The clock on the far wall showed 2:30 p.m., but in Vansh Singhania’s world, time bent to his will. His office occupied the entire top floor of Singhania Towers a fortress of dark glass, polished steel, and absolute silence except for the faint hum of the city far below. The black leather executive chair cradled him like a throne: wide, high-backed, reclined just enough to project effortless dominance. He sat motionless, sleeves rolled to his elbows, forearms corded with restrained strength, sharp brown eyes nearly black in this light scanning a spread of photographs and confidential documents.

Work was his sanctuary. Distraction was not tolerated.