The Rajvanshi cavalcade stormed through the morning mist like a royal procession reclaiming its lost empire.
At the center of it all, cloaked in black steel and silence, was the royal SUV. Behind its wheel sat Aayansh Rajvanshi—cold, composed, a monarch in exile who’d never surrendered. His face was an unreadable mask of marble, but his eyes—those eyes—held the weight of an unspoken tempest.
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