The view from the 39th floor was brutal, ice-sharp skyline stretching across Lake Michigan. Inside, the room was all walnut and steel. Quiet, efficient. Legacy.
Daniyal Khan sat at the head of the long table, flanked by his CFO and head legal advisor. His sleeves were rolled up, and a folder of projected acquisition targets lay open in front of him. His beard was trimmed now. His suits custom-tailored. There was no trace of the man who once biked to a suburban clinic in Bendigo to pick up prenatal vitamins.
He was back. But not whole.
A soft knock interrupted the meeting.
His assistant stepped in, hesitant. "Sir... someone's been trying to reach you. From overseas. Says it's urgent."
Dan's brow furrowed. "Who?"
She glanced at the slip. "Imran... last name Yousef. Pakistani number."
Dan leaned back in his chair, jaw tightening. He already knew the name.
"Tell him I'm unavailable," he said.
"But he's called three times. Left a number and a message. Something about Miss Diwan and... Mr. Isfahani."
Dan's lips thinned.
"I'm unavailable," he repeated. "Permanently."
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Imran ended the call and set the phone down slowly.
"He's not in Bendigo anymore," he said. "He's in the U.S. Running his family's operations again. Rebuilt himself."
Talal arched an eyebrow. "And?"
"And he's not interested. Didn't take the call. Sent a message through his assistant."
"What did it say?"
Imran hesitated. Then: "'I buried that part of my life. Don't dig it up.'"
Talal exhaled through his nose, half amusement, half irritation. "So the lover has morals."
Imran was quiet.
Talal stood, walked to the window. The Karachi skyline was grey and slick with heat haze.
"He'll change his mind."
"He won't," Imran said softly. "He doesn't want revenge. He wants distance. And silence."
Talal turned sharply. "Then make it louder."
Imran frowned. "You want to leak more?"
"I want to ruin the silence he's clinging to. Leak the footage from the hospital in Bendigo. The photo of them walking out together."
"But that doesn't hurt Mustafa."
"No," Talal said, voice low and dangerous. "It hurts Feef. And through her, it will bleed into Mustafa's campaign. If I can't turn Dan into a weapon, I'll turn him into a scandal."
And so it began-quietly, almost innocently.
A low resolution photo surfaced on a local gossip forum: Afifa Diwan stepping out of an OBGYN clinic in Bendigo. The man beside her? Daniyal Khan, the son of a famous industrialist: Mansoor Khan.
The date stamp said enough.
"Six months ago. Before she married Mustafa Isfahani."
Within hours, the image found its way to Pakistani Twitter. Then Instagram. Then the major media outlets. The hashtags trended by noon:
#AfifaDiwanScandal
#WhoseChild
#FakeMarriage?
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ChickLit"I..I nee..d to leave," she said trembling trying really hard to hide her fear as he inched closer towards her. He cut the phone call and an unknown emotion flashed in his eyes before it was masked away. "I... I did..not... see anything, ple...ase...
