Ritu Bansal stared at her phone screen, her perfectly manicured fingers trembling. The video playing was her worst nightmare—her own body, naked and writhing under the lights of a cheap hotel room, taken months ago when she thought it was just a private fling. Now it was in the hands of the syndicate. And they had sent her family the link.

Her father, the respected politician Shri Rajesh Bansal, had called her immediately. His voice was shaking with rage and fear. "Ritu, beta, what is this? Tell me it's fake!" Her mother was crying in the background. Her younger brother was silent, shocked.