Author's pov:-
Aarohi Arora sat in her office, her fingers gliding swiftly over the keyboard of her laptop. The soft hum of the air conditioning was the only sound that filled the otherwise quiet space. The walls of her cabin were decorated with sleek, modern artwork, and the floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the bustling city of Delhi.
Her mind was laser-focused as she reviewed the documents on her screen, but her thoughts were not entirely on the task at hand. The upcoming meeting with Damien Volkov occupied a corner of her mind.
Damien Volkov. The name was enough to stir unease within her, but she refused to let it show. She had dealt with ruthless men before—powerful men who thought they could control everything around them. But Damien... He was different. Rumors about his ruthlessness and cold demeanor had reached her ears long before he decided to pay her a visit in India. His reputation preceded him, and that only made her more determined not to let him think he could easily dominate her empire.
As she pressed send on an email to her lawyer, a knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts.
"Come in," she called out, her voice steady and professional.
The door opened, revealing Grave, her right-hand man and the only one who knew her true identity. He was carrying a stack of documents in one hand and a tablet in the other.
"Mam, the board meeting is scheduled in an hour. I suggest you take a look at the finalized agenda," he said, placing the tablet in front of her.
Aarohi nodded, scanning the details. Her eyes narrowed as she saw the name of Damien Volkov on the list. It was time to face him, to make sure this deal went in her favor. But she wouldn't be the one intimidated. Not now, not ever.
"Thank you, Grave. Let's make sure we're ready," Aarohi said, her voice calm but laced with authority. "I'll be there shortly."
She stood up from her desk, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor as she walked toward the door. Another challenge awaited, but it was nothing she couldn't handle.
The conference room was massive, designed for efficiency and power. The long, sleek wooden table stretched across the room, and at the far end sat Aarohi, the queen of this domain. The dimly lit room felt almost suffocating as the four board members took their seats.
Aarohi was well aware that not all of them knew who she truly was. To most, she was just another businesswoman, a figurehead of the Arora empire. But to those who had seen her operate behind the scenes, they knew better. She was a force to be reckoned with.
As the board members settled into their seats, the tension in the air thickened. Everyone knew this meeting was about one thing: the deal with Damien Volkov.
"Let's begin," Aarohi said, her voice cutting through the air like a blade. She opened her tablet and turned to the first slide of the presentation.
"Damien Volkov, the Russian mafia king and business magnate. We all know he's coming to India for the deal, but the question remains—can we trust him?" she asked, her voice a mix of curiosity and caution.
The first board member, Mr. Kapoor, cleared his throat. "We can't ignore his reputation. Volkov is not a man who takes 'no' for an answer. If we want to secure this deal, we'll need to play it carefully."
"I agree," said Mrs. Mehta, her voice stern. "But I've done some digging into his business practices. Volkov is unpredictable. His empire may be vast, but he plays dirty when necessary. We need to ensure we have the upper hand."
Aarohi sat back in her chair, her fingers tapping on the table lightly. "I'm aware of his reputation. But we'll be meeting on our terms, in India, on our turf. We need to show him that we are not easily intimidated."
The room fell silent for a moment as the other board members exchanged glances. Aarohi could sense the hesitation, the uncertainty that lingered in the air. They feared Damien, but Aarohi wasn't afraid. She had built her empire with strategy, patience, and ruthlessness. She wouldn't let a man like Damien Volkov dictate her next move.
"I'll agree to the deal," Aarohi finally said, breaking the silence. "But we will set the conditions. He will not walk away with the upper hand. We'll control this, not him."
The board members nodded, relieved to hear her confident decision. Aarohi's decision was final. The meeting with Damien would take place in India. And this time, she would be the one holding the cards.
Time Skip :Demien arrived in India
The private jet touched down smoothly on Indian soil, the engines roaring as the wheels hit the tarmac. Damien Volkov stood by the window, watching the landscape unfold beneath him. The vast city sprawled out below, with the signature chaos of India's streets contrasting sharply with the polished precision of his own life.
His younger brother, Denis, was seated next to him, staring out the window as well. But his mind was clearly elsewhere, running through the details of their business trip.
"This is going to be interesting," Denis said, breaking the silence. "Aarohi Arora is not a woman to be underestimated. She's smart, ruthless."
Damien's eyes remained cold and unwavering. "I didn't come here to underestimate anyone," he replied, his tone chilling. "I came here to take what's mine. The Arora deal will be mine. And so will she."
Denis glanced at his brother, his eyebrows raised in curiosity. "What is it about her that's got you so interested, Damien?"
Damien didn't answer immediately. His eyes narrowed as he thought about Aarohi Arora. She wasn't like other businesswomen. There was something about her, an intelligence and fierceness that intrigued him. He had dealt with powerful women before, but Aarohi had a presence that made her stand out.
"I'm not interested in her... personally," Damien said after a pause, his voice low. "But she's an obstacle I'll enjoy overcoming."
The car ride to the hotel was filled with the sounds of the bustling city around them. Denis and the other members of their team were discussing logistics, but Damien's thoughts were on the upcoming meeting. He had heard rumors about Aarohi—the cold, calculating woman who had built an empire. He couldn't wait to see if the rumors were true.
The car finally pulled up in front of a luxurious hotel, and the team disembarked. The hotel's grand entrance stood before them, a testament to wealth and status. Damien's eyes scanned the surroundings as they entered the lobby.
"Everything's set for the meeting tomorrow," Denis said, glancing at his brother. "Aarohi will be expecting us."
Damien gave a nod, his gaze already focused on the task at hand. "Tomorrow, we make our move. And when it's all over, the deal will be ours."
Damien leaned back against the leather seat of his sleek black car, the city lights flickering as the cool evening breeze brushed against his skin. He had come outside for some fresh air, needing a brief respite before the business meeting that awaited him tomorrow. The tension from the past few hours weighed on his shoulders, and he needed a moment to clear his head.
As his gaze shifted down the street, he noticed a figure walking toward a book cafe on the corner. His attention snapped to her instantly. She stood out amidst the crowd, like a rare gem among dull stones.
She was small, about 5′3", her graceful steps matching the rhythm of the city's heartbeat. Her knee-length smart casual dress, a deep, fiery red, clung to her figure effortlessly. But it wasn't the dress that caught his attention; it was her—her aura. There was something ethereal about her, something that made the world seem to slow down around him. Her long, dark hair cascaded down her back in waves, and when she turned slightly, her eyes—deep, captivating, and full of mystery—met his for just a brief moment.
She didn't notice him, her focus completely on the door of the cafe as she walked inside, her movements as fluid as the wind.
Damien couldn't help himself. The pull, the curiosity, it was as if something was drawing him toward her. He opened the car door with a quiet creak, stepping out onto the pavement without a second thought. His boots clicked against the stone as he made his way to the cafe. His eyes never left her, even though she had already stepped inside, disappearing behind the wooden door.
The dim light from inside the cafe illuminated the glass windows, casting her silhouette in a warm glow. He reached the door just as it swung shut behind her. He paused for a moment, muttering under his breath in Russian, a phrase that only he understood, his tone laced with intrigue.
"Не могу поверить, что она так красива."
("I can't believe how beautiful she is.")
He pushed the door open, the bell above jingling softly. As he entered, the sweet scent of coffee and old books filled his nostrils. His eyes scanned the room, quickly locating her at a small corner table, absorbed in a book, her back turned to him. His breath caught in his throat as he took a few steps forward, his mind still racing with thoughts of the woman he'd just encountered.
She didn't hear his quiet words, nor did she understand the Russian that slipped from his lips. But to him, it felt as though the world had narrowed down to this very moment.
"How can I help you sir"...........
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