Rahul's head throbbed with the relentless beat of a drum, each pulse a reminder of the depraved acts of the night. He rolled over, his body aching, his mind a swirl of guilt and disgust. He looked at the two women lying next to him, their bruised and battered bodies a stark contrast to the pristine white sheets. The smell of sex and sweat lingered in the air, a cloying scent that clung to their skin like a second layer.

Shagoon and Ritu lay unmoving, their faces a mask of exhaustion and defeat. The cocaine-induced euphoria had long since worn off, leaving only the bitter taste of reality in its wake. Yet, as he watched them, a strange emotion bubbled up inside him—happiness. It had been so long since he had felt anything resembling joy, and even if it was born from the most twisted of situations, it was a feeling he clung to like a lifeline.