The Crystal chandeliers bathed the room in golden light, casting reflections across the marble floor. Elegant guests floated through the space like they belonged on magazine covers, while music pulsed low in the background. Glasses clinked, laughter echoed, and eyes followed one particular man-Shaurvik Shekhawat.

He stood near the bar, dressed in a crisp black suit, posture straight and still. His presence didn't beg for attention-it commanded it. The kind of man people looked at before realizing they'd stopped breathing.