AUTHOR POV Working tirelessly on her upcoming project, she poured every ounce of her being into it. Despite the mountain of tasks and looming deadlines, she pressed on—fueled by a mix of passion and unrelenting determination. But beneath that fierce drive, she was exhausted. The long night and early morning had chipped away at her energy, leaving her drained. Still, her mind kept drifting—back to the burned basement. The acrid smell of smoke clung to her memory, the image of charred ruins haunting her thoughts.

Her fingers danced over the keyboard until a knock shattered the silence.

Vivaan stepped in with a tablet in one hand and a file in the other.

“What’s the news, Mehra?” she asked, leaning back in her chair, legs crossed at the knee. Her voice was calm, composed—but the kind of calm that carried danger beneath it.

“Ma’am, the damage is... substantial. All our goods—and the alcohol—completely destroyed. The fire—” he hesitated, eyes dropping to the file.

“VJ.” Only one word, cool and sharp. Her brow arched as her head tilted ever so slightly.

“M-Ma’am, we’re trying b-but—”

“What the hell do you mean by trying?” The calm in her voice vanished, replaced by the fire now blazing in her eyes. Vivaan froze, his breath caught in his throat as she stood from her leather chair, every step toward him slow and predatory.

“I want every single bit of information—within 48 hours. No excuses.”

Her voice echoed in the room. Vivaan bolted out, leaving her alone with the file. She snatched it, flipping through the pages, analyzing every detail with laser focus.

Her fists clenched and unclenched, fury simmering beneath her skin—when suddenly, her ringtone cut through the silence.

She glanced at the caller ID. Her features softened slightly, a crack in her armor. For a moment, uncertainty flickered in her eyes. But her heart won the battle. She cleared her throat before answering.

“Hello, Ma—”

The person on the other end sighed with irritation. “Look, I didn’t call for small talk. Be at the RANA Mansion in 15 minutes—or don’t ever let me see your pathetic face again.”

Before she could respond, the call ended. Her chest tightened, but she didn’t let it show.

AADVIK POV Driving to that fucking house was pushing me to the edge. And now? They decided to drop another bomb.

“Avi, please behave. This alliance could benefit all of us.”

Those words echoed in my head like a curse. I couldn’t say no, not with my parents' expectations weighing on me. Perfect.

The gates of the RANA Mansion loomed ahead—grand, smug, and symbolic of everything I hated.

“So that’s why you’re after this collaboration with RANA.Co. Unbelievable, Dad.”

“AADVIK.” My father’s voice was firm, authoritative. “If you understand that, then stay quiet. Don’t utter a word unless asked. Understood?”

There was affection buried in his tone—but I wasn’t supposed to notice.

The gates opened. The entire Rana family stood waiting.

AUTHOR POV A woman, mid-fifties, stepped forward as Mr. Rathore emerged from his Maybach, straightening his suit with slow, deliberate grace. Without a word, he walked past her—ignoring the fake smile stretched across her face—and instead approached another luxury car that had just arrived. A small smirk curved at the corner of his lips as he opened the door and extended his hand.

A woman stepped out—draped in elegance, every inch of her soaked in luxury. He helped her with practiced ease.

But another woman remained inside, unmoving. Her stillness was regal. The way she sat, the posture—pure power. She didn’t need to move to make a statement.

Mr. Rathore led the first woman—clearly his wife—toward the others.

“Greetings,” she said with a warm but poised smile. “I’m Mrs. Rathore.”

There was something in her voice—graceful, calm—but with an edge of unspoken authority.

She motioned to Aadvik, and he stepped forward with a ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. He walked toward the second car and opened the door, offering his hand to the woman inside.

She accepted it with slow confidence.

Aadvik placed a hand on her lower back as she stepped out, radiant and poised. She wrapped her arm around his, smiling warmly at him—but she didn’t spare a single glance for the others.

As they approached, the entire Rana family stared in disbelief.

“Nice to meet you, daughter… but who are you?” the matriarch asked, her voice laced with polite confusion.

The woman rolled her eyes, her expression unreadable. She looked at Aadvik. He didn’t make eye contact—but gave a subtle nod.

She’s my younger sister, Devika Singh Rathore.”

A stunned silence settled over the Rana family like a sudden shadow. All eyes shifted to Devika, still clutching Aadvik’s arm—not out of affection, but with the effortless elegance of someone born into power.

Mrs. Rana’s practiced smile twitched slightly before she quickly recovered. “Of course... Please, come in.”

The heavy double doors of the mansion opened wider, and the Rathores were escorted inside with the kind of hospitality that dripped more with obligation than warmth.

The marble floors gleamed under the chandeliers, and the hallways reeked of wealth—but Devika didn’t bat an eye. Her gaze swept over the surroundings like she’d seen it all before. She had.

Her disinterest wasn’t rude—it was effortless. Like nothing here could ever faze her.

They were led into the grand living room. Velvet couches, ornate decor, and a row of servants offering tea and sweets. Mr. Rana motioned toward the seats with a half-smile. “Please, make yourselves comfortable.”

Mr. and Mrs. Rathore took their seats with practiced grace. Aadvik sat beside his father. Devika followed, trailing slightly behind, finally taking a spot on the end of the couch—her posture straight, legs crossed, chin high. Cold. Composed. Watching.

She didn’t greet the Ranas. Didn’t smile. Not out of disrespect—she just didn’t see the point.

Mrs. Rana glanced her way and forced a gentle tone. “Devika, we’re so pleased you could come. You’ve grown into a fine young woman.”

Devika tilted her head slowly, her eyes flicking toward the woman.

“I came because I was asked,” she replied flatly, offering no smile in return.

Aadvik let out a low breath through his nose, his jaw tightening. Devika was never one to sugarcoat, especially not in rooms like this.

Trying to ease the tension, Mr. Rathore chuckled faintly. “She may sound blunt, but she’s got a sharp mind. That’s what this generation needs.”

Mr. Rana nodded, though his expression had dulled slightly. “Well, today is important. This alliance, if agreed upon, will change everything for both our families.”

The words dropped heavily between them all.

Devika looked toward the teacup being placed before her, then back up.

“No one’s said what kind of alliance this is yet.”

Everyone paused. Even Mr. Rathore gave her a sharp glance.

She didn’t flinch.

“I don’t like guessing games,” she added, voice steady.

Aadvik cleared his throat, cutting in with a tone that was almost warning. “Devika...”

But she just leaned back, folding her arms loosely.

Mrs. Rana gave a tight smile, clearly trying to mask the growing awkwardness. “We’ll get to the details shortly. For now, let’s all just settle in.”

The meeting was only just beginning—but the air was already thick with unease.

And Devika?

She was just getting started.