The heavy oak doors of Rajveer’s study swing open as Prithvi and Arjun stride inside, their presence immediately thickening the air with tension. Rajveer and Reyansh are already seated, deep in discussion, but they pause as their cousins step in. The weight of the situation lingers in the room, unspoken yet undeniable.

Prithvi’s hands clench into fists. “Mil gaya voh haramkhor,” he announces, his voice laced with venom. (We found that bastard.) His jaw is tight, and the sheer rage in his stance speaks volumes.