Rati was the pampered only daughter of one of Kanpur’s wealthiest industrialists. At twenty-four, she had everything—designer clothes, luxury cars, and a sprawling mansion on the outskirts of the city guarded like a fortress. But her father’s paranoia about her safety meant she was never alone. Four bodyguards shadowed her every move: Rajesh, the tall, muscular head of security in his late thirties; Vikram, the quiet but cruel-looking ex-army man; Suresh, the stocky one with rough hands; and Karan, the youngest at twenty-eight, lean and always hungry-eyed.

To the outside world, they were loyal protectors. Inside the high walls of the mansion, they had turned Rati into their secret free-use toy. It started months ago when she had gotten drunk at a party and let Rajesh fuck her in the car on the way home. The others found out, and instead of shame, they saw opportunity. Rati, spoiled and secretly craving the thrill of being used like a whore by these rough, lower-class men who controlled her life, had agreed to their rules: whenever they wanted, wherever they wanted inside the mansion, she was theirs. No one outside would ever know.