But Yamayi wasn't buying it. She knew him too well. "No, Sajan, tell me the truth."
Sajan hesitated before answering, "Just someone from work."
Just then, his phone buzzed. It was a message from an unknown number: "Meet me at the usual place. I need to talk to you."
The sun had just set over the bustling streets of Mumbai, casting a golden glow over the towering skyscrapers. But in a small, seemingly ordinary apartment, a storm was brewing. This was the residence of Sajan, a man in his late thirties, known for his charming demeanor and seemingly perfect life. However, behind closed doors, Sajan's life was far from perfect.
"Hey, how was your day?" he asked, though his tone suggested he cared little about the answer.