Omar Siddiqui stood near the bar at the lavish party, holding a glass of whiskey, his gaze scanning the room with the practiced detachment he had perfected over the years. It was one of those nights he was all too familiar with—the loud chatter, clinking glasses, and forced laughter that filled the air. He had attended countless events like this, networking with the right people, ensuring that his place in the business world remained secure. He took a sip from his glass, savoring the burn as it slid down his throat.
The party was in full swing, and Omar was the center of attention, as usual. Faraaz had done well organizing the celebration, bringing together important clients and potential partners. Omar knew how to play this game; he’d been doing it for years now. But tonight, for the first time, something unsettling gnawed at him—the absence of Aisha.
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