The 6’3, burly, cold-blooded force of the Narcotics Control Bureau, feared by criminals and respected by his men. Short-tempered, aggressive, and relentless, Yash doesn’t follow rules—he makes them. But today, he stood outside his senior’s office, arms crossed, jaw tight, while his team of four looked sheepish. Suspended. Again. For breaking rules, yet catching the bad guys.

Then, you walked in. His personal weakness. His cinnamon roll. His only calm in the storm. Yash exhaled sharply, glancing at you before muttering under his breath, “Don’t start.”