Shadows of the past

Rain drizzled over Mumbai’s skyline, veiling the city in a hazy silver mist. At the Malhotra estate, Kiara stood by her bedroom window, arms folded, her gaze lost in thought.

Aaryan Sehgal had officially become the most complicated project she never signed up for.

He was all sharp edges and silent storms. Calculated. Cold. But then, sometimes, he’d say something disarmingly honest. Or look at her like he saw past everything she tried to hide.

And yet… that phone call. That name. Ishita Kapoor.

Something about it unsettled her.

She wasn’t sure if it was jealousy, curiosity, or simply caution. But she needed to keep her guard up. He was not just a man—he was a story waiting to be untangled.

—

At Sehgal Corp’s private conference lounge, the duo had their first investor pitch for the new luxury-tech collaboration. The room was full of old-money tycoons, fashion journalists, and elite tech investors.

Kiara, in a bold red blazer and sleek ponytail, stood confidently beside Aaryan, presenting their joint vision.

“Luxury is no longer just appearance—it’s experience,” she said, voice crisp. “Our product adapts to the wearer’s emotional and physical needs. It doesn’t just accessorize—it understands.”

Aaryan followed smoothly. “This isn’t just wearable tech. It’s emotional intelligence wrapped in design.”

Applause followed.

As the room cleared out, Kiara and Aaryan stood alone, momentarily silent.

“You did well,” he said.

She glanced at him. “You sound surprised.”

“I’m not.” He paused, his tone softening. “You were born to lead.”

That caught her off guard. Praise from Aaryan wasn’t easily given.

She looked away. “Thanks.”

But before either could say more, Aaryan’s phone vibrated. Again. Ishita Kapoor.

He declined the call instantly, but not before Kiara noticed the name flash across the screen.

Her expression hardened.

“You should take that,” she said flatly.

“It’s nothing,” he replied, slipping the phone into his pocket.

“You don’t strike me as the kind of man who ignores ‘nothing’ three times in a row.”

He looked at her then, really looked. “She’s a part of my past. And a mistake I intend to keep in the past.”

Kiara arched a brow. “You don’t seem like someone who makes mistakes.”

“Everyone makes them,” he said quietly. “Some just come with deeper scars.”

There was something vulnerable in his voice—a softness that didn’t fit the image he wore like armor.

Kiara opened her mouth to respond, but her phone buzzed. A text from her father:

“Emergency board meeting. Come home now.”

—

That night, Kiara walked into the Malhotra estate’s private boardroom, heart pounding. Her father, Rajan Malhotra, stood at the head of the long mahogany table, face grave.

“We’ve been audited,” he announced. “And someone’s leaked internal documents. Trade secrets.”

Gasps echoed across the room.

Kiara froze. “Leaked? Who would—?”

“We don’t know yet,” her father said. “But whoever it is had access to our joint project’s encrypted files.”

Her heart dropped.

The only people with that level of access were herself—and Aaryan.

—

Later that night, Kiara stood alone on the terrace, phone in hand, staring at Aaryan’s contact.

Could it be him?

Was the man who saw her like no one else… the one betraying her family?

She didn’t want to believe it. But her world had always been black and white. Trust was earned—not assumed. And she hadn’t known him long enough to know which side of the line he stood on.

Not yet.

But she would find out.

Even if it broke her in the process.

---

End of Episode 4.

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