THE DECEIT - CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 1
SIMRAN
NEW YORK (An Hour Ago)
I grip the steering wheel tighter, my knuckles turning white as I drive through the dark streets of New York. The soft music playing in my car does little to calm my frayed nerves. It’s late—around half past two—and the usual bustling streets are now deserted. My phone lies on the passenger seat, and I glance at it to check for any messages from Claire, my housekeeper. Thankfully, there are none. Good. At least things are quiet at home. I had informed her I’d be late tonight.
New York City has always had a way of making me feel alive. The city lights, its vibrant energy, and the endless possibilities exhilarate me. But tonight, as I drive back home after winning the Best Designer Award at a prestigious event, an unsettling feeling gnaws at me. The award ceremony was grand and exciting, yet I skipped the after-party. Something in me just wanted to get home.
The city that never sleeps seems oddly quiet tonight. The usual hustle-bustle of New York has faded to a whisper, leaving an eerie stillness in its wake. I’ve been living here for eighteen months now, chasing my dream of expanding my fashion brand beyond India. On most nights, I revel in the energy of this place. But tonight… Tonight feels different.
As I approach a turn, I check my rearview mirror, a habit born from years of city driving. That’s when I see it: a black sedan, some distance behind me. I immediately try to shrug off the unease creeping up my spine. It’s probably nothing, I tell myself. Just another late-night driver heading home.
I take the turn, and the sedan follows. I tell myself it’s just a coincidence; New York’s a big city, after all. But when I turn again and see the sedan doing the same, the first tendrils of real fear begin to wrap around my heart.
This feeling... it’s not new. For the past two weeks, I’ve had this nagging sensation of being watched. It all started at the mall—a slight prickle at the back of my neck that I casually brushed off. Then came the anonymous message on my phone: “My eyes are on you.”