Scene: Kim Mansion
(A grand hall with dim lighting, a tense atmosphere lingers in the air. Mr. Kim stands g older sister figure, watches from the side, ready to diffuse tension.)
Living Room
Nia (frowning, arms crossed): Dad, I don't need bodyguards. You know I like to be alone.
near the fireplace, his sharp eyes reflecting the flickering flames. Nia, a young woman with a delicate yet fierce aura, stands with crossed arms, her expression defiant. Hyung, her composed and calculating older brother, observes quietly. Min, the cheerful and carin
Mr. Kim (voice firm, eyes narrowing): Nia, you need to change your mindset. I have too many enemies. This is the second time you've barely escaped an attack! I've already lost your brother, and now I only have you. I can't afford to lose you too. (His fists tighten as he exhales sharply.)
Nia (turning to Hyung, exasperated): Brother, tell Dad he's overreacting! (She gestures toward Mr. Kim, frustration in her eyes.)
Hyung (calm but serious, arms folded): Nia, try to understand. We lost Mother. Now, we can't lose you too... (His voice softens as he looks at her with concern.)
Min (suddenly appearing, grinning as she pulls Nia away): Hao hao! Nia has agreed now! Nia baby, I made your favorite cake! (She clings to Nia's arm, her playful tone breaking the tension.)
Mr. Kim (watching them go, expression darkening): Have they arrived?
Hyung (nodding but hesitating): Yes, Dad. But is it really necessary to have them as Nia's bodyguards? They are dangerous, highly trained for missions. They're not the type to babysit someone... (His brows furrow as he weighs the risks.)
Mr. Kim (cold, voice low and final): The Moonlight Group is insane for revenge. They'll stop at nothing. Right now, nothing is more important than Nia. Until we crush them and take their power, those men will be her bodyguards. No exceptions. (His sharp gaze flickers with determination.)
In a quiet, misty district of Himachal Pradesh, in a small orphanage called Sparsh Ashram, lived a fragile, gentle girl named Ishara. Her eyes held a quiet innocence, untouched by the harshness of the world, yet shadowed with a deep, unspoken sorrow.
When she was only four, her stepfather-the one who had once called her his life-had left her. He discovered she was the product of her mother's betrayal, and in his heartbreak, he turned away. Since then, Ishara had grown up in the soft, lonely halls of the orphanage, her heart tender, her spirit delicate, carrying a pain that even time could not erase.
At fifteen, she was still small, almost like a fragile bird in a vast, unkind sky-beautiful, innocent, and quietly brave.
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