The roar of the twin—engine Gulfstream G700 tore through the stagnant heat of Kushagarh, a sound of pure, expensive defiance against the quiet landscape.

As the jet stairs lowered, the desert wind whipped at "Aaryav Singh Rathore's charcoal suit, but he didn't blink.

He stepped onto the tarmac, his presence radiating a controlled, quiet fury that made the ground staff instinctively draw back.

He didn't look at the horizon. His eyes were fixed on the tablet in his hand, where glowing red numbers confirmed the impossible: the kushagarh acquisition — a deal he had engineerd with surgical precision for eight months—had collapsed in a single afternoon.

"Boss", his assistant began, voice trembling as he hurried to keep pace with Aaryav's predatory stride."The local authorities......they say the permit was revoked because of a sudden 'environmental discrepancy' filed this morning. The land is frozen."

Aaryav stopped dead. The silence that followed was heavier than the roar of the jet. He looked down at the legal digital signature on the injunction.

It wasn't a firm. It wasn't a rival conglomerate. It was a ghost—a calculated, brilliantly timed strike that had turned his multi- billion rupee venture into a graveyard of paperwork.

"An environmental discrepancy?" Aaryav's voice was a low, dangerous silk. He looked at the sprawling acres of Kushagarh, his jaw tightening,"Someone had the audacity to stand in my way. someone who knew exactly where my armor was thin."

He didn't know her name. He didn't know the face behind the brilliance that had just outmaneuverd a Rathore. But as he crushed the tablet's screen. With the sheer pressure of his thumb, a dark, lethal curiosity spark in his eyes.

"Find out who did this." He commanded, his gaze turning towards the city. " I want to see the person who thinks they are brave enough to ruin me."