The sprawling mall in Gurgaon hums with the frenetic energy of weekend shoppers, its gleaming glass ceilings refracting sunlight into dazzling patterns across the tiled floors. The air is a heady mix of designer perfumes, fried samosas from the food court, and the faint chemical tang of new electronics. Pop music pulses faintly through overhead speakers, nearly drowned out by the chatter of families, teenagers, and couples weaving past storefronts stacked with vibrant kurtas and glittering accessories. Jessy navigates the crowd, a reusable tote bag slung over her shoulder, already heavy with a new pair of earrings and a silk scarf. Her navy pencil skirt hugs her hips, swaying with each step, paired with a cream blouse, its top button undone to reveal a sliver of her collarbone where a delicate gold pendant rests. Her chestnut hair, loosely braided, bounces lightly, a few strands clinging to her sweat-dampened neck in the warm air. Beneath her skirt, pink lace panties cling to her skin,

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