“You are a shame to your parents!

A disgrace to society!

You’ll never amount to anything!”

Ananya snapped her eyes open, her body drenched in sweat. The dream of her past—the accusations, the fear, the relentless judgment—was still hunting her, clutching at her heart even now. Her chest heaved, her fingers trembling as she tried to shake off the remnants of that nightmare.

She took a deep breath, centering herself, forcing the panic to ebb away. Her gaze wandered to her side, but as usual, it was empty. A small, bitter smile tugged at her lips. She shook her head, pushed herself off the bed, and moved towards the washroom to get ready for the day ahead.

Emerging from the bathroom, she was a vision in a stunning red silk saree, the fabric shimmering under the morning light. Intricate golden embroidery traced delicate patterns along the border, catching the glow like tiny flames. The pallu was draped elegantly over her shoulder, flowing down with graceful ease. She stood before the mirror, carefully drying her hair, each stroke releasing her tension bit by bit.

Once her hair was tamed, she reached for the sindoor. Taking a small amount between her fingers, she traced it along her hairline, the act grounding her, a silent promise to herself and to the life she now led. She then lifted her nuptial chain—the symbol of her marriage—and carefully fastened it around her neck. For a moment, she studied her reflection: composed, radiant, and unyielding. Satisfied, she straightened her posture and stepped out of the room.

The house was unusually quiet as she descended the stairs. Her eyebrows knit in confusion, and she opened her mouth to call for one of the maids when suddenly a chorus of voices rang out:

“Happy Anniversary, Bhabhiii!!!”

Ananya spun around, and a bright smile broke across her face. Rohan and Sanya stood there with party poppers in hand, grins stretching from ear to ear.

“Bhabhi, you look amazing!” Sanya exclaimed, giggling. “That saree should be in a magazine cover shoot!”

Rohan waved his popper in mock triumph. “And here I was worried Bhai would forget again this year. But don’t worry, we won’t let him slack.”

Ananya chuckled, shaking her head. “You two are impossible.” She glanced around. “By the way… where’s Devansh?”

“As usual,” Rohan said, raising an eyebrow, “he’s in his gym, Bhabhi. Can’t miss his daily obsession with muscles and sweat!”

Sanya burst out laughing. “Honestly, bhai is such a gymbo".

Ananya laughed, “Alright, I’m going to call him. You two go, get ready—we’re getting late for the Pooja.”

Rohan and Sanya grinned and nodded. “Yes, Bhabhi!” they chorused before rushing off to their rooms.

Ananya straightened her saree and headed towards the gym.

Inside, Devansh was doing pushups effortlessly, muscles rippling under his bare chest—well-defined pecs and sharp abs flexing with each motion, a perfect picture of control and discipline. Ananya stopped for a moment, letting herself admire him before quickly shaking her head, embarrassed.

She snapped out of her thoughts when a presence appeared before her. Devansh stood there, arms folded, his gaze fixed on her. Ananya looked away, fumbling silently for words.

“Good morning,” Devansh said, his voice calm yet commanding.

“Good morning,” Ananya replied, giving him a polite smile.

His eyes lingered on her for a moment. She looked stunning in her red silk saree, the intricate golden embroidery catching the light with every fold, draping elegantly over her figure, making her look radiant. But he immediately shook the thought away and turned back to his pushups, as if nothing had happened.

“Umm… tumhe yaad hai aaj kya hai, Dev?” Ananya asked cautiously.

Devansh paused mid-pushup, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. “Haan… aaj Friday hai,” he said casually, almost fluttering in his otherwise composed demeanor.

Ananya stared at him as if to say, Are you serious? She tried again, “Acha… okay… aur kya hai??”

He stood up, wiping sweat from his face with a towel. “Umm… aaj humari ek meeting hai, which is important.”

She stared blankly. “Aur?”

“Aur… kuch bhi nahi. Yahi hai,” he replied, utterly unfazed.

Ananya shook her head silently and walked out without another word, leaving him chuckling at her expression. Devansh followed her quietly.

As Ananya entered the hall, she saw Rajveer and Meenakshi waiting. She immediately went to them and touched their feet.

“Happy anniversary meri gudiya!” Meenakshi said, pulling her into a warm embrace and kissing her forehead.

“Thank you, Mumma,” Ananya said, smiling.

Rajveer stepped forward, holding her in a strong hug. “Happy Anniversary, baccha,” he murmured, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“Thank you, Papa,” Ananya replied, her heart warming at the affection.

“Look at you, all grown up and still my little gudiya,” Meenakshi teased softly.

Ananya laughed, “Mumma, you’re just saying that because today’s special!”

Rajveer chuckled, “Special or not, you make us proud every day, baccha.”

Suddenly, someone covered Ananya’s eyes from behind. A wide smile erupted on her face. She stomped lightly at the feet in front of her.

“Kya yaar, Anu!!” Kabir winced, laughing.

“Kya Anu aise kaun aata hai, be?” she teased, turning to see him.

“I come to annoy you… and Happy Anniversary, meri behen,” Kabir said, hugging her tightly.

Devansh entered the room, taking in the scene—his parents, his best friend, and his wife. He immediately went to his parents and touched their feet.

“Khush rahe mere laal,” Meenakshi said warmly.

“Khush raho,” Rajveer added softly, a smile tugging at his lips.

Devansh returned their smiles, and Kabir pulled him into a tight hug. “Happy Anniversary, saale.”

“Thank you.” Devansh replied, returning the hug firmly.

Ananya placed a hand on Kabir’s shoulder, teasing, “Chalo, kisi ko toh yaad hai ki aaj kya hai. Warna yaha koi hai jise sirf yahi pata hai—’aaj Friday hai’ aur ‘aaj ek meeting hai’,” she said, shooting a playful glance at Devansh.

Devansh raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

Rohan laughed, jumping in. “Bhai, you really need to remember special days, not just your gym routine!”

Sanya added, giggling, “Seriously, bhai! Even the plants in the office know today is anniversary day, and you’re acting like it’s just another Friday!”

Devansh smirked faintly, crossing his arms. “I remember the day… in my own way,” he said, though the corners of his mouth betrayed a hint of amusement.

Ananya rolled her eyes dramatically. “Your own way, huh? Well, lucky for you, some of us actually put in the effort around here!”

Kabir laughed, nudging Devansh. “See, even Anu has to school you in remembering important things!”

Devansh shook his head, feigning exasperation but secretly smiling. “Alright, alright… don’t act like you don’t enjoy it.”

Ananya smirked, “Hmm… maybe a little.”

The hall erupted in laughter, teasing, and warmth, the tension of the morning slowly dissolving into the joyous chaos of family and celebration.

After the playful chaos in the hall, Devansh excused himself and returned to his room. He emerged moments later wearing a simple yet elegant white kurta, the fabric soft and slightly textured, draping perfectly over his broad shoulders. The crisp collar framed his neck, and the kurta’s clean lines highlighted his tall, commanding frame. The sleeves were rolled up slightly, giving him a relaxed yet sophisticated appearance. Even in simplicity, he exuded a quiet strength that made Ananya’s pulse skip a beat.

Ananya, still radiant in her red silk saree, and Devansh settled themselves on the floor beside the Pooja setup. The room had been transformed into a warm, sacred space, filled with the fragrance of marigold and jasmine garlands. A low wooden altar stood adorned with deities, flickering diyas casting soft golden light across the polished floor. The gentle hum of prayers and the soft rustle of sarees and kurtas added to the serene atmosphere.

The Pooja began, the priest chanting mantras with calm authority. The sound of the conch filled the room intermittently, echoing off the walls and lending a sacred rhythm to the morning. A small plate of flowers, kumkum, rice, and incense lay before them, each item carefully arranged. Ananya’s hands moved gracefully as she followed the rituals, her fingers brushing against Devansh’s briefly as they performed the ceremonial steps together.

The warmth of the flickering flames reflected in their eyes, the soft fragrance of incense mingling with the subtle scent of Devansh’s cologne. Despite the formalities and the ceremonial precision, there was an unspoken tension and connection between them—an awareness of each other’s presence, a shared history of secrets, misunderstandings, and unspoken emotions.

As they moved through the rituals, their gestures were synchronized, almost instinctively, as though the years of living in proximity and the marriage that had brought them together had already shaped a rhythm between them. The world outside the room—corporate empires, responsibilities, and lingering secrets—faded for those moments, leaving only the sacred warmth of the Pooja and the subtle intimacy of two people bound together by circumstance and fate.

Ananya’s eyes drifted to Devansh. He sat there, composed and solemn, following each ritual with precision. Her gaze lingered, taking in the familiar lines of his face—the strong jaw, the sharp eyes, the calm demeanor—but her heart ached as it always did. She knew he still carried the memory of someone he had loved and lost, someone who had left a void she could never fill. And yet, due to circumstances neither of them could fully control, they were married. The weight of that truth made her chest tighten.

Tears welled up unexpectedly in her eyes, and she quickly turned away, refocusing on the Pooja to hide her emotions. She carefully placed flowers, sprinkled rice, and performed each ritual, all the while feeling the silent pull of longing and unspoken words between them.

Devansh, engrossed in the rituals, caught her glance from the corner of his eyes. He noticed the subtle quiver of her lips, the brief glimmer of moisture in her eyes. For a fleeting moment, a pang of guilt and something unrecognizable flickered within him. But he immediately looked away, forcing himself to focus on the chants and rituals, reminding himself of the boundaries of their relationship—he had loved another, and she was a symbol of duty, circumstance, and hidden secrets.

They continued the Pooja in this quiet, careful rhythm, the air thick with devotion and unsaid emotions.

After the havan, the priest approached Ananya with the arti thaal, its flickering lamps reflecting in her eyes. She accepted it gracefully, holding it steady, and looked at Devansh. Their hands brushed slightly as they performed the arti together, the golden light dancing across their faces, highlighting the contrast of intimacy and distance between them. For a moment, the world seemed to pause—the warmth of the flames, the fragrance of incense, and the delicate connection of ritual bridging the silent gaps between them.

When the arti concluded, the priest spoke, his voice gentle but firm:

“Havan sampann hua. Ab beta, aap bahu ki maang bhariye.”

Devansh nodded, taking a small pinch of sindoor. He applied it carefully along Ananya’s hairline. A tiny amount fell on her nose, and the priest chuckled softly. “Beta, tumhara pati hum se bahut pyaar karta hai,” he said warmly.

Ananya, feeling the weight of the words, gave only a small, composed smile. There was little else she could do—she knew the truth of Devansh’s heart, the memories of someone else he still loved. That smile was her shield, her quiet acceptance, and her silent acknowledgment that her love for him was hers alone, unrequited yet steadfast.

Kabir noticed the lingering tension on Ananya’s face and decided to lighten the mood.

“So guys,” he said, stretching his arms casually, “all set for tonight?”

Rohan grinned. “Yes, bhai! Everything is ready—decorations, music, food. Sanya even made a playlist with all Bhabhi’s favorites. Nothing can go wrong.”

Sanya chimed in, giggling, “And don’t worry, bhai, we even got the surprise cake! You better be impressed.”

Kabir laughed, nudging Ananya playfully. “See? We’ve done all the hard work. You just have to show up and dazzle everyone.”

Ananya rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll manage,” she said, teasing them back.

Devansh, who had been quietly observing, suddenly picked up his phone. After a brief conversation, he ended the call and looked at Ananya and Kabir, who were still busy in their usual banter.

“We need to head to the office now. The meeting is starting shortly,” he said, his tone firm yet calm.

Both nodded promptly and the trio moved through the morning light, the air around them buzzing with anticipation for the day ahead.

Kabir stretched lazily as they walked toward the car.

“Anu, you seriously have some magic. You look like a boss even before stepping into the office.”

Ananya smirked, adjusting her saree. “And you, Kabir, look like you’ve been dragged out of bed. At least try to match my energy.”

“Excuse me?” Kabir gasped dramatically. “This is my natural charm, thank you very much.”

Devansh, who had been unlocking the car, glanced at them with a faint sigh. “If you both are done with your comedy show, maybe we can reach the office on time?”

Ananya bit back a laugh, sliding into her seat. “Relax, Mr. Grumpy CEO. Not everyone lives in the land of spreadsheets and protein shakes.”

Kabir burst out laughing. “Oh my god, that’s perfect! ‘Mr. Grumpy CEO’—I’m using that from now on.”

Devansh shot him a warning look through the rearview mirror. “Kabir, do you want your CO position intact or should I reconsider?”

Kabir put his hands up innocently. “Okay, okay! No more nicknames. But admit it, Dev, she nailed it.”

Ananya tried to suppress a smile, stealing a glance at Devansh. His jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond, instead focusing on the road. Still, she could sense the faintest flutter of amusement in his eyes.

The drive continued, Kabir humming loudly to annoy Devansh while Ananya shook her head at their antics.

As they pulled up to the Singhania Group of Companies, the towering glass structure gleaming in the sunlight, Kabir leaned closer to Ananya.

“Oyeee, if he gets any grumpier today, I’m switching sides. You and I—we’ll form the Anti-Grumpy CEO Club.”

Devansh cut in dryly, “Both of you can form all the clubs you want. Just remember who signs your paychecks.”

Ananya chuckled softly, gathering her files as the chauffeur opened the door. “Noted, Mr. CEO. Now let’s go before your empire falls apart without you.”

Together, they drove towards the Singhania Group of Companies, the sprawling corporate headquarters standing tall as a symbol of power, strategy, and ambition. The day ahead promised challenges, meetings, and perhaps, the subtle sparks of tension and unspoken emotions that always lingered between them.

The trio entered the grand Singhania Boardroom, its long mahogany table polished to perfection, the Singhania Group’s golden crest gleaming on the wall. Executives were already seated, murmuring softly.

Devansh took his seat at the head of the table, his presence commanding silence immediately. Ananya sat to his right, Kabir to his left—the unshakable Singhania trio.

Devansh’s deep voice broke the silence.

“Let’s begin. Quarterly reports—where do we stand?”

The CFO began presenting, flipping through slides. Kabir leaned forward, sharp-eyed now, his usual humor replaced by crisp professionalism.

“Cut the fluff. Numbers, projections, and competitor analysis—straight.”

The room tensed under his tone. The CFO swallowed and corrected himself.

Meanwhile, Ananya’s sharp eyes scanned the room like a hawk. Every file, every nervous tick of the employees, every whispered shift in posture—nothing escaped her notice. Her fingers tapped rhythmically on the table as she cross-checked the digital report on her tablet.

Then her eyes stopped.

Mr. Mehra.

He looked too relaxed. Too casual for a meeting where stakes were life and death for the empire. He adjusted his collar, a bead of sweat forming despite the cool AC.

Ananya’s gaze narrowed, sharp as a blade. Her voice cut through the air like ice.

“That will be all for today. Everyone can leave—” she paused, her eyes never leaving Mehra’s, “—except you, Mr. Mehra.”

A shocked silence swept through the room. The executives glanced at one another before hastily gathering their files and leaving. The heavy door shut with a thud.

Only the trio and Mr. Mehra remained.

Devansh leaned back, folding his arms. His jaw was tight. Kabir, leaning forward with elbows on the table, gave Mehra a look that promised trouble.

Ananya finally spoke, her tone calm but laced with venom.

“So, Mr. Mehra… did you really think no one would notice?”

Mehra’s throat bobbed as he stammered. “M-Madam, I… I don’t understand—”

Ananya chuckled darkly, rising from her chair. She circled the table slowly, her heels clicking against the marble floor.

“Don’t insult my intelligence, Mehra. You thought you could pass every detail of our company to our rivals and remain invisible?”

His face paled. “N-no, I swear, I—”

“Swear?” Kabir’s voice was sharp, humor long gone. He leaned forward. “You were sloppy. Every file, every leak traced back to you. Do you think we’re blind?”

Devansh’s voice, cold and deadly, cut through.

“You betrayed the Singhanias. And betrayal…” he leaned in, his tone chilling, “is something we never forgive.”

Mehra’s hands trembled. “P-please sir, give me one more chance. I was forced—I had no choice!”

Ananya stopped in front of him, bending slightly so her eyes bored into his. Her lips curled in a humorless smile.

“You’re lucky, Mr. Mehra. Today happens to be my wedding anniversary. And I don’t want to stain this day with blood.” She straightened, her eyes dark and dangerous. “But tomorrow? Who will save you then?”

Mehra whimpered, “P-please Madam… I’ll do anything…”

Her voice echoed in the silence before she called out sharply: “Paras!”

The door opened instantly, and Paras Oberoi, Devansh's loyal PA, entered with precise steps. His crisp black suit, polished shoes, and piercing gaze gave away his secondary role-not just a PA, but the enforcer when needed.

"Yes, ma'am, Paras said, bowing his head respectfully.

"Take him," Ananya ordered coldly, her eyes never leaving Mehra. " To the Basement, and make sure he's....treated." She turned her back on him, dismissing his existence entirely.

Mehra’s eyes widened in horror. “N-no! Please! Sir, Mr. Singhania—don’t let them—!”

Devansh leaned back in his chair, his face unreadable, voice calm yet final. "You broke her rules, Mehra. That's the same as breaking mine."

Two guards entered and grabbed Mehra by the arms. He struggled, shouting desperately, “Please! I have a family—don’t do this! I’ll never—”

Kabir smirked coldly, standing. “Should’ve thought of that before biting the hand that fed you.”

The guards dragged Mehra out, his pleas echoing down the hallway until the door slammed shut again.

The room fell into silence.

Devansh rubbed his temple briefly before looking at his wife and best friend. “If there’s one Mehra, there will be more. We need to smoke them all out.”

Kabir nodded, his usual grin nowhere to be seen. “Agreed. Let’s dig deeper. If rivals are this desperate, it means something big is coming.”

Ananya, her expression calm but her eyes blazing, sat back down.

“And when it comes, we’ll be ready. Because no one crosses the Singhanias and lives to tell the tale.”

Ananya’s phone buzzed on the table.

She glanced at the screen—Piya Kulkarni, her PA.

She answered.

“Yes, Piya?”

“Mam, the next meeting is scheduled for 10 a.m. sharp.”

Ananya looked at her watch. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.” She ended the call, stood, and adjusted her saree.

Kabir frowned. “Where are you going, Anu?”

Ananya gave him a small smile. “Meeting. Don’t wait for me.” Without another word, she left the boardroom, her heels clicking against the marble floor until the sound disappeared down the hall.

The silence between Devansh and Kabir lingered. Kabir leaned back in his chair, folding his arms, eyes fixed on his best friend.

“You know,” Kabir finally broke the silence, “it’s been five years, Dev.”

Devansh didn’t reply, his jaw tight as he stared at the polished surface of the table.

Kabir continued, his tone softer but firm. “Five years of marriage. Five years of her waiting for a smile that actually belongs to her. You’re not just punishing yourself, yaar… you’re punishing Anu too.”

Devansh closed his eyes for a moment, as if the weight of Kabir’s words pressed on his chest. “You don’t understand, Kabir.” His voice was hoarse. “She was my everything. My first love, my only love. And then… she was gone. Snatched from me.”

“I do understand.” Kabir’s voice sharpened. “But clinging to ghosts isn’t living—it’s dying slowly. And you’re dragging her with you. Anu deserves better than being a shadow in your house.”

Devansh clenched his fists on the table, his knuckles turning white. “I didn’t ask for this marriage. Circumstances forced it. I’ve given her respect, security… but love? No. That’s something I can’t give.”

Kabir leaned forward, his gaze piercing. “And in denying her love, you’re denying yourself a second chance at life. Do you think the one you lost would’ve wanted this? To see you caged in your own misery? To see you ruin someone else’s happiness along with yours?”

Kabir leaned back to his chair, his voice steady but laced with emotion.

“Respect and security aren’t enough, Dev. She’s your wife, not your responsibility. Don’t forget—when you needed someone, she was there. In your worst nights, in your anger, in your silence… she stayed. She shared your happiness and your sadness without asking for anything in return.”

Devansh looked away, his throat tightening.

Kabir pressed on, his words cutting deeper.

“So for that sake alone—give her a chance. Give yourself a chance. Give your relationship a chance, Dev. She deserves it. And so do you.”

Devansh’s eyes flickered—anger, pain, regret—all at once.

Kabir’s final words hit him like a blow.

“Dev… she’s gone. But Anu is here. And if you keep living in the past, one day when you finally look up, you’ll realize… you’ve lost her too.”

The words hung heavy in the air. For the first time in years, something inside Devansh shifted—an ache, a tug, a spark he immediately tried to bury. But Kabir’s words echoed in his head, refusing to fade.

He stood abruptly, his chair screeching against the floor, chest heaving with unspoken emotions. Without another word, Devansh strode out of the boardroom, leaving Kabir staring after him with a knowing look.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Ananya walked confidently into Rathore Industries, the office buzzing with the usual morning energy. Her heels clicked decisively against the polished floor, her saree signaling authority and professionalism. Employees turned briefly, acknowledging their CEO with a respectful nod, but she barely noticed—the meeting awaited.

She entered the boardroom, where the team was already assembled. Piya, her efficient PA, handed her a folder with the day’s agenda.

“Good morning, Mam,” Piya said. “Everything is ready for the quarterly strategy discussion.”

“Thank you, Piya. Let’s keep it brief and productive,” Ananya replied, settling at the head of the table.

The team of directors and managers waited attentively. Ananya began the meeting.

“Alright, team. Today, we need to finalize our market expansion strategy for the next fiscal year. We’ll be discussing potential regions, partnerships, and how to strengthen Rathore’s brand presence without overextending our resources.”

One of the marketing heads, Mr. Kapoor, spoke first. “Mam, I recommend focusing on Tier 2 cities first. Our research shows high growth potential, and the competition isn’t as intense there yet.”

Ananya nodded, flipping through her notes. “Good point. But what about our supply chain capabilities? Can we manage a staggered expansion without affecting current operations?”

The operations head, Mrs. Desai, replied, “Yes, Mam. We can allocate incremental resources, prioritize logistics, and hire local teams gradually. This way, we minimize risk while scaling efficiently.”

Piya chimed in, “Also, Mam, I’ve prepared a list of potential local partners for each region. They’ve been vetted and can be contacted immediately once we finalize our plan.”

Ananya smiled briefly. “Excellent. Let’s proceed in that order. Marketing, then Operations, then Piya will share the partner list for final review.”

The discussion moved swiftly. Marketing shared insights, Operations confirmed logistics feasibility, and Piya presented the vetted partners. Ananya asked precise questions, cutting through any ambiguity, ensuring every plan had measurable outcomes and realistic timelines.

After half an hour, Ananya leaned back in her chair, satisfied. “Alright, team. This strategy is solid. I want finalized action points on my desk by end of day. Any obstacles or new ideas, report immediately. Meeting adjourned.”

Everyone stood and nodded. “Thank you, Mam,” they said in unison.

Piya handed Ananya her tablet. “Mam, all notes are saved, and follow-ups scheduled. The team is ready for execution.”

Ananya gave a brief nod. “Perfect. Let’s make sure Rathore Industries remains ahead of the curve.”

With that, the meeting ended, the team filing out swiftly, leaving Ananya alone for a moment to gather her thoughts before heading back to the Singhania Group for the next part of her day.

Ananya moved towards her cabin. She entered, closed the door softly behind her, and sank into her chair. She leaned back for a moment, closing her eyes, letting herself breathe.

“Come on, Dad… aise kon aata hai??” she murmured, opening her eyes to see her father, Harshad Rathore, leaning against the doorframe with a warm smile.

“Of course me, baby,” he said, stepping in with his usual gentle charm.

Ananya’s face lit up. She stood quickly, walking toward him, and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Happy anniversary, bacche,” Harshad said softly, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“Thank you, Papa,” she whispered, resting her head against his chest.

He chuckled, loosening the hug slightly to look at her. “So, tell me… how is everything going with Devansh? Huh?”

Ananya’s smile faltered for a brief moment, but she quickly masked it with a small, composed grin. “Ah… as usual, Papa. Busy, serious… you know him.”

Harshad raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Usual, huh? That’s your way of saying he’s being difficult as always, I suppose?”

Ananya laughed softly. “Yes, Papa. Difficult as ever… but at least he’s consistent.”

Harshad leaned back in his chair, shaking his head with a fond smile. “Typical Devansh. I swear, one day you’ll have to teach him how to relax… or he’ll drive you crazy.”

“I’m used to it, Papa,” Ananya replied, with a playful smirk. “Besides, someone has to keep him in check.”

Harshad chuckled, standing and walking toward her. “Alright, princess. I’ll see you tonight. Don’t let me miss the celebration,” he said, hugging her tightly once more.

“Yes, Papa,” she replied, smiling as he left the room, the sound of his footsteps fading into the distance.

Once alone, Ananya sank back into her chair, letting out a slow breath. Her fingers rested lightly on her tablet as her thoughts wandered. Don’t know what will happen when he knows the truth… she thought, a flicker of worry passing through her mind. The room, silent except for the faint hum of the air conditioning, suddenly felt heavier.

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So,here is first chapter of "CRIMSON VEIL" I hope you guys will like it .

So , let me know your opinions in comment section.

Do vote guys..