●~Sparks and Shadows~●

The ballroom glowed with opulence as the elite of the business world gathered for the most anticipated event of the year—The Business Excellence Awards.

All eyes were on one man—Sidharth Rana, the magnetic, ruthless man behind the global fashion empire NOIR RANA.

Everyone expected his name to be called. After all, he owned the room with every step he took.

The host opened the golden envelope, smiled, and announced:

“And the Businessperson of the Year award goes to… Sana Mehra!”

Silence swept across the room before turning into cautious applause.

Sidharth’s jaw tightened. His smirk vanished as his eyes followed the woman walking gracefully to the stage in a white silk gown.

Sana Mehra—a name few in the elite had taken seriously—now held the golden trophy.

Founder of Mehra Muse, an eco-luxury fashion startup that had suddenly taken the industry by storm. Sana's voice was calm as she accepted the award, her tone filled with elegance and quiet strength.

From the corner of the room, Sidharth watched like a lion sizing up his prey.

“I want everything about her,” he growled to his assistant afterward.

“Her business, her strategy, her past… and her personal life.”

Hours later, he had the report.

Sana Mehra, CEO of Mehra Muse. Revolutionary use of AI-styled fashion mixed with sustainability. Hugely popular with Gen Z and the conscious-luxury market.

Viraj Malhotra — her boyfriend and the face of her brand. Fashion influencer. Massive youth following. Loyal. Charismatic.

“Let’s see how loyal their world stays when I pull the ground from under their feet,” he muttered.

He dialed again.

“Block her key shipments. Buy out her fabric suppliers. Leak fake stories about her tech. Make her doubt her team. Let’s crush her, silently first.”

But Sidharth wanted more—a public spectacle.

“Get us into Fashion Elites Week. Back-to-back slots. Her vs me. Let’s give the audience a show they won’t forget.”

At 7:00 pm

The Fashion Elites launch party buzzed with energy. When Sana entered in an emerald satin gown, the room paused. Across the floor, Sidharth Rana locked eyes with her. Their first meeting—silent, charged, and unmissable.

He walked toward her, each step sharp and calculated.

“Sana Malhotra,” he said, his voice cool and sharp.

“Congratulations on your... surprising win.”

Sana smiled. “Thank you. I heard surprises keep the industry alive. Right?”

His smirk widened. “Let’s see how long you keep the crown.”

She tilted her head. “Let’s see if you can handle competition with grace.”

“I don’t compete. I dominate,” Sidharth replied darkly, stepping closer.

Before things could escalate, Viraj joined them.

“Babe, everything okay?” he asked Sana.

Sidharth looked him up and down.

“So you’re the boyfriend? Cute.”

“And you're the insecure one, I guess?” Viraj snapped.

Sidharth chuckled. “Just the man who's going to crush both your dreams.”

Viraj’s fists tightened, but Sana gently touched his arm.

“Viraj. Not here. He’s not worth it.”

Sidharth watched her, amused and impressed.

“Smart girl,” he said with a wink, then walked away.

But the war had begun. Public. Personal. Savage.

At Fashion Elites Week, Sana’s brand Mehra Muse was a fresh breeze of color and conscience. The crowd admired her daring sustainability and fluid gender-neutral silhouettes.

Then came NOIR RANA.

Bold. Dominating. Power-wrapped silhouettes. Models draped in black steel greys and velvets stormed the runway like gods.

When the winner was announced, there was no surprise—

“NOIR RANA is this year’s Fashion Elites Showcase Champion!”

Sidharth stepped up, collected the award with smug ease, and immediately sought out Sana backstage.

He found her calm, sipping champagne.

Sidharth found her alone, sipping from a champagne glass, calm as ever.

Sidharth: “Kya baat hai, Miss Mehra. Trophy le jaane ka mazaa toh kuch aur hi hota hai, na?”

Sana (without looking at him): “Aur haar kar bhi zakhmi na ho toh samajhna chahiye ki asli jeet kiski hui hai.”

He stepped closer, amused.

Sidharth: “Tumhare ideas thode naye hain, par yeh game experience se jeeta jaata hai.”

Sana (turning to face him): “Aur kabhi kabhi ek nayi soch, ek purani saltanat ko hila sakti hai , Mr. Rana.”

Sidharth (smirking): “You’re confident. That’s cute. But remember, business is not about cute—it’s about killing.”

Sana: “I don’t believe in killing, Mr. Rana. I believe in evolving.”

Sidharth (stepping closer, tone darker): “Bas dekhte raho, evolve karte karte kahin extinct na ho jao.”

She held his gaze with graceful defiance.

Sana: “Aur aap dekhte rahiye, kahin kisi naye tufaan se aapki ego na udd jaaye.”

He scoffed, gave her a look dripping with challenge, then turned and walked away—his coat swaying behind like a villain exiting his scene.

Later That Night — Balcony Scene

The rooftop was quiet now. Sana stood under the soft glow of fairy lights, her hair falling gently over her shoulders. Viraj wrapped a shawl around her.

Viraj: “I hate how he talks to you.”

Sana (smiling faintly): “Let him talk. His words don’t define me.”

Viraj leaned closer, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

Viraj: “But you have no idea how hard it is to stay calm when someone throws shade at the woman I…”

(He stopped himself.)

She looked up, surprised. Their eyes met, close… too close.

The silence grew heavier. They didn't kiss—but the tension hung thick. Her hand rested on his chest for just a second too long.

From a nearby corner, Sidharth watched in silence, fists clenched.

“Drama kar raha hai. Cheap model wannabe…” he muttered under his breath.

He turned away before they saw him, a storm brewing in his eyes.

“Enjoy your moment, Viraj Malhotra. Bahut jaldi yeh sapna tootega.”

And with that, the battle was far from over.

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