Janvi, a 22-year-old married woman, was a vision that stopped hearts and stirred sinful thoughts. She was beautiful in a way that seemed almost unfair—a face of delicate innocence with large, soulful eyes, a full, pouty mouth, and skin like polished honey. But her beauty was eclipsed by her body, a body that seemed to defy the modest confines of village life. She had big, milky, heavy breasts that strained against the fabric of her blouse, their weight and fullness visible even under the drape of her saree. Her waist was narrow, leading down to a firm, tight ass that swayed with a hypnotic rhythm as she walked, the curve of it outlined perfectly by her saree and petticoat, giving passerby men a glimpse of paradise they couldn't help but stare at. She was a magnet for male attention, a silent torment for every man who saw her and knew she belonged to another.