The dimly lit room reeked of stale smoke and cheap whiskey, the air thick with the tension of a high-stakes card game that had just gone horribly wrong for old man Raju. His weathered face twisted in a mix of regret and twisted excitement as he stared at his 18-year-old granddaughter, Priya, sitting nervously on the edge of the worn-out couch. She was the picture of innocence—long black hair cascading down her back, her simple salwar kameez hugging her budding curves, her wide doe eyes flickering with confusion. Raju had lost big tonight; the pot included his prized watch, some cash, and worst of all, Priya's 'services' for the night to his seven roughneck buddies, all in their late 60s like him, grizzled men from the neighborhood who'd been drinking and leering all evening.