Nandini Verma was 18 when she penned her first story, a tale of passion, betrayal, and revenge. It was a masterpiece, poised for publication. But on the night she was to share her brilliance with the world, tragedy struck. Her abusive father, a figu...
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The next morning, I got ready after a light breakfast. My outfit was professional yet stylish: a tailored red blazer paired with a crisp white blouse and slim-fit trousers. The colors contrasted sharply, making a bold statement without revealing too much. I styled my hair in loose waves, and opted for minimal makeup—just a hint of liner and a nude lip.
I was a little nervous. YS International was no small thing; it was the biggest, most powerful company, currently holding the top spot in the business world. I had seen pictures of the CEO, Yashwardhan Singhania, and he looked strikingly familiar, reminiscent of the character from my book that haunted my dreams. But I chalked it up to coincidence. After all, many people wore red contact lenses and dyed their hair for fashion.
I had to admit, he was drop-dead handsome—the kind of man girls would swoon over. Yet, I had never heard any gossip about his relationships. Rumor had it that he never glanced at a girl for more than two seconds. He was the mastermind behind the most powerful industry, a genius in his own right. His photos graced the covers of business magazines, projecting an aura of untouchable brilliance.
As I was prepared to leave, a gut feeling told me to stay away from him as much as possible. Maybe it was just my nerves, but something about Yashwardhan unsettled me. It wasn’t like he had powers like the Asura from my nightmares. The name "Asura" still sends shivers down my spine, a haunting reminder of my traumatic past. That night had changed everything for me, all because of my so-called father.
I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering fear. Today was a new beginning, a step towards a brighter future. I had to focus on the opportunity ahead and not let my past overshadow my present.
I reached YS International and was immediately struck by its imposing presence. The building was a sleek monolith of modern architecture, with a black exterior that exuded richness, power, and dominance. Every corner of the structure spoke of wealth and class, a testament to the company's influence.
At the entrance, I met Samantha, who was here with her team of assistant . As we walked in together, I couldn't help but wonder why YS International suddenly wanted to sponsor us. Our worlds were completely different; what could have prompted such a collaboration?
We approached the reception and informed them of our meeting. The receptionist, upon seeing me, quickly stood up, almost as if she was in the presence of her boss. It felt strange, and I couldn't understand why she was treating me with such respect. "The boss is stuck in an important meeting. Would you mind waiting a little in his private waiting area?" she asked politely.
I glanced at Samantha, who gave me a reassuring nod. "Okay, but can you please tell me the way to the waiting area?" I asked.
She described the directions like a map, mentioning it was on the highest floor—69th, to be exact. As we rode the elevator, its transparent glass walls offered a breathtaking view of the city below us. The entire cityscape unfolded beneath our feet, making me feel both exhilarated and nervous.
