"Lost in his love, she made him her world, where everything else faded into insignificance"
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Kriti Singhania, reluctantly returns to her homeland to fulfill her father's wish of becoming the CEO of his company. However, her life takes an unexpected...
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Author's POV~
Her leather skirt clung to her legs, the tank top revealing just enough to catch attention, though she cared little for appearances tonight.
Kriti’s grip on the steering wheel was tight, her knuckles pale against her skin.
She had planned this meticulously, every step accounted for.
After all, how could she stay away when the man she loved was about to marry someone else?
The car screeched to a halt in front of the sprawling mansion. Kriti stepped out, her heels clicking sharply.
Her breath hitched as she pushed open the heavy front door and stepped inside.
She climbed the grand staircase, her footsteps echoing in the silence.
The corridor stretched before her like a tunnel, dark and unending. She didn’t hesitate.
With a huff, she entered the passcode, the soft beep and click of the lock breaking the silence. She pushed the door open, stepping inside as the darkness swallowed her whole.
A smirk crept onto her lips.
She had access to everything, Aayansh’s property, secrets, and power.
The cameras blinked red, their lenses following her every move, silently recording as she stepped into the darkness.
Reaching the desk, she let her fingers trail over its cluttered surface.
A low chuckle escaped her lips as she reached for the gun lying on the desk, her fingers wrapping around its grip. Her gaze then shifted to the shattered glass on the far side of the room, the pieces scattered like broken promises.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
The morning was chaos.
Kriti woke with a start, her heart heavy with the truth, Aayansh was getting married today. The thought lingered like a bitter taste, but in her mind, it wasn’t the end.
As Kriti freshened up and sat down for breakfast, the calm morning was broken by the ping of the doorbell.
“I’ll check,” she said to her mother before rising from the table.
She opened the door to find a man standing there, holding a large box in his hands. He looked at her and asked, “Are you Ms. Kriti?”
Kriti nodded, still half-surprised by the unexpected delivery.
Without another word, he handed her the box and simply said, “Mr. Malhotra sent this for you,” before turning and walking away.
Kriti closed the door and carried the box inside, her curiosity piqued.
