The conference room door clicked shut behind him, but the echo lingered like a dare. Shaurya left.
Aarya stood there, unmoving, her eyes still on the folder he'd left behind. The logo embossed on its surface wasn't Karan's. It was neutral. Clean. Almost too clean.
She finally reached for it, flipping it open.
Spreadsheets. Memos. Internal emails. It was everything—every backchannel conversation Karan had been pushing about the "merger"—a thinly veiled plan to dismantle what remained of Verma Industries and distribute it among a web of shell companies.
All signed off by familiar names. Names Aarya once trusted.
After giving the documents to Aarya, Shaurya found himself standing outside her office building. He hadn't planned to stay here, but somehow, his feet remained stuck to the ground.
He stood in the shadows, watching her through the glass. Aarya Verma, the woman he had sworn to destroy. She was sitting at her desk, eyes fixed on her computer screen, seemingly lost in her world. But there was something about her posture, the way she held herself, that made his chest tighten.
She wasn't broken.
She wasn't ruthless.
She was fighting. Alone.
For a moment, Shaurya considered walking away. He didn't need to be here. She wasn't his concern. But something pulled at him, like a thread connecting them. he stood still.
Instead, he did the only thing that felt natural—he waited.
Aarya's phone rang, cutting through the silence of the office. Her voice, soft but commanding, filled the air as she answered it. Shaurya's eyes still on her. She paused, then laughed lightly—something soft and real. Not the icy persona she wore in public.
His heart skipped a beat at the view of it as it was the first time he saw her smiling heartily and not the professional one.
After a few more moments, she hung up and stood, stretching her arms above her head. Shaurya watched as she moved around the room, picking up papers and organizing her desk. She was no longer the powerful woman he'd seen at the gala or the cold, calculating businesswoman in the boardroom. There was something else in her—the vulnerability of a woman trying to rebuild something, something far more personal.
And as he watched, something inside him shifted.
What if she wasn't the villain?
What if the story he'd been fed his whole life—the one where her father was the monster and she was the spoiled heiress inheriting his sins—wasn't the truth at all?
What if she was framed, just like her company was being gutted?
Shaurya leaned against the wall, unseen but completely disarmed. The bitterness he'd carried, the fury he'd nursed… it suddenly felt misdirected. Fragile.
He didn't know if he believed in her.
But for the first time, he wasn't so sure he believed in the version of her he had built in his mind.
----
Her breath caught.
"Rat snakes," she whispered, tracing one signature with a manicured nail. "Every last one of them."
The door opened again, making her snap the folder shut.
Janhavi entered, her eyes sharp. "Did I just see Shaurya Singh walking out of here like he owned the place?"
Aarya raised an eyebrow. "He's still testing the waters."
"With files now? Are we calling that foreplay or espionage?"
A smirk pulled at Aarya's lips, but it didn't quite land. "He gave me documents on Karan's merger scheme. Real ones. With names we need to take down."
Janhavi blinked. "And you believe him?"
"I don't know," Aarya admitted. "But if this is some elaborate trap, it's a damn convincing one."
Janhavi folded her arms. "You think he's trying to help?"
"I think," Aarya said slowly, "that he's trying to figure out whose side he's really on."
----
Later that evening, the war room was alive again.
That's what they called it now—Aarya's study, once filled with nostalgic books and perfume samples, now rebranded with whiteboards, timelines, and classified files. Every thread of Karan's empire was pinned and cross-referenced.
And now, Shaurya's folder sat at the center.
"You realize," Janhavi said as she leaned over one of the boards, "if this is legit, we have a shot at pulling some board members back. Especially Maheshwari and D'Costa. They've hated Karan's aggressive moves."
"And they hate being exposed more," Aarya said, already drafting an anonymous leak to a financial blog. "We leak this, even a little, and Karan starts scrambling."
Janhavi looked at her. "And Shaurya?"
"What about him?"
"He handed you a match. What are you going to do with it?"
Aarya didn't answer.
Because she didn't know.
----
The following morning, Verma Towers buzzed with rumors. Something had been leaked—emails from top board members discussing questionable terms. While no names were directly tied to the exposure, the tension in the hallways was palpable.
Karan hadn't shown up yet.
But his assistant had.
And she was angry.
"Ms. Verma," the woman snapped, storming into Aarya's office without knocking, "this anonymous leak—your doing?"
Aarya looked up, calm. "Why would I leak information I don't even have access to?"
The woman's eyes narrowed. "You think you're clever. But you've just started a war."
"No," Aarya said, standing. "Karan started a war when he forged signatures and sold off legacy shares behind my father's back. I'm just playing catch-up."
The assistant stormed out.
Janhavi peeked in from the adjoining office. "That went well."
Aarya allowed herself a smile. "Round one."
----
Later that night, a sleek black envelope was slipped under her penthouse door.
No name. Just a wax seal—red, stamped with a single S.
She opened it carefully.
Inside was a note:
"Truth makes a poor shield. Lies make better weapons. Choose wisely, Aarya."
–S
No number. No contact. No context.
But she didn't need it.
Shaurya.
He was taunting her. Warning her. Guiding her?
All three?
Aarya leaned back against the door, eyes closing for a second as the weight of the message sank in.
This wasn't just about revenge anymore.
This was a game of edges.
And one wrong move could mean everything.