
The big black car stops in front of the Rajvanshi mansion. The iron gates are already open. Guards stand on both sides, straight and silent. The evening air feels heavy, as if even the wind knows something important is happening
Inside the car, Samaira sits quietly for a second. Her fingers are tightly wrapped around Vivan’s hand. His hand is warm, firm, and strong. He does not loosen his grip even for a moment.








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