Sia Malhotra trusted very few things in life now.
Loaded guns.
Encrypted accounts.
Revenge.
Everything else eventually betrayed you.
Including your own mind.
Rain blurred the Mumbai skyline beyond the glass walls of her penthouse office while the city pulsed beneath her like a living organism — loud, corrupt, impossible to kill. Fifty-two floors above the streets, Sia stood alone beside the massive window in a silk ivory blouse and black trousers, one hand wrapped around a crystal glass of whiskey untouched for nearly an hour.
The storm outside reminded her too much of that night.
Unfortunately—
everything did.
Thunder cracked softly.
Her eyes drifted toward the reflection staring back at her through the rain-covered glass.
Beautiful. Controlled. Elegant.
A liar.
People feared Sia Malhotra now.
Not publicly, of course.
Publicly, she was:
brilliant businesswoman
heir to the Malhotra fortune
youngest female chairperson in Asia’s defense-tech market
financial predator
media obsession
But privately?
Men twice her age lowered their voices when speaking to her.
Board members avoided meeting her eyes.
Three rival businessmen had disappeared in the last eleven months after attempting to sabotage Malhotra Global Holdings.
No evidence ever linked back to her.
That was the impressive part.
Sia never got emotional during revenge.
Only creative.
The soft buzz of the office door interrupted her thoughts.
“Ma’am?”
Anika stepped inside carrying a tablet against her chest nervously.
Sia didn’t turn around immediately.
“Yes?”
“The Geneva acquisition went through.”
“Expected.”
“And the Indonesian mineral deal?”
A pause.
“Also successful.”
Finally, Sia looked over her shoulder.
“Then why do you sound afraid?”
Anika swallowed visibly.
Because everyone eventually learned the terrifying truth about Sia:
she noticed everything.
“The board members are concerned,” her assistant admitted carefully. “They think expanding into mining and antiquities recovery is… risky.”
A faint smile touched Sia’s lips.
Mining.
Gold.
Rare earth minerals.
Ancient artifacts stolen long before governments even knew they vanished.
Every road she investigated led back toward the same hidden empire.
A ghost network controlling wealth older than nations.
And somewhere inside it—
were the men responsible for ruining her life seven years ago.
Or perhaps…
the man.
Sia’s jaw tightened subtly.
“Fear makes old men predictable,” she said quietly. “That’s why they never survive power for long.”
Anika hesitated.
“There’s something else.”
Sia’s gaze sharpened immediately.
“The Raghav Bedi situation?”
“No.”
A strange expression crossed Anika’s face.
“Your office cameras.”
Cold silence settled instantly.
“What about them?”
“We reviewed last night’s footage after your request.”
Sia waited.
Anika looked uncomfortable now.
“Between 1:12 and 1:17 a.m… the cameras show someone inside your office.”
Sia’s fingers tightened slightly around the whiskey glass.
“Who?”
Another hesitation.
“That’s the problem.”
Anika slowly placed the tablet on the desk.
Sia walked toward it calmly.
The footage played silently.
Empty office.
Rain outside.
Lightning flickering through glass.
Then—
movement.
Her.
Sia stared without breathing as the footage showed herself entering the office long after everyone had left.
But she didn’t remember coming here last night.
The woman on-screen moved strangely.
Slowly.
Almost dreamlike.
She walked toward the giant office mirror and stood there for nearly two full minutes without moving.
Watching herself.
Then—
the footage glitched violently.
Static.
Distortion.
When the image returned—
the screen showed Sia smiling.
Not normally.
Wrong.
Too wide.
Too knowing.
Anika spoke quietly behind her.
“You were alone the entire time, ma’am.”
Sia kept staring at the screen.
Because she didn’t remember smiling.
Then the video continued.
On-screen Sia leaned closer to the mirror slowly…
…and wrote something across the glass with her fingertip.
The footage quality distorted before the words fully appeared.
But one thing remained horrifyingly visible.
Three letters.
S.
V.
M.
Her initials.
A sharp pain exploded behind Sia’s eyes instantly.
Flash.
Rainwater.
Blood running over masculine skin.
Her own shaking voice whispering:
“Mine.”
The whiskey glass shattered inside her hand.
Anika startled violently.
“Ma’am!”
Sia blinked hard.
The memory disappeared immediately.
Only pain remained.
“I’m fine.”
Blood dripped slowly from her palm onto the marble floor.
But she barely noticed.
Because something else bothered her more.
In the footage—
just before the camera glitched—
someone had briefly appeared behind her reflection.
Tall.
Blurry.
Watching.
Her pulse quickened.
“Enhance the video.”
“We tried.”
“Try harder.”
“There’s another problem,” Anika admitted softly.
Sia looked up sharply.
“The security logs show the penthouse elevator was accessed last night.”
Coldness crept slowly through her spine.
“No one came upstairs.”
“That’s what security thought too.”
Anika’s voice dropped lower.
“Until they found three guards unconscious in the underground parking level.”
Silence.
Rain hammered harder against the windows.
Sia slowly turned back toward the city.
Someone was watching her.
Not casually.
Closely.
Intimately.
Like they already knew which nightmares still woke her at 3 a.m.
Like they knew she checked locks three times before sleeping.
Like they knew she hated mirrors after midnight.
A soft ache pulsed behind her eyes again.
Another flash.
Dark grey eyes.
A bleeding chest.
Her own voice laughing softly.
“Ab yaad rahega…”
(Now you’ll remember.)
Sia inhaled sharply.
Gone again.
Always gone.
“Ma’am?”
She realized Anika was still watching her nervously.
Sia straightened immediately.
Composed again.
Dangerous again.
“Double security,” she ordered quietly. “Nobody enters this building without my approval.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And Anika?”
“Yes?”
Sia’s gaze drifted toward the rain-covered reflection in the glass again.
For one terrible second—
she thought the reflection moved before she did.
Smiling faintly.
Patiently.
Like it knew something she didn’t.
Sia looked away immediately.
“Destroy the footage.”
Anika frowned slightly.
“But—”
“Now.”
The assistant nodded and left quickly.
The office fell silent again afterward.
Only rain remained.
Sia stood motionless for a long time before finally walking toward the mirror near her desk.
Slowly.
Carefully.
The woman staring back looked exhausted.
Haunted.
But normal.
Thank God.
Sia reached toward the glass hesitantly.
Her fingers stopped abruptly when she noticed words faintly written near the corner of the mirror.
Words invisible unless the light struck properly.
Fresh.
As if written recently by someone’s fingertip.
YOU LOOK BETTER ANGRY.
Her blood turned ice cold.
She stumbled backward instantly.
No.
No no no—
She had checked this mirror earlier.
Those words were not there before.
Unless—
Her breathing became uneven.
A dangerous thought entered her mind quietly.
What if the person watching her.....Was already inside her life?
Something felt deeply wrong.
Not the kind of wrong caused by danger.
The kind caused by memory trying to crawl out of a grave.
And for one horrifying second—
she could have sworn another voice inside her head whispered:
He came for you again.
And somewhere else in the city, hidden behind layers of power, shadows, and another man’s identity—
Aarav Vashisht listened silently as someone updated him through an encrypted phone call.
“She’s getting closer.”
A pause.
Then Aarav’s deep voice answered calmly from the darkness:
“No.”
Thunder rolled outside.
“She’s remembering.”
I write dark romance stories filled with obsession, revenge, morally grey characters, and emotional chaos. Your support helps me continue creating intense worlds, unforgettable characters, and longer, better chapters for readers who love dangerous love stories as much as I do. đź–¤
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