The sleek convoy of black luxury cars ascended the winding road to Sinha Manor, its towering gates opening to reveal manicured lawns and a mansion that spoke of old-world power. Inside the cars, the Mehrotra family sat poised, each member reflecting their own intentions for this crucial visit.
Amrita Mehrotra, the matriarch, was her usual composed self, her sharp gaze a silent command for perfection. Beside her sat Vidhita, her face calm but her mind already orchestrating how best to handle the forthcoming exchanges.
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