The morning light poured in, warm and golden, but all Raneya could feel was the cold, undeniable rush of destiny settling in her chest. The clock had ticked past time itself, and her life—quiet, controlled—had just shattered.
Aahil had already left when she woke, leaving behind a sleek black folder that seemed to pulse with significance on the rosewood table. Her fingers trembled as she opened it—there, in crisp, elegant text, her name and her future.
Appointment Letter: Brand Strategy Intern at Shah Media.
Her heart stopped. She was to join tomorrow.
Her mind spun, emotions flooding in waves. This is real. The reality of it was too good to be true, but here it was—no more dreams, no more what-ifs. The weight of the opportunity settled over her like a cloak of steel and silk, one she'd have to wear, whether it fit perfectly or not. She closed her eyes, feeling the weight of it—this was no longer a dream. It was the reality she had fought for.
Her eyes were bright with joy as she shared the news with Razia Begum, who smiled warmly, and Justice Shah, who gave her a knowing look. "The world is about to change for you," he said, almost as though he were reading from some ancient script. "Make sure you're ready."
Ready? Raneya's heart raced. The moment was closer now. The future she'd always dreamed of was right in front of her, and it terrified her. She steadied herself, her hands moving mechanically as she laid out her outfit for the next day. A crisp lilac blouse, charcoal trousers, polished flats—the smallest details mattered now. Her breath hitched as she thought, What will this world be like?
The grand glass structure of Shah Media's headquarters stood before her like a colossal force—untouchable, sleek, and impossibly powerful. Stepping into the building felt like crossing into a whole new realm, where everything operated on a level she'd never known before. It wasn't just a company; it was a world unto itself, with its own rules and an unspoken law of precision.
The office buzzed with energy, but it wasn't the kind of liveliness you'd expect. There was an underlying tension, a buzz that hummed with fear, and yet no one spoke of it. Every employee worked like a well-oiled machine, eyes down, voices hushed, as if aware that Aahil Shah could be watching at any given moment.
And then, there was her. Raneya.
She felt the weight of every gaze upon her as she made her way across the floor, the whispers following her like shadows. It was clear—she was an outsider, a newcomer to this world, and everyone knew it.
Faraz, the senior associate, gave her a cold welcome. "Welcome to Shah Media. Your credentials got you here. Let's see if you can keep up."
Before she could even find her bearings, Faraz threw her straight into the deep end. "Tomorrow, you're attending the press conference. Artist coordination, backstage management. It's not a favor—it's a test. Don't mess it up."
Her pulse quickened. A test. The weight of those words pressed on her chest, but she nodded without hesitation. "Understood."
The ride to the office was as silent as the man sitting beside her. Aahil's cold presence filled the car like an invisible wall, separating them despite the proximity. She tried, for the briefest moment, to break the silence.
"Shah Media's success—it's incredible. You've built something monumental," she ventured, hoping for some kind of connection, however small.
But Aahil didn't even glance at her. His eyes stayed fixed on the city passing by outside the window, his voice dismissive, almost bored. "Small talk, Raneya. Not interested."
It stung. The ice in his voice was unmistakable. He wasn't just cold—he was frigid, untouchable. Every word from him was a wall, and she was the one left on the other side.
Her attempts to bridge the gap felt futile. But for a fleeting moment, she caught a flicker of something in his gaze—a brief glance, perhaps unintended, but telling nonetheless. His coldness wasn't just a shield—it was a calculated choice. Aahil Shah was watching her, and she had the distinct feeling he was measuring her every move.
The rest of the ride passed in uncomfortable silence, the city blurring past as she sat there, unsure of how to bridge the chasm between them.
By the time Raneya entered the office, the air felt heavier, like a storm was gathering. Her first task was no small feat—she was thrown into the press conference preparation. Backstage coordination. Artist management. Every detail needed to be perfect, or she would fail.
But the true pressure wasn't just in the task—it was the realization that this moment, this assignment, was her proving ground. Everyone in the office was watching her, waiting for her to falter.
She didn't know why Aahil hadn't bothered to attend—he usually controlled everything with an iron grip. But this wasn't about him. Not yet.
What she didn't know, however, was that he was watching from the shadows. Every move she made, every misstep, every triumph—he would see it.
And that made her heart race with a mix of dread and determination. She had to prove herself. Not just to them, but to herself.
Backstage was a flurry of activity. Raneya moved swiftly, organizing and managing, her heart pounding as the weight of her responsibility grew heavier. She had to prove herself—not just to them, but to herself. Every step felt like a test.
And in the midst of the chaos, her mind kept returning to Aahil. The man who had dismissed her so coldly. The man whose eyes had never met hers during the ride. He had created this empire with silence, with cold precision. But as much as he didn't care to show it, she could feel it—he was watching. And every action she took would be part of the story he would write.
Tomorrow, she knew, would change everything.