.

Strong arguments.

She wasn't helpless.

She wasn't homeless.

She wasn't starving.

Everything was fine.

Any reasonable adult would understand.

Right?

...Right?

Lavanya wasn't completely convinced.

The next morning arrived far too quickly.

Only a few hours remained.

The entire day felt tense.

She repeatedly checked her plan.

Then checked it again.

And again.

And again.

By lunchtime, she had memorized every argument.

By evening, she had practiced them aloud.

By night, she could probably debate them in her sleep.

Standing before the mirror, she crossed her arms.

"Listen carefully, Vanya Singh."

Her reflection stared back.

"You are not going to Rathore Mansion."

She pointed dramatically.

"You are not following the original plot."

Another point.

"You are not becoming a villainess."

A third point.

"And you are definitely not falling in love with Rudra Rathore."

The reflection remained silent.

Which she interpreted as agreement.

Good.

Just then, footsteps echoed downstairs.

A moment later, Sunita Aunty called from below.

"Vanya beta!"

Lavanya walked downstairs.

"What happened?"

The older woman hesitated.

Then held out the telephone.

"Mr. Vikram Rathore called."

Silence.

Complete silence.

Lavanya slowly accepted the receiver.

Her heart pounded.

The call lasted less than a minute.

Yet it felt much longer.

When it ended, she placed the phone down carefully.

Very carefully.

Sunita looked nervous.

"What did he say?"

Lavanya stared blankly ahead.

Then answered.

"He'll be here tomorrow morning."

The room became silent.

Tomorrow.

The day had finally arrived.

The beginning of the story.

The beginning of all her problems.

Meanwhile, somewhere in Mumbai, Vikram Rathore was preparing to fulfill a promise he had made to his late friend.

And Lavanya was preparing to reject him.

One of them was about to be very disappointed.

Lavanya barely slept.

Every time she closed her eyes, she imagined different versions of the same conversation.

"Uncle Vikram, I want to stay here."

"Okay."

That was her favorite version.

Unfortunately, reality rarely worked that way.

Then there was the second version.

"Uncle Vikram, I want to stay here."

"No."

Simple.

Terrifying.

Very possible.

By the time morning arrived, Lavanya was already exhausted.

She stared at the ceiling for several minutes before finally dragging herself out of bed.

Today was the day.

The day Vikram Rathore arrived.

The day the original story officially began.

And the day she planned to destroy the plot before it even started.

After getting ready, she went downstairs.

Sunita Aunty was already in the kitchen.

The smell of breakfast filled the house.

Normally, it would have been comforting.

Today, it felt like the calm before a storm.

"Eat properly," Sunita said.

Lavanya obediently sat down.

Then proceeded to stare at her food.

"Beta."

"Hm?"

"Looking at it won't fill your stomach."

Lavanya sighed and started eating.

Sunita watched her for a moment.

Then asked softly,

"Are you nervous?"

Lavanya immediately denied it.

"No."

A pause.

"...Maybe a little."

Sunita laughed.

A real laugh.

Probably the first one in days.

Around ten in the morning, a black luxury car stopped outside the Singh residence.

Lavanya nearly dropped her glass of water.

"He is here."

Her voice sounded strangled.

Sunita looked out the window.

Then straightened her saree.

"Come."

Lavanya remained seated.

"Do I have to?"

"Yes."

"I suddenly don't feel well."

"Vanya."

"I think I have a fever."

"Vanya."

"My stomach hurts."

"Vanya."

"...Fine."

A few moments later, the front door opened.

Lavanya looked up.

And froze.

The novel had described Vikram Rathore as intimidating.

The novel had underestimated him.

The man walked into the house with an air of authority that made the entire room feel smaller.

Tall.

Sharp features.

Impeccably dressed.

Calm.

Controlled.

Powerful.

The kind of man people instinctively listened to.

Lavanya suddenly understood why the business world feared him.

This wasn't someone who accepted excuses.

Or arguments.

Or nonsense.

Which was unfortunate because she planned to use all three.

Vikram's gaze settled on her.

For a brief moment, something softened in his eyes.

Pain.

Sadness.

Regret.

"They looked after her."

The thought appeared unexpectedly.

Because for the first time, Lavanya remembered something.

Raghav and Vikram had genuinely been friends.

Not business acquaintances.

Friends.

The realization made her feel guilty.

Just a little.

"Hello, Uncle."

Vikram nodded.

"How are you feeling?"

The question surprised her.

"I am okay."

It wasn't entirely true.

But it wasn't entirely false either.

For several minutes, the conversation remained polite.

Vikram asked about school.

Her health.

Whether she was eating properly.

Normal questions.

Reasonable questions.

The problem was that Lavanya knew what was coming next.

And she wasn't looking forward to it.

Finally, it happened.

"Pack your things."

There it was.

The famous line.

The line that started the entire novel.

"Tomorrow we will leave for Mumbai."

Lavanya immediately sat straighter.

"No."

Silence.

Complete silence.

Sunita stopped breathing.

Probably.

Lavanya wasn't sure.

She was too busy panicking internally.

Vikram looked at her.

Not angry.

Not surprised.

Just... looking.

Which somehow felt worse.

"I would like to stay here."

Her voice came out surprisingly steady.

Vikram remained silent.

Lavanya continued.

"This is my home."

Still silence.

"I have enough money."

Silence.

"I can continue my studies here."

More silence.

"I don't want to be a burden."

At that, Vikram finally spoke.

"You are not a burden."

The answer came instantly.

Without hesitation.

Lavanya blinked.

For some reason, that response caught her off guard.

"I appreciate your concern, Uncle."

She forced herself to continue.

"But I can take care of myself."

For a moment, Vikram said nothing.

Then-

"You're fifteen."

Lavanya opened her mouth.

Closed it.

Opened it again.

Unfortunately, he had a point.

She hated when people had points.

"I know how to cook."

Vikram raised an eyebrow.

"I know how to clean."

Another eyebrow raise.

"I know how to manage expenses."

Now he actually looked amused.

Amused.

Why was he amused?

This was a serious discussion.

"I can take care of myself."

The words came out firmly.

Confidently.

Determined.

Vikram studied her quietly.

Then asked,

"Who will take care of you when you are sick?"

Lavanya paused.

"..."

Oh.

That was a good question.

She didn't have an answer.

"Who will attend school meetings?"

Another question.

"..."

"Who will handle legal matters?"

"..."

"Who will protect you from people who might take advantage of a fifteen-year-old girl living alone?"

"..."

Lavanya's confidence began crumbling.

Very slowly.

Very painfully.

Like a building collapsing in slow motion.

The worst part?

Everything he said made sense.

She hated that.

Absolutely hated it.

Because her plan had sounded perfect inside her head.

Now it suddenly had holes.

Dangerously large holes.

Still.

She refused to surrender.

"I can learn."

The answer came immediately.

Vikram sighed.

Not annoyed.

Just tired.

As if he had expected this conversation.

"As stubborn as your father."

Lavanya froze.

The words weren't criticism.

They sounded strangely affectionate.

For a moment, nobody spoke.

Then Vikram looked around the house.

The photographs.

The furniture.

The memories.

Everything.

When he finally spoke again, his voice was softer.

"I made a promise."

Lavanya looked up.

"To your father."

The room became quiet.

"He trusted me."

Something in his expression changed.

"He believed I would protect you."

For the first time, Lavanya didn't know what to say.

Because this wasn't about pity.

Or obligation.

Or charity.

This was about friendship.

About trust.

About a promise made between two men.

Unfortunately...

She still didn't want to go.

"No."

The answer escaped before she could stop it.

Vikram blinked.

Lavanya took a deep breath.

Then repeated herself.

"No."

The room fell silent.

Several seconds passed.

Then something unexpected happened.

Vikram laughed.

Actually laughed.

A short laugh.

But still a laugh.

Sunita looked shocked.

Lavanya looked shocked.

Even Vikram seemed slightly surprised.

"Interesting."

That one word filled Lavanya with dread.

Nothing good ever followed the word interesting.

Nothing.

Ever.

Finally, Vikram stood.

"I'll return tomorrow."

Lavanya blinked.

Tomorrow?

What happened to forcing her?

What happened to arguing?

What happened to convincing her?

That was suspicious.

Extremely suspicious.

Before leaving, Vikram paused near the door.

Then looked back at her.

"Think carefully."

His voice remained calm.

"You are not choosing a house."

Lavanya frowned.

"You are choosing a family."

For some reason, those words stayed with her long after he left.

That evening, Lavanya sat alone in her room.

Her notebook lay open.

Operation Avoid the Rathores.

The words stared back at her.

For the first time since arriving in this world...

She wasn't entirely sure.

Not because she wanted to go.

Definitely not.

But because Vikram Rathore wasn't behaving the way she expected.

The novel had never focused much on him.

Now she wondered if it should have.

Still.

Her decision remained unchanged.

She wasn't going.

Absolutely not.

Probably.

Hopefully.

Maybe.

...Okay, she was starting to panic.

To be continue...