Every story begins somewhere. Here’s where Sentenced: TO YOU begins. 👀⚖️

Sentenced: TO YOU is my first proper murder mystery—set inside a courtroom, tangled in impossible choices, and a love story that refuses to stay where it was left. And today, I get to share your very first glimpse into Shaurya & Josephine’s world.

Below is the official prologue reveal of Sentenced: TO YOU—a story about ex-lovers, a murder trial, and feelings that never really learned how to leave.

Prologue 

Josephine

An annual Arts & Education Scholarship Gala was underway at The Imperial, New Delhi.

My mother, Jennifer Kapoor—wife of renowned lawyer Sujoy Kapoor—was the patron of the night.

A former actress who had stepped away from films after marriage, she had since reinvented herself as a socialite firmly embedded in Delhi’s elite circles. Her history with cinema ensured celebrity attendance, while my father’s clout curated an audience powerful enough to matter beyond camera flashes.

Years of cosmetic precision kept her face flawless, though the stiffness around her smile betrayed how carefully it had been preserved. My father stood beside her, greeting guests with practiced charm.

Freshly cleared of a professional inquiry—one that had briefly threatened to stain his reputation before dissolving quietly under influence and persuasion—he was once again milking the limelight, smoothing over the creases the past few years had etched into his career.

Typical.

Josephine watched her parents from across the hall, unimpressed. Though bound to them by blood, she felt no sense of belonging with them. From a young age, whispers and sideways glances had made her aware of the truth others spoke freely behind closed doors—that her mother had once been involved with a married man, that Josephine herself had been born into scandal before legitimacy followed later.

It wasn’t the affair that defined them for me.

It was who they were—ego-driven. Performative. Manipulative.

Love, in their world, was transactional. Care was extended only when it served appearances. Unlike Jia Di, who still believed in the warmth they occasionally offered, I had learned to see through it. Their lives revolved inward; any gesture of responsibility existed only to soothe their own conscience. They had made it remarkably easy to dislike them.

So why was I here?

Because tonight wasn’t about them. This fundraiser supported underprivileged children with exceptional talent in arts and academics. I served as one of its trustees—there to ensure the money raised reached the right hands instead of disappearing into glossy brochures and hollow promises. If I had to use my parents’ reach to do something meaningful, so be it. 

A familiar fragrance reached her from behind—slow, unmistakable. One she had tried—and failed—to erase from memory. A scent once synonymous with comfort, now leaving a hollow ache in its wake.

She turned, a quiet awareness already telling her who was approaching. Green eyes would meet her brown eyes, framed by her glasses. He was still a few steps away, moving with the unhurried confidence she remembered all too well. His face was unreadable.

Always had been.

For an actor who earned his living through emotion, he carried very little of it in real life. His presence relied on something else entirely—control. Stillness. Authority that required no embellishment. The kind of alpha energy audiences adored without fully understanding why.

Shaurya Singhania.

Bollywood heartthrob.

And once—disastrously—mine.

At six feet tall, with a physique honed by discipline and a face sculpted to devastating effect, he drew attention effortlessly. But it wasn’t just his looks that made people turn. It was the gravity he carried—the restrained intensity that followed him everywhere.

Minimal with words. Measured in movement.

His silence had always done the most damage.

And I, of all people, knew how deeply it could cut.

It had been two years since our breakup. Two years since his gaze had rested on me like this—slow, assessing, unguarded. Despite shared friends and overlapping circles, we had somehow avoided occupying the same space. Until now.

She had walked away.

He hadn’t chased.

The truth still sat heavy in his chest.

Wanting different things from life hadn’t erased the pull he felt now, standing this close. It hadn’t dulled the urge to provoke her, to disturb the polite composure she wore like armor whenever he was near.

He hated that version of Josephine.

He preferred her fire. Her defiance had always been his adrenaline.

He stopped only when he was fully in her space. At six feet, his frame eclipsed her barely five-foot presence.

“Long time, Singhania,” Josephine said, smiling as though he were nothing more than an old acquaintance.

“Indeed, Lawyer Sahiba,” he replied, the title laced with sugary precision.

Her gaze flickered, irritation flashing beneath the lenses. His lips curved into a knowing smirk.

That nickname—once intimate, now intrusive—still worked its way under my skin.

“Stop calling me that,” she said sharply.

Shaurya tilted his head. “Calm has never been your armor. So why pretend?”

“Because I believe in being civil with my ex,” she countered, folding her arms behind her back, her stance defiant.

His smile deepened.

“Even when your heart wants to wrap around my warmth,” he murmured, “and your mind wants to throw daggers at my three-piece perfection?”

Her gaze seared hot for a second before she looked away. Heat crept up her cheeks before she could stop it.

Not embarrassment.

Annoyance.

The kind that came from being seen too clearly.

“That’s because you haven’t changed,” Shaurya said quietly, as if answering her thoughts. “And it doesn’t seem like you ever will.”

The last line was meant for himself more than her.

A memory surfaced unbidden—his voice, lower but unyielding, from the night everything fractured.

“Relationships aren’t the fairytale you keep protecting,” he said quietly.“They’re flawed. Messy. Built on compromises.”

His gaze held hers steadily.

“The day you stop expecting perfection… you’ll understand that.”

Josephine held his gaze for a beat longer than necessary. Then she smiled—the kind that comes when hope quietly gives way to acceptance. 

That was their last meeting. After that, time simply carried them in different directions. Yet the silence between them now pulsed with something unresolved. Years had moved, lives had shifted—but whatever lived between them had not learned how to die quietly.

“Ah. Who do we have here?”

The icy drawl cut through the moment.

Sheetal Khanna slid an arm around Shaurya’s bicep, pressing herself into him as her eyes assessed Josephine with open disdain.

“You still haven’t gotten rid of those stupid glasses, have you? What a pity.”

Josephine waited, unfazed, letting Sheetal exhaust herself first.

“Are you two on talking terms now?” Sheetal continued. “I thought the breakup ruined you forever.”

Josephine glanced at Shaurya, her smirk unmistakably mocking his choice. His answering smirk only fueled Sheetal’s irritation.

“I heard you’re dating that lawyer, Roshan Kundra,” Sheetal added, her voice sharpening. “Is that true?”

Josephine didn’t miss a beat. “Why? Planning to sleep with him too?”

Sheetal stiffened. Shaurya almost smiled.

“I’m afraid my time is too valuable to waste here,” Josephine said calmly before disappearing into the crowd.

“Bitch,” Sheetal snapped after her.

“You asked for it,” Shaurya muttered, his gaze following Josephine’s retreating form.

Sheetal stepped in front of him, blocking his view. “She’s moved on, Shaurya. It’s time you did too.”

He said nothing. But the truth lingered in his eyes—unspoken, unacknowledged. And Sheetal hated it. She walked away, stung.

Across the room, Shaurya’s gaze met Josephine’s one last time. A moment lingered—heavy, unfinished.

Then she turned away.

The crowd closed in around him again, loud and glittering. And for the first time that night, Shaurya felt unmistakably alone.

******

So… that was your first glimpse into the world of Sentenced: TO YOU. 👀

I’d love to know your first thoughts, theories, suspicions, or simply the one line that stayed with you most. Because trust me—this story has only just begun. ⚖️🖤

If you’d like to meet Shaurya & Josephine sooner, preorders for Sentenced: TO YOU are now LIVE 🤍

Preorder Now: https://www.amazon.in/dp/B0GX2TLYHT

PS: AI images used