FIVE WINTER YEARS LATER :

The city outside her floor-to-ceiling windows pulsed like a living heartbeat-cold, grey, ruthless. Much like the woman sitting behind the heavy glass desk, fingers tapping rhythmically against the black marble surface, her gaze lost somewhere between memory and silence.

Five years.

Five goddamn winters.

She sat in a tailored black suit, her long waves tied back into a low, deliberate bun. No jewelry except a thin diamond-studded watch and her mother's old gold ring. Her heels were sharp. Her voice-sharper.

She hadn't spoken a word since entering her office that morning. Just sat still, staring at the skyline like it owed her answers it would never give.

And inside?

Inside, she was still bleeding.

But she'd learned to make grief her armor. Pain, her perfume. And silence? Her sharpest weapon.

The door knocked once.

"Ma'am?" a soft voice came through. "The investors are here."

Shanaya didn't respond right away. She simply blinked, as if resurfacing from a place too deep. She stood slowly, heels clicking against the wooden floor. Controlled. Composed. Lethal.

"Send them in."

Her assistant, a young man barely 23 and already terrified of her silences, nodded and rushed off.

Within seconds, the tall glass doors of the conference room opened. A group of five men and two women entered. Powerful, polished, and utterly unaware of the storm they were walking into.

"Miss Singh," the lead investor smiled, "We're honored. We've heard... stories."

She took her seat at the head of the table, crossing one leg over the other, her eyes cold but unreadable.

"I'm sure you have," she said, voice smooth like poisoned honey. "They usually start with a man leaving, don't they?"

A pause.

The man chuckled awkwardly. "Well-"

"I wasn't joking," Shanaya cut him off, arching a brow. "You're here for numbers. Not my origin story. Let's skip the foreplay."

Another man shifted uncomfortably. One of the women-a sharp-looking business strategist-smirked. "Your revenue model is aggressive."

"So am I."

Silence.

"Now," Shanaya leaned forward, placing her elbows on the table, "You're interested in investing in a company that has tripled its valuation in three years. We operate in four countries, we're dominating the market you just entered, and if I wanted to, I could buy out your last client list by tomorrow morning."

She smiled. But it was the kind that left no warmth.

"So here's the only question that matters: Do you want to grow with us-or compete and lose?"

They were silent. One cleared his throat. "We'd... like to proceed."

"Good," she said, rising to her feet again. "I expect signed interest drafts by 6 PM. And yes, I still charge late penalties."

She didn't wait for goodbyes. She turned and walked out of the room like it didn't matter. Because it didn't.

---

Her heels echoed back down the hallway. Back to her glass cage.

As soon as the door shut, she slumped in the chair. For just a second. Just one stolen moment of weakness.

And her eyes drifted-like they always did-to the locked drawer on the right side of her desk.

Where the letter still lay.

Unopened since the day he left.

She had never needed to read it.

She already knew what it would say.

"I didn't have a choice."

"I love you more than life itself."

"Please take care of yourself."

She hadn't cried since the day he left.

Lie.

She cried for him. Longed for him. But when she realised he wouldn't come back. She stopped.

And, She didn't cry now.

But sometimes, when the rain touched her window just right...

She wondered if he did.

---

Hii guyss.... Ik it's a short chapter but it's just a sneak peek into our new shanaya who's more powerful and fierce. But before that let's first dive into the pain and struggle that made her like this. See you all in the next chapter ❤

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