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In a stunningly elaborate dress that flowed like liquid silk, she seemed to descend gracefully from the realm of fairies. Her presence was magical, causing everyone around her to momentarily halt their activities, transfixed by her enchanting beauty. It felt as if the very air carried a whisper, proclaiming, "You are a beautiful fairy; you know where your true radiance lies."

Just then, a hand extended towards her, invitingly. She hesitated for a moment, her gaze drawn slowly to the hand before traveling upwards to meet the eyes of the man who belonged to it. Clad in a pristine white tuxedo that contrasted sharply with the vibrant colors surrounding them, he appeared like a vision from a storybook. Confusion swirled within her as she grappled with the unexpected intensity of the moment.

Their hands met a gentle touch that sent ripples of electricity through her. Their eyes locked, and in that instant, the world around them faded, leaving only the two of them. As he leaned closer, he tenderly brushed her lips with his thumb, their breaths mingling in the air between them, creating an unspoken bond of longing and curiosity.

Suddenly, the serenity of the moment shattered as cold water splashed on her face.

"Zohaaaaaaaaaaaaa, get up! You're going to be late for school!" a voice called, yanking her back into reality. Startled, she screamed, "Ammiiiiiiiiiiii!" her voice high-pitched as she jolted upright, heart racing as if she had been awakened from a deep slumber.

"Ya Allah, asse kon jagata hain behan!" she exclaimed, looking be wilderedly at her sister, still processing the remnants of her dream. Her sister smiled mischievously, "Assa Ayat karti hain, miss Sleeping Beauty! Now, come on, Ammi is calling you," she teased before stepping out of the room, leaving Zoha to contemplate her dream.

She sat up, still feeling a twinge of embarrassment at the vividness of her fantasy. "Zoha, thodi toh sharam kar," she admonished herself, her hand instinctively covering her face in a futile attempt to hide her blush. Then, feeling the weight of fatigue once more, she stretched out on her bed lazily, allowing herself to drift back to sleep.

**Being Zoha, she surrendered to slumber once again.**

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After 30 minutes

As was all too customary, Zoha woke up late once again. Her mother's voice echoed through the house, mixing with the sound of clattering pots and pans. Finally, she fought through the heaviness of sleep and managed to rise from her cozy cocoon of blankets.

"Ye ladki kabhi waqt per uth nhi sakti! There's just half an hour left! Please, come quickly!" her mother called out, exasperation lacing her voice as she retreated to the kitchen, devoted to preparing breakfast.

"Ji Ammi, bas uth gayi," Zoha murmured, rubbing her eyes as she succumbed to the warmth of daylight streaming through her window.

"Ya Allah, koi mujhe sukoon se sone kyu nahi deta! Kya school jaana zaroori hai?" she grumbled, feeling the weight of the day pressing on her shoulders. "Ye sahi hain, adhi zindagi school me padhte padhte nikl gayi aur ab school me padhte padhte niklegi," she sighed to herself as she reluctantly pulled herself together.

Dressed in her usual ensemble, she slipped into a simple yet elegant kurti paired with white trousers, the fabric soft against her skin. She wrapped a scarf around her neck, completing her look with small silver jhumkas that glimmered in the light. Finally, she tied her hair back into a neat bun, evoking a sense of both simplicity and grace.

Once ready, the aroma of breakfast wafted from the kitchen, beckoning her. She hurried into the culinary haven, spotting her mother busily tending to the stove. "Ammi, lunch ready hain?" she inquired, her stomach rumbling in protest.

"Haa, bas thoda intezar karo," her mother responded, her voice warm despite the morning rush. "Girl, have your breakfast before you head out."

"Ammi, I'm getting late! Allah Hafiz!" she called out as she corrected her hijab. The black abaya she wore flowed gracefully around her, affording glimpses of her expressive eyes beneath its fabric.

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"Sir, everything is set as you instructed. Mr. Malhotra is waiting for you in the meeting room, and don't forget the press conference about the new product follows closely," the assistant relayed, his pace brisk as he walked behind his boss.

"Okay, and what have you discovered regarding the Lucknow project? Any news?" he asked in a tone as cold as steel.

"No, sir. According to the latest records, it appears that our project will face hurdles. The owners of the properties in the project's vicinity are raising objections, making it challenging to move forward," Arav reported, his demeanor serious.

As he entered the meeting room, the air thick with anticipation, he noticed the garbled murmurs quieting abruptly. The men present regarded him with a mix of respect and trepidation, while the lone woman's gaze lingered on him, captivated.

And why wouldn't they be? Mr. Arsh Ali Shah commanded attention effortlessly. Clad in a tailored black suit that accentuated his athletic build, he exuded power and confidence. It wasn't just his looks that drew people in; it was the aura of authority he projected. Even the men in the room found themselves unable to look away, while countless women fantasized about even a moment of his attention.

He was not just a businessman; he was a titan, the youngest billionaire in India, and a demanding bachelor with a reputation that preceded him. His charisma was magnetic, leaving countless hearts fluttering at the mere thought of his presence. Who might dare to capture his heart? Whose laughter would echo through his lavish life, lighting up the shadows of his world?

As he prepared for the day ahead, the prospect of new challenges and the potential for unexpected encounters lingered in the air, thick with the promise of what was to come.

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She trudged home from school, her feet heavy with fatigue as the weight of the day settled on her shoulders. The familiar rhythm of her favorite BTS song pulsed through her earphones, wrapping her in a comforting cocoon of sound. With each beat, it felt as though the minutes of her journey slipped away, and she momentarily forgot about the long day.

As she approached her front door, anticipation flickered within her but was quickly overshadowed by an unexpected chill. With a soft, hesitant knock, she waited for her mother to greet her, but instead, the door swung open to reveal a figure she least expected, a person she had tried her best to forget. Her heart raced, and an icy grip of anxiety encased her chest. It felt as if her surroundings had momentarily frozen; the bustling world around her faded, leaving her in a bubble of discomfort. She stood rooted in place, torn between the desire to rush inside and the paralyzing fear that held her back.

The sight of him shattered her tranquility, spoiling her once beautiful, serene moment like splattering water on a carefully crafted painting. Memories she had fought to bury surged to the surface, igniting a flame of confusion in her mind. Just then, her sister's voice cut through the tension like a lifebuoy in tumultuous waters. "Zoha, come inside quickly! Why are you just standing there at the door? Come fast!"

Her sister's insistence snapped her out of the stifling hold of her past. Without acknowledging the unwelcome presence in the doorway, she retreated a step, her heart pounding in her chest. She walked back through the gate and into the safety of her home, but that safety felt fragile at that moment.

As she paced away, her mind spiraled into a haze. She didn't know where she was going, or even why she felt compelled to leave the scene. All she knew was that she wanted to escape the engulfing waves of emotion that threatened to drown her. The last three years of her life had become a relentless internal struggle-a battle between longing and moving on.

"Why has he come back?" she whispered to herself, her thoughts jumbled and frantic. In her heart, she sensed the echo of her spirit replying, "Maybe for you." A flicker of defensiveness surged inside her, "But I as happy without him," she argued quietly. The inner dialogue was relentless. "Leave all of this, Zoha; will you forgive now that he has returned- not just to your life, but to your home?"

She was lost in a whirlwind of thoughts when a sudden beam of light pierced the darkness, jolting her back to reality. Voices surrounded her, calling out urgently, but the chaos felt distant and surreal as if she were fighting a relentless battle within. Frantically, she squinted through the confusion, and then!-there it was: the glaring headlights of the approaching eighty-car convoy.

Panic surged through her veins, and with a rush of fear, she clamped her eyes shut, rooted to the spot. It felt as if invisible chains had bound her feet, trapping her in that moment. In that split second of darkness behind her eyelids, she wrestled with the idea that maybe this was all there was to her life so far. The stakes had never felt higher, and the air crackled with tension as she stood on the brink of something monumental

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Here is Chapter 1.

I hope you like it!

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