--- Clouds of Arrogance / غرور کے بادل Ghuroor Ke Badal ---
Rohan Lashari, heir to a powerful political dynasty, is accustomed to a life of privilege. His father Mir Lashari, a veteran politician, shields him from the repercussions of his rec...
As Rohan exited the country club, lost in his thoughts about the weight of everything happening in his life, he barely noticed his surroundings. His mind was a storm—his father's anger, the guilt gnawing at him, the pressure to keep everything under control. He wasn't paying attention when he collided with someone coming from the opposite direction.
"Whoa!" Rohan exclaimed in frustration, feeling the cold splash of juice against his shirt. His phone slipped from his grasp, clattering to the ground. "What the hell!"
He glanced up, anger flashing in his green emerald eyes as he surveyed the girl who had bumped into him. She was dressed in a simple yet elegant shalwar kameez, with a dupatta draped over her head. Her brown eyes, wide with surprise, looked up at him, apologetic. Next to her stood another girl in more modern, Western attire—open hair, stylish, confident.
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"I'm sorry," the girl in shalwar kameez, Meher, said softly, her voice laced with genuine regret. She bent down to pick up his phone, but before she could hand it to him, Rohan rudely snatched it from the ground, glaring at her.
Rohan's gaze swept over her, his mind still clouded with his own problems. He looked at her from head to toe with disdain, barely registering her apology. His eyes, a sharp contrast to her soft brown ones, burned with irritation. He wiped his shirt roughly, muttering under his breath, "You should watch where you're going."
Meher blinked, taken aback by his coldness, but before she could say anything else, Rohan had already walked past her, not bothering to acknowledge her further. His thoughts were elsewhere—far too consumed by the chaos of his own world to care about an accidental spill or a simple apology.
As he stormed away, Meher stood there for a moment, her heart racing from the unexpected encounter. Anger flared in her eyes. "Another arrogant rich guy who thinks the world revolves around him, I had told you I didn't want to come here..huufff."
Mehe, her gaze lingered on Rohan's retreating figure. She couldn't shake the intensity of the moment—the way his green eyes had pierced through her for just a split second, the disdain in his voice, oh how much she hated rich people.
—------------------------------
As Mir Lashari entered his mansion, his footsteps heavy with frustration, he scanned the room for any sign of Rohan. Not seeing him, his expression darkened, and he called out, "Where's Rohan?"
Zahra, who had been quietly tending to something in the corner of the room, approached him. Sensing his mood, she spoke calmly, "He went out."
Mir's face immediately turned from frustration to anger. "Zahra, I told you not to let him go out! After everything that's happened, we can't afford to have him running around as if nothing is wrong!" His voice was sharp, laced with the kind of authority that commanded attention.
