The morning sun spilled through the tall windows of Aarya Verma's office at Verma Towers, casting long shadows across the polished mahogany desk.
Papers were strewn across its surface—boardroom transcripts, financial reports, and a single black envelope with a red wax seal that seemed to pulse with secrets.
Aarya stood by the window, her arms crossed, her navy blazer as sharp as her resolve. The city skyline stretched before her, a glittering battlefield where every move was scrutinized.
Janhavi paced behind her, a tablet in hand, her fingers flying across the screen. "We've got a lead on the leak," she said, her voice taut with urgency. "The boardroom transcript—it didn't come from an external hack. It was an internal job."
Aarya turned, her emerald eyes narrowing. "Who?"
Janhavi tapped the tablet, pulling up a personnel file. "Rhea Kapoor. Junior assistant to Mr. Vyas. She's been with the company for six months. Low clearance, but she had access to the boardroom's audio system during the last meeting."
Aarya's jaw tightened. "Rhea Kapoor," she repeated, the name bitter on her tongue. "She's barely out of college. Why would she risk everything?"
"Money," Janhavi said flatly. "Or blackmail. Her bank account shows a deposit of two lakhs last week. Untraceable source, but the timing's too perfect."
Aarya stepped closer, glancing at the tablet. Rhea's photo stared back—young, unassuming, with a nervous smile that now seemed like a mask. "Bring her in. Quietly."
Janhavi nodded, already dialing security. "And then?"
"We make an example of her," Aarya said, her voice cold but steady. "But not before she tells us who pulled her strings."
----
An hour later, Rhea Kapoor sat trembling in a small conference room, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. The room was stark, with only a table and three chairs, the air heavy with unspoken accusations.
Aarya stood across from her, arms folded, her presence commanding despite her silence. Janhavi leaned against the wall, her sharp gaze pinning Rhea like a specimen under a microscope.
"I—I didn't mean to cause trouble," Rhea stammered, her voice breaking. "It was just… they said it was a one-time thing. That no one would get hurt."
"Who's 'they'?" Aarya asked, her tone deceptively calm.
Rhea's eyes darted to the floor. "I don't know his name. He called me from a private number. Said he worked for someone important. Offered me money to… to record the meeting and send the audio."
Aarya leaned forward, her hands resting on the table. "You sold out Verma Industries for two lakhs. Did you think we wouldn't notice?"
Rhea's lip quivered. "I needed the money. My brother's hospital bills—"
"Save it," Janhavi cut in, her voice like a whip. "You had a choice. You chose betrayal."
Aarya raised a hand, silencing Janhavi. Her gaze softened, but only slightly. "Rhea, you're young. I understand desperation. But you're going to fix this. You'll issue a public apology, admit your role, and name the contact who approached you. If you don't, I'll ensure every corporate door in this city slams shut on you."
Rhea's eyes widened, tears spilling over. "Please… I'll do it. I'll say whatever you want."
Aarya straightened, her expression unreadable. "Good. Janhavi will handle the statement. And Rhea? Don't think about running. We're watching."
As Rhea was escorted out, Janhavi turned to Aarya. "You think she's telling the truth about the mystery contact?"
"Partially," Aarya said, her fingers tapping the table. "But someone bigger is behind this. Karan's too smart to leave a trail, but he's not the only player in this game."
Janhavi's eyes flicked to the black envelope on Aarya's desk, still unopened. "Speaking of players…"
Aarya followed her gaze, her heart giving an involuntary thud. The envelope had arrived that morning, slipped under her office door before dawn. The red wax seal, stamped with an elegant "S," was unmistakable.
Shaurya Singh.
----
Back at her desk, Aarya sat alone, the envelope in her hands. The office was quiet now, the hum of the city muffled by the thick glass walls.
She traced the wax seal with her thumb, its smooth surface cool against her skin. Her mind churned with questions. Why was Shaurya helping her? What did he gain? And why did his cryptic gestures stir something in her—something she couldn't name?
She broke the seal, unfolding the single sheet of paper inside. The message was brief, written in his now-familiar script:
"The enemy you see isn't the only one you fight. Look closer. We share a shadow. –S"
Aarya read it twice, her brow furrowing. A shared enemy? Was he pointing to Karan, or someone else? Her fingers lingered on the paper, the ink bold and deliberate, like the man himself.
She closed her eyes, and for a moment, she was back in her office two days ago—Shaurya's hand brushing her cheek, his gaze heavy with conflict and something dangerously close to desire. Her breath hitched at the memory, and she hated herself for it.
"Get a grip, Aarya," she muttered, shoving the note into a drawer. Trusting Shaurya was a gamble she wasn't ready to take. Not yet. But the pull was there, undeniable, like a current dragging her toward a storm she wasn't sure she could weather.
Her phone buzzed, snapping her back to reality. A news alert flashed across the screen:
"Verma Industries Scandal: Leaked Records Tie Late Rajat Verma to Massive Fraud"
Aarya's blood ran cold. She clicked the article, scanning the details. Doctored financial records, forged signatures, offshore accounts—all painting her father as the mastermind behind a multi-crore embezzlement scheme.
The article cited "anonymous sources" and included grainy scans of documents that looked convincing enough to sway public opinion.
Karan.
She slammed her phone down, her hands trembling with fury. This wasn't just an attack on her campaign—it was an assault on her father's legacy, the very foundation she was fighting to restore.
The city's confidence in her would waver; shareholders would hesitate. Karan was playing dirty, and he was playing to win.
Janhavi burst in, her face pale. "You saw the news?"
Aarya nodded, her jaw tight. "It's fabricated. I know it. But we need proof, and we need it fast."
"I'm already on it," Janhavi said, pulling out her laptop. "I've got our forensic accountants digging through the originals. If there's a single discrepancy, we'll find it."
"Good." Aarya stood, her voice hardening. "In the meantime, we push back. Rhea's apology goes live today. We tie the leak to Karan's camp, even if it's circumstantial. Let the city see he's desperate."
Janhavi hesitated. "And Shaurya's note? What do we do with that?"
Aarya's gaze drifted to the drawer where the note lay hidden. "For now, we watch. If he's telling the truth about a shared enemy, he'll show his hand. If not…" She trailed off, her eyes darkening. "He'll regret stepping into my game."
----
By evening, Rhea's tearful apology was trending online. In a carefully scripted video, she admitted to leaking the boardroom transcript, citing pressure from an unnamed contact.
The media frenzy was immediate, with pundits speculating about Karan's involvement. Aarya watched the coverage from her office, her expression unreadable but her mind racing.
Karan's doctored records were gaining traction, but cracks were already forming. Social media was divided—some vilified Aarya's father, others questioned the timing of the "leak."
Her team's counter-narrative was working, but it wasn't enough. Not yet.
She opened the drawer and pulled out Shaurya's note again, rereading the words.
"We share a shadow." Her fingers lingered on the wax seal, its texture grounding her in the chaos. She didn't trust him—not fully.
But something about his words, his presence, tugged at her. He wasn't just an enemy. He was a puzzle, one she couldn't stop trying to solve.
Her phone buzzed again—a text from an unknown number:
"Check the records from 2018. You'll find what you need. –S"
Aarya's breath caught. Another clue. Another risk.
She typed a reply, her fingers steady despite the storm in her chest: "Prove it."
The response was immediate: "I will."
Aarya leaned back, the note still in her hand. The city outside hummed with secrets, and she was at the heart of them. Karan was closing in. Shaurya was circling. And she—she was ready to fight.
But as she tucked the note away, a single thought lingered, unbidden and dangerous: Shaurya Singh was more than a shadow.
And that scared her more than any enemy ever could.