BOOK 1 - 𝑨 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒃𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓.
𔓘 Can be read as a Standalone.
Yuvan Singhania was power draped in darkness-a billionaire heir with blood-stained secrets buried beneath tailored suits and ruthless...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Varenya's POV
As the hours slipped by and the meeting drew closer, the knot in my stomach tightened with every passing minute. I had gone over the presentation so many times that I could practically recite every slide with my eyes closed, yet the anxiety refused to leave.
This wasn't just another assignment.
This was my first opportunity to prove that I deserved the position I'd worked so hard to earn.
My fingers tightened around the presentation remote as I stood outside the conference room. Taking one last deep breath, I silently repeated the opening lines to myself.
You've prepared for this.
You've got this.
When the doors opened, I stepped inside.
The conference room was larger than I'd imagined-sleek glass walls, polished oak flooring, and a long mahogany table stretching through the center like the spine of the room. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, reflecting off the projector screen that waited silently at the front.
One by one, the CEO, the board members, senior executives, department heads, and investors settled into their seats. Low conversations drifted through the room before fading into an uneasy silence. The only sounds left were the soft tapping of laptop keys, the occasional shuffle of documents, and the quiet hum of the air conditioner.
Every heartbeat echoed loudly in my ears.
This was my first opportunity to speak in front of the people who could help to climb a step towards the success.
Slowly, I rose from my chair, dozens of eyes followed me.
Some curious.
Some skeptical.
Some are simply waiting for me to make a mistake.
Ignoring the weight of their gazes, I walked toward the projector with measured steps. My heels clicked softly against the wooden floor, each sound amplifying the silence inside the room. Stopping beside the screen and looking around. The lights dimmed slightly.
I turned to face the room.
The atmosphere felt heavy, professional, and demanding.
My eyes instinctively searched for one person.
He was already there.
At the head of the table sat Mr. Singhania.
Calm.
Unreadable.
Without saying a single word, he had everyone's attention.
His posture was relaxed, one hand resting against the armrest while the other lazily flipped through a file. His sharp eyes lifted for a brief second, meeting mine before returning to the papers, as if silently reminding me that this room expected nothing less than perfection.
