Author's POV:

Aman leaned back in his chair, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he surveyed the boardroom. The walls were adorned with trophies of his triumphs, each one a reminder of how he had outmanoeuvred everyone in his path. Today's meeting was just another opportunity for him to tighten his grip on the competition, particularly Anshika Antil, who had so foolishly cancelled her attendance.

The manager shuffled nervously as he addressed the room. "As you all know, Anshika won't be joining us today. She's dealing with... personal matters."

A ripple of murmurs passed through the board members. Aman could almost taste their curiosity, their desire to know what could possibly keep the fiery fashion mogul away from the spotlight. But they didn't need to know. He was relishing the thought of her disarray, the chaos he had sown in her carefully curated world.

"Personal matters?" he repeated, feigning concern. "Is that what she's calling it now? I hope it's nothing too serious." The words dripped from his tongue like venom. He could almost see the threads of anxiety weaving through the air, tightening around the other attendees.

"Maybe we should reschedule this meeting until she's back," one board member suggested, his voice laced with uncertainty.

"Reschedule?" Aman laughed, a low, mocking sound that filled the room. "Why should we delay our progress because of her? This is our time to shine, not hers. Let's proceed." He glanced at the agenda laid out in front of him, eyes glinting with malice. Every decision made today would be a step toward solidifying his empire and undermining Anshika's efforts further.

He leaned forward, clasping his hands together, and continued, "We need to focus on how we can capitalise on this opportunity. Anshika's absence is a weakness we cannot ignore. Let's discuss strategies to leverage this."

The atmosphere grew tense as his words hung in the air, the board members exchanging glances filled with uncertainty. They were all aware of Aman's tactics—cutthroat and ruthless. But none dared to oppose him, knowing that in this world of business, weakness was a death sentence.

With each suggestion he made, he felt the satisfaction swell within him. He was the puppet master, and the strings were all in his hands. Anshika's misfortune was his golden opportunity, and he would not waste it.

Just then, his phone buzzed, breaking through his thoughts. It was a text from Riya Sharma, My younger sister. Need to talk. Important.

Aman's smirk widened. How delightful. Riya was clearly concerned about Anshika, and he could already envision the drama that would unfold. He typed a quick reply, Can we meet later? I have a busy schedule.

As he tucked his phone away, the meeting resumed, but his mind was elsewhere. He plotted, schemed, and revealed the chaos he had orchestrated. This was just the beginning.

As the meeting wore on, Aman's thoughts spiralled into a darkened realm of strategy and manipulation. He focused on the proposals in front of him, but his mind couldn't help but drift back to Anshika. Her fierce determination had always been an obstacle, but now she was wounded, vulnerable, and he intended to exploit that.

"Aman?" The voice of his marketing director pulled him back to the present. "What do you think about the proposed ad campaign for the new product line?"

Aman straightened up, slipping seamlessly back into the role of the attentive leader. "I think it's pedestrian at best," he replied, his tone cool and dismissive. "We need something that captures the market's attention—something bold and provocative. Make the competitors think twice about their own strategies."

A few heads nodded in agreement, but Aman's gaze was still focused on the door, waiting for a sign of Anshika. He felt a twisted satisfaction in knowing that her absence was due to his orchestrations. If she was weak now, then she was ripe for the taking.

As the meeting adjourned, he stepped outside, the sunlight hitting him like a warm embrace. He had a few more hours to plot before the day was over. He needed to make sure the board was completely on his side, and he knew just how to do it.

Aman pulled out his phone, tapping out a quick message to his contacts in the media. Need a favour. Let's get some stories circulating about Anshika's struggles. The more speculation, the better.

The response came almost immediately, and he felt a thrill run through him. The media loved drama, and he intended to feed them just enough to create a scandalous narrative. If they could paint Anshika as a floundering entrepreneur, the market would start to lose faith in her brand. And that was just the opening he needed.

A smug smile crept across his face as he strolled back to his office, his mind buzzing with ideas. He envisioned a series of headlines splashed across newspapers and social media, casting doubt on Anshika's abilities. The more they questioned her, the more he could solidify his own position as the unrivalled leader in their industry.

Once inside his office, he closed the door, relishing the solitude. He pulled up the latest reports on Anshika's company, studying her financials, marketing strategies, and product lines. Every weakness, every oversight, would be fodder for his plan.

His phone buzzed again, and it was Riya. Can we meet soon? I'm worried about Anshika.

Aman considered his options. Meeting with Riya could provide him insights into Anshika's current state. Perhaps he could plant some seeds of doubt in her mind about her sister's capabilities. If Riya felt uncertain, it would only serve to weaken Anshika further.

Let's meet at the café near your office. I have some thoughts to share that could help, he texted back.

With that, he leaned back in his chair, satisfaction washing over him. This was not just a game; it was a full-blown war, and he was more than ready to win.

Aman spent the next hour mapping out his plans, confident that with every calculated move, he was one step closer to crushing Anshika's ambitions. The world saw him as the charming businessman, but in the shadows, he revelled in the chaos he could create.

An hour later, he made his way to the café, the thrill of anticipation buzzing in his veins. He couldn't wait to see what Riya had to say, knowing that every piece of information was another tool in his arsenal.

As he approached the café, he spotted Riya sitting at a table, her brow furrowed with concern. He flashed a charming smile, knowing that even though she was worried, he could easily manipulate her emotions.

"Riya!" he called out, sliding into the seat opposite her. "You look like you've seen a ghost. What's going on?"