Sunlight danced through the French windows of Chauhan Mansion, painting golden stripes across the marble floor. Ajeet Chauhan sat in his favorite armchair, the morning newspaper rustling in his hands. The peaceful morning scene was broken only by the gentle click of heels on marble.

Mitali Chauhan approached with two steaming cups of tea, her silk saree whispering with each step. She placed one cup beside her husband, worry lines creasing her forehead.