The Khurana Group boardroom was a theater of cold glass and silent judgment. At the head of the table sat Rajvardhan, Shanaya's father, looking smug and predatory. Beside him, Shanaya leaned back, her eyes tracking Myra with a victorious glint.
Reyansh sat at the center, his face a mask of impenetrable granite. He didn't look at Myra as she stood at the podium. He didn't offer a single nod of encouragement. To the world, he was a CEO on the verge of losing his patience.
"Miss Kapoor," Rajvardhan's voice boomed, dripping with fake concern. "We are told the Phase 2 structural stress tests for the Seafront Project are complete. Please tell us we have the green light to begin the heavy construction."
Myra's hands trembled—not from fear, but from the sheer effort of the lie. She glanced at Reyansh. For a split second, their eyes met. In that moment, she saw the dark spark of pride he was hiding. Do it, his eyes commanded.
"I... I'm afraid the news isn't good," Myra stammered, projecting a perfect image of a woman drowning in incompetence. She hit a key on her laptop, and a series of red graphs flashed onto the screen. "The soil density at the northern perimeter cannot support the load of the glass spire. If we build as planned, the foundation will liquefy within five years."
A collective gasp went around the room. Rajvardhan's face turned from smug to pale.
"What?" he roared, slamming his hand on the table. "I've invested billions based on your initial projections! Are you telling me the centerpiece of this project is a structural impossibility?"
"I've run the simulations three times, Sir," Myra said, her voice small and wavering. "The project... it's fundamentally flawed."
Reyansh stood up, his chair screeching against the floor. He walked over to the podium, his presence so suffocatingly cold that the air in the room seemed to thin. He looked at the screen, then turned to Myra with a look of pure, unadulterated loathing—the kind of look they had practiced in the dark of the penthouse hours before.
"You had one job, Myra," Reyansh hissed, his voice a low, terrifying vibration. "I gave you my trust. I gave you the resources of this company. And you bring me a pile of digital rubble?"
"Reyansh, I tried—"
"Get out," he snarled, pointing toward the door. "Resign. Pack your things. I don't care where you go, but you will never work in this city again. You've cost me more than just money tonight; you've cost me my legacy."
Myra lowered her head, her hair shielding the small, triumphant smile she couldn't entirely hide. She grabbed her laptop and fled the room, playing the part of the disgraced employee to perfection.
As the door closed behind her, Reyansh turned back to Rajvardhan. He looked "defeated," his shoulders slightly slumped, his jaw tight.
"My apologies, Rajvardhan," Reyansh said, his voice sounding hollow. "It seems my choice of architect was... emotional rather than professional. The Seafront Project is a dead weight. I'll have to liquidate my shares by morning to minimize the damage."
Rajvardhan's eyes darted around. He saw the "panic" in Reyansh. He saw the opportunity to buy out the "failing" project for pennies on the dollar, fix the "flaw" with his own team, and take the glory for himself.
"Don't be hasty, Reyansh," Rajvardhan said, his mind already calculating. "If you're so eager to get rid of it... perhaps I can take the burden off your hands. For a significantly lower price, of course."
Reyansh looked at him, a flicker of "desperation" in his eyes. "You would do that? To save the Khurana name?"
"For family? Anything," Rajvardhan lied, his heart racing with greed.
An hour later, Myra was waiting in the back of the black SUV in the basement parking lot. The door opened, and Reyansh stepped in. The moment the door shut, the mask of fury evaporated.
He lunged for her, not in anger, but in a surge of adrenaline-fueled passion. He pulled her into his lap, his mouth finding hers in a kiss that tasted of victory and dark intent.
"You were brilliant," he murmured against her lips, his hands gripping her waist. "The way you looked at the floor... the way your voice cracked... Rajvardhan is already calling his brokers. He's selling everything he owns to buy the 'dead' shares of the Seafront Project."
"He has no idea the data was faked," Myra whispered, her fingers tangling in his hair. "He thinks he's stealing your empire, but he's just buying a mountain of debt."
"By Friday, he'll be bankrupt," Reyansh promised, his eyes burning with a dark, satisfied light. "And you, Myra... you won't be a failed architect for long. When we reveal the real blueprints at the Gala, the world will see you as the genius you are. And they'll see you as my wife."
He leaned in, biting her earlobe with a possessive nip. "But for now... let's go home. I have a very specific way I want to reward my partner for her performance tonight."
Author's Thought
THE TRAP IS SET! 😱📉 Rajvardhan fell for it hook, line, and sinker! He thinks he's bankrupting Reyansh, but he's actually handing him the keys to his own destruction. 🚩⚖️