
It was a dark, silent night in Udaipur. Though most of the city had fallen asleep, the highway remained alive with the echo of roaring engines. Heavy trucks, cargo vehicles, and baby loaders rushed by at top speed—the screech of tires cutting through the stillness like whispers of a city that never truly sleeps.
Amongst the line of massive vehicles was a striking luxury car, its very presence announcing royalty. Sleek, majestic, and worth a fortune, it glided through traffic like it belonged to a different world. Inside sat a man—27 years old, or better described as a man who looked like he walked straight out of a myth. His long, silky hair was tied into a neat bun, and his chiseled arms looked like they were sculpted by the gods themselves. One look at him, and any woman would forget to breathe.

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