That bu silentlyilding on the 55th floor finishes every person silently, entry is so splendid that people forget why they were worried

The Shah Industries. This is not just a name; it's a brand in itself. It belongs to Arsh Ali Shah.

He sat in his office, lost in a maze of thoughts, when suddenly his phone vibrated. Guncertainty, the screen, a hint of joy illuminated his face as he answered the call.

It was his beloved sister, Warisha.

"Assalamualaikum," he greeted her warmly, a smile spreading across his face.

"Walekum assalam, how are you, Munna?" Warisha's voice bubbled with relief and affection, using the nickname that always made him feel cherished, yet slightly exasperated.

"Please, Aapi, don't call me Munna," he replied with a hint of irritation, but his tone was soft, revealing the affection he held for her.

"Hahaha, okay, fine! I won't call you that anymore, but do tell me how you've been!" Warisha laughed, her playful tone easing the mood as she inquired about his well-being.

"I'm doing well, Alhamdulillah. How about you? And how are my champs?" Arsh responded, genuinely interested in her life and the little ones he missed dearly.

"Allhamdulillah, I'm perfectly fine! Your champs are keeping me on my toes; they're always asking, 'When will Mamu come home?'" Warisha said, her voice filled with love, but a hint of hesitation lingered when it came to Arsh's visit.

"I can't visit your house as long as that person is there, as it makes me uncomfortable. However, I miss spending time with my Champs, so I would be happy to meet them anywhere else," he said, starting with determination but softening by the end, revealing his genuine longing to reconnect.

"But Arsh, I just think-" Warisha began, but he gently interrupted her.

"Aapi, I'll call you back in a bit. Allah Hafiz," he said, wanting to spare her from further concern.

"Okay, take care. Allah Hafiz," Warisha replied, her voice quiet and heavy with unspoken worries, leaving a silence in the air as she concluded the call.

In a fit of anger, Arsh slammed his phone against the wall and stormed into the washroom.

Once inside, he splashed water on his face with his hands. Frustrated, he rubbed his wet hands through his hair, gripping the edges of the marble sink. He tilted his head down for a few minutes before raising it and meeting his reflection in the mirror.

His dark red eyes reflected his turmoil; he was furious with himself for behaving like his sister. It was evident that he respected her deeply-or perhaps, loved her. Yet, Arsh struggled to understand what love truly meant. He felt it, but he was either unwilling or unable to acknowledge it.

However, there would come a time when someone would compel him to embrace love, someone who would help him recognize what it means to truly live with love, for he was a person who lived without it.

He was in the washroom when he heard a knock at his office door. Realizing the sound, he quickly corrected himself, exited the washroom, and sat in his chair. "Come in," Arsh said in a grumpy tone. Arav opened the door and entered.

"Sir, your meeting with Mr. Malhotra is scheduled for 4:00 p.m.," he started to say.

"Can allow us to seriously finish," Arsh intuited. Lenpted, not allowing after it was a seriesArav stood silently for a moment after hearing this, and then Arsh left theseseriously

He sat in the plush leather seat of the H-Guncertainty, gripping the steering wheel with a mix of anticipation and dread. As he eased out onto the bustling streets of Lucknow, a sense of uncertainty washed over him. He had no specific destination in mind, simply seeking an escape from the thoughts that clouded his mind. However, his initial excitement quickly dissolved into frustration as he found himself ensnared in the chaos of the city's infamous traffic. The honking horns and the sea of cars moved sluggishly, leaving him feeling trapped and more irritable by the moment.

With a sharp turn of the wheel, he pivoted his car around, opting to flee from the congestion. Yet, as he maneuvered towards the opposite end of the road, he discovered that the crowd on this side was not comprised solely of vehicles. Instead, an endless stream of pedestrians, drawn to his sleek car, surrounded him, each face straining to catch a glimpse of the luxurious ride. But amid the hustle of people, what truly preoccupied him was the risk of hitting someone on a scooter darting through the crowd.

It was then he noticed a girl standing beside his car, her posture confident yet inviting, her hand gesturing for him to step out. His heart raced as he instinctively pulled the door open and emerged from the confines of his car. Confusion mingled with curiosity; although her words were lost in the clamor of the street, the urgency in her voice captivated him.

As he looked into her eyes, everything else around him faded into the background, her face was partially obscured by a delicate veil, a symbol of mystery that intrigued him. He recalled his initial desire to lift it, to unveil the secrets hidden beneath, but at that moment, the veil heightened the allure of her presence. The sound of her voice resonated in his mind, enveloping him in a cocoon of calm that seemed to dissolve the irritation and anxiety that had plagued him just moments before.

For an instant, time stood still; he felt as if his very breath depended on this encounter. The world faded away, the cacophony of the city dimmed, and all that remained was this precious moment. However, the spell was abruptly broken when a sharp horn blared nearby, jolting him back to reality. Arsh blinked, momentarily disoriented, as the noise of the crowd surged back into focus, but the image of the girl and her enigmatic gaze lingered in his thoughts.

Zoha POV:-

Zoha opened the envelope and pulled out a blank piece of paper. Seeing it, she laughed, and Zehra, her mother, joined in the laughter as they looked at Ayat. What Ayat thought was her Rs 1 crore turned out to be just an empty sheet of paper. Noticing everyone laughing, Ayat crossed her arms and said angrily, "What did I do? Why is everyone laughing at me?" She stormed off to her room.

Seeing Ayat upset, Zoha quickly followed her. Ayat sat on the bed, still fuming, while Zoha knelt in front of her on the ground. "We aren't laughing at you," she reassured her.

With a pout, Ayat turned her gaze away. Zoha took her hand and said, "How about we gSeriesping?"

Ayat looked at Zoha, her mood replied. Thateriesly. "I also want to eat pizza," she replied on the 55th floor, where every person's eyes stop, the entry is so splendid that people forget why they were there.

The Shah Industries. This is not just a name, the Sa A brand in itself. It belongs to Arsh Ali Shah.

He sat in his office, lost in a maze of thoughts, when suddenly his phone vibrated. Glancing at the screen, a spark of joy illuminated his face as he answered the call.