The grand Singhania Mansion was eerily silent, yet an undercurrent of stormy tension lingered in the air. Richa Singhania paced across her lavish room, her manicured nails tapping furiously against her phone screen as she sifted through information. Her blood boiled at the mere thought of Amaira Malhotra.
"That wretched girl humiliated me... slapped me, not once but twice," Richa gritted out, eyes narrowing as her private investigator handed her a file. She flipped it open-inside were details of Amaira's life, her friends, her family, her routine.
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