One morning, Arahan and Sabiha arrived together at Anisha's official residence, carrying two large black rifle cases between them. The security detail let them through without question, by now, the visits had become routine.
Anisha received them in her private study again, the same heavy teak door closed behind them. She wore a deep maroon saree today, the pallu draped modestly, but the silk clung a little too tightly across her breasts, betraying the quick rise and fall of her breathing the moment Arahan stepped inside.
Sabiha placed the cases on the desk with a polite smile.
"Today we have the suppressed DMR variant and the compact PDW you requested," she said smoothly. "Arahan will demonstrate the key features."
