AUTHOR POV

Veer stepped into Awasthi Sadan, the rain clinging to his broad shoulders, droplets trailing down the sharp line of his jaw before vanishing into the damp fabric of his shirt. The storm had delayed him—his car stuck in the swelling, waterlogged streets—but nothing could deter his stride now. He moved with the same commanding presence he always carried, each step measured, steady, as though the storm itself bowed away from his balance.