Trehan Enterprises stood as a glass and steel monument to power, a fortress built on discipline, fear, and unyielding precision.
Inside, the air was thick with silent tension as employees moved with robotic efficiency, each step calculated to avoid catching the attention of the one person who ruled this empire—Dhriti Trehan.
Cold. Ruthless. Unforgiving.
That was what they called her.
She didn’t care for their opinions. She had built this empire from the ground up, carving her place in the world with sheer determination. Weakness had no place in her life.
Dhriti walked through the office, her sharp heels clicking against the marble floors. Employees stiffened as she passed, lowering their heads, typing faster, speaking in hushed whispers. They feared her, respected her, but never dared to cross her.
She entered the conference room, where the board members were already seated, their backs straighter, their expressions wary. No one spoke until she settled into her chair, crossing her legs with effortless elegance.
“The merger is finalized,” one of the executives began, but Dhriti barely listened. She already knew. She always knew.
Her gaze flickered toward the window, where the city stretched before her, a landscape of power and control.
Power was everything.
The meeting continued, numbers and projections filling the air, but her mind drifted—just for a second.
Back to a time when power had meant nothing to her.
When she had been someone else.
When love and warmth had once been a part of her world.
She pushed the thought aside. That girl was long gone.
After the meeting, she returned to her office, where everything was pristine and calculated, devoid of anything remotely personal—except for one thing.
A single photo frame on her desk.
A little girl with wild curls, laughing, her mother kneeling beside her, her father’s hands resting on her shoulders.
A memory of a time when she had believed in kindness.
She should have thrown it away years ago. But for some reason, she never did.
The intercom buzzed, pulling her from her thoughts.
“Your assistant interviews are scheduled for this afternoon,” Aaradhya’s voice came through, laced with amusement.
Dhriti didn’t look up. “Cancel them.”
“You need an assistant, Dhriti,” Aaradhya argued, stepping into the office. “You can’t do everything alone.”
“I manage just fine.”
“Right,” Aaradhya said dryly. “That’s why you forgot about the gala tonight.”
Dhriti paused for half a second before continuing to type.
Aaradhya smirked, knowing she had caught her. “I’ll have a dress sent to your penthouse. Be ready by eight.”
Dhriti exhaled, finally looking up. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet you keep me around.” Aaradhya winked before leaving.
Dhriti didn’t argue.
The assistant interviews were exactly as she expected. A waste of her time.
One man stuttered so badly that she didn’t even let him finish. Another woman talked too much, trying to impress her with rehearsed lines. The third was so nervous that he could barely speak.
None of them were good enough.
Dhriti dismissed the last candidate and leaned back, closing her eyes for a moment.
She didn’t need someone who feared her. She needed someone competent. Someone unaffected by her reputation as the Ice Queen.
No one had been good enough.
------------
Miles away, in the depths of a shadowed alley, a man kneeled beside a dying body.
Tavish was no stranger to death.
For centuries, he had ruled the abyss, claiming souls with a mere thought, striking fear into the hearts of mortals and immortals alike.
But now? Now, he was stuck.
Three hundred years had passed since he last stepped foot in the abyss. Three hundred years of wandering the mortal world, unable to return.
Something had gone wrong.
He had been the most powerful of his kind, a king among demons, yet he had been cast out.
His power was fading.
And tonight, as he pulled the soul from the body before him, pain shot through his wrist.
He inhaled sharply, looking down. The mark on his skin glowed faintly, pulsing with an energy he hadn’t felt in centuries.
He had ignored it for years, refusing to acknowledge what it meant. But now, he couldn’t.
His time was running out.
He needed a way back.
And he needed it soon.
He disappeared into the shadows, reappearing in the place he had claimed as his temporary abode. But the moment he stepped inside, he knew he wasn’t alone.
Someone was waiting for him.
A woman sat lazily in his chair, her dark eyes glinting with mischief.
“Took you long enough,” she said, spinning a silver ring between her fingers.
Tavish exhaled sharply. “Yakshi.”
She smirked, her gaze flickering to the faint mark on his wrist. “Well, well. Look what we have here. The invincible Tavish, marked by fate itself. On the verge of destruction, are we?”
His jaw clenched. “If I wanted, I could end you with a snap of my fingers.”
Yakshi gasped dramatically, placing a hand on her chest. “Oh no, how terrifying! Except… we both know you won’t.”
She reached into her pocket and tossed something at him.
Tavish caught it mid-air, frowning down at the object in his hand. A sleek black card.
A gala invitation.
His brow furrowed. “Here I am trying to figure out how to reclaim my powers, and you want me to attend a human party?” His tone dripped with disdain.
Yakshi shrugged. “You think you’re above them, but maybe the solution to your problem is hiding among them.”
He scoffed. “And you expect me to believe that?”
She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Believe it or don’t. But that mark on your wrist? It’s no coincidence. It’s leading you somewhere. And I have a feeling this party is the first step.”
Tavish studied her, searching for deception. But Yakshi never spoke without reason. She was blessed—or cursed—with an intuition that was never wrong.
He let out a slow
breath, gripping the invitation tightly.
Something was waiting for him at that gala.
And whatever it was, it would change everything.
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