Mumbai . midnight .
A black Mercedes stops in front of a posh bungalow in Bandra. On the gate, a board reads:
"Aarav Khanna — Superstar. Private Property. No Trespassing."
The driver sits still for a few seconds after turning off the ignition. Then, he opens the glove compartment and takes out a sealed envelope.
Empty road. Silence.
He slips the letter through the gate. Then reverses the car and drives away without a sound... as if nothing ever happened.
---
Next Morning
Aarav Khanna — Bollywood's golden boy — walks in fresh from the gym and sits at the breakfast table. His PA hands him the envelope that was found inside the gate.
Aarav (laughs): "It's probably a fan letter. Here we go again — the pain of love returns."
He opens the envelope. And then — his face changes.
A small note. Written in red ink:
> "Your account has been written.
— L.B."*
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Cut to: Tihar Jail, Delhi.
A narrow frame reveals a man. Lakshya Bishra. Black kurta, bearded face, and eyes like an ocean of darkness.
The TV plays a news report: