Chapter 4: The perfect strike

Two Weeks Later

The morning sun streamed through the tall glass windows of Ishika Sehgal's office, bathing the room in warm light. But the warmth did nothing to quell the icy dread creeping into her chest as her assistant, Tara, burst into the room, holding a tablet.

"Ishika!" Tara exclaimed, panic lacing her voice. "You need to see this."

Ishika, sipping her coffee, raised an eyebrow. "What now? Did someone steal our design patents again?"

Tara hesitated, her face pale. "No. It's worse. Much worse."

Confused, Ishika took the tablet and froze as the headline screamed at her:

"SEHGAL EMPIRE CAUGHT IN BRIBERY SCANDAL: ISHIKA SEHGAL ACCUSED OF ILLEGAL DEALINGS!"

Her breath hitched, and her hands trembled slightly as she scrolled through the article. Words like corruption, bribe, and corporate fraud jumped out at her like sharp daggers.

"This is..." Ishika's voice faltered. Her heart raced, but her mind was already piecing things together. This wasn't just a random attack. This was deliberate.

Her grip tightened on the tablet as realization struck. "Yash Singhania" she hissed through gritted teeth, her voice barely audible but brimming with venom.

"Who else?" Tara said, crossing her arms. "This reeks of his arrogance."

The intercom buzzed suddenly, and Ishika's receptionist spoke in a frantic tone. "Ma'am, the media is here. They're outside the building, asking for a statement!"

Ishika shot to her feet. "Of course, they are." She grabbed her blazer, her jaw set. "Call security. Make sure none of those vultures get inside."

Tara followed her, her tone urgent. "What are you going to do?"

Ishika stopped at the door, her eyes blazing. "I'm going to remind Yash Singhania why no one messes with Ishika Sehgal."

━━༻❁༺━━

Across the city, in the sleek boardroom of Singhania Enterprises, Yash sat at the head of the table, his posture relaxed as he glanced at his phone. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he read the news article.

Dhruv, seated beside him, chuckled as he scrolled through social media reactions. "Man, you've really outdone yourself this time. The comments are gold. 'Sehgal Empire Exposed.' 'Ishika Sehgal: Business Shark or Bribe Queen?' Genius!"

Yash leaned back in his chair, a picture of calm confidence. "She had it coming."

Dhruv raised an eyebrow. "Don't you think this is a bit... extreme? I mean, fake bribery charges with media coverage? That's brutal, even for you."

Yash's eyes darkened slightly. "She humiliated me in front of my team, Dhruv. She smashed my car, insulted me, and acted like she could get away with it. No one does that."

Dhruv smirked. "And here I thought it was personal."

"It's not" Yash said sharply, his tone leaving no room for argument. "It's business. And business is about winning."

As the meeting continued, Yash's phone buzzed again. A notification popped up: "BREAKING: Ishika Sehgal Responds to Bribery Allegations!"

He glanced at it, a flicker of satisfaction crossing his face. "Checkmate" he muttered to himself.

━━༻❁༺━━

Outside the Sehgal Empire headquarters, chaos reigned. Reporters shouted questions, cameras flashed, and microphones were thrust forward as Ishika stepped out of her car.

"Ms. Sehgal, is it true you accepted bribes for the last deal?"
"Are the allegations against you legitimate?"
"Is this the end of Sehgal Empire's reign?"

Ishika held her head high, refusing to let the panic bubbling inside her show. She pushed past the crowd, flanked by security, and entered the building.

Inside, Tara was pacing nervously. "This is bad, Ishika. The media isn't going to let this go."

"I know," Ishika said, her voice steely. She grabbed her phone and dialed a number. The call went straight to voicemail.

"Coward" she muttered, ending the call.

Tara placed a hand on her shoulder. "What's the plan?"

Ishika's eyes burned with determination. "The plan is simple. I'm going to remind Yash Singhania why you don't poke the lioness."

━━༻❁༺━━

Ishika stormed into Singhania Enterprises, her heels clicking furiously against the marble floor. Tara trailed behind her, muttering, "You're going to kill him, aren't you?"

"If I don't, it'll be a miracle" Ishika snapped, pushing open the glass doors to Yash's office.

Inside, Yash was seated at his desk, his usual air of composure in place. Dhruv stood nearby, grinning like a mischievous child.

"Well, well" Dhruv said. "Look who's here. Scandals wali didi!"

"Shut up, Dhruv!" Ishika snapped, her eyes fixed on Yash. "You. Outside. Now."

Yash raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. "And why would I do that?"

"Because if you don't, I'll make sure this office becomes a crime scene and you end up being murdered." Ishika said, her voice dangerously low.

Dhruv whistled. "Yikes. She's scary when she's mad."

"Leave, Dhruv" Yash said, his tone firm. Dhruv shrugged and sauntered out, winking at Tara on his way.

When they were alone, Ishika stepped closer to Yash's desk, her fury barely contained.

"Do you think this is a game?" she demanded. "Do you think you can ruin my reputation and walk away smiling?"

Yash smirked, standing to meet her glare. "It's not personal, Sehgal. It's business. You know, the thing you're supposed to be good at?"

"You crossed a line" Ishika said, her voice shaking with anger.

"You crossed it first" Yash shot back, his voice rising. "Or did you forget the public humiliation? The windshield? The insults?"

They stood inches apart, their anger crackling like electricity between them.

"I will destroy you" Ishika said, her voice trembling with rage and conviction.

Yash leaned in, his voice a dangerous whisper. "Not if I destroy you first."

The tension in Yash's office was palpable. Ishika's fists clenched at her sides, her nails digging into her palms as she glared at him. The smug smirk on Yash's face only fueled her anger further.

"Why are you like this?" Ishika spat, her voice breaking slightly as she took a step closer. "Do you think being heartless and cruel makes you superior? Does it make you feel powerful?"

Yash's smirk faltered for a fraction of a second, but he quickly recovered. "It's called strategy, Sehgal. Something you clearly lack."

"Oh, is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night?" Ishika shot back, her voice trembling. "That you're just playing the game? Let me tell you something, Yash. There's a difference between being strategic and being a monster."

Yash's jaw tightened, his calm facade slipping. "And what about you, Ishika? Always playing the victim, always so quick to blame everyone else for your failures."

"My failures?" Ishika laughed bitterly, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "You don't know anything about me or my life, Singhania. Don't you dare assume you do."

Yash stepped closer, his voice dropping to a cold, quiet tone. "Oh, I know enough. I know you've spent your entire life trying to prove something to a father who's too dead to care and a family name that's already tarnished."

Ishika's breath hitched, and her eyes widened in shock. "You-"

"Don't act surprised" Yash continued, his tone cutting like a blade. "You think you're special, Ishika? That your pain is unique? Welcome to the real world. We all have scars. Some of us just don't parade them around for sympathy."

Her hand shot up instinctively, and for a moment, it looked like she might slap him. But she stopped herself, her hand trembling mid-air.

"You're disgusting" she whispered, her voice breaking. "You think you're invincible, don't you? That being perfect and untouchable will make you happy? Newsflash, Yash: Perfection is lonely. And one day, when your empire crumbles, you'll have no one left to blame but yourself."

Yash's eyes darkened, and for the first time, his voice wavered. "Better lonely than pathetic."

The words hit her like a punch to the gut, but she refused to let him see her crumble. "You're not perfect, Yash. You're broken. Just like me. The difference is, I'm not afraid to admit it."

For a brief moment, silence hung between them, heavy with unspoken truths and unresolved pain. Then Yash turned away, his shoulders stiff. "Get out."

Ishika blinked, caught off guard by his sudden retreat. "Excuse me?"

"I said, get out!" Yash barked, his voice louder this time.

"Gladly!" Ishika spat, turning on her heel and storming toward the door. But before she could leave, she stopped and looked back at him, her voice trembling with anger and something else-something raw and unfiltered.

"I used to think you were just a rival" she said softly. "But now I see what you really are: a coward hiding behind his own arrogance."

She didn't wait for his reaction. The sound of the door slamming echoed through the office, leaving Yash alone with his thoughts.

As the door closed, Yash leaned against his desk, running a hand through his hair. Her words echoed in his mind, louder and sharper with every repetition.

"You're broken. Just like me."

Dhruv entered cautiously, having heard the argument from outside. "That was... intense," he said, attempting to lighten the mood. "You okay, man?"

Yash didn't respond. His jaw tightened, and he clenched his fists, the anger and frustration simmering just beneath the surface.

"She doesn't know what she's talking about" Yash muttered, more to himself than to Dhruv.

"Doesn't she?" Dhruv asked, his tone uncharacteristically serious. "She hit a nerve, didn't she?"

Yash shot him a glare. "Stay out of it, Dhruv."

Dhruv held up his hands in mock surrender. "Fine. But for the record, you might want to think about why she gets under your skin so much."

Yash didn't respond. He stared out the window, the city skyline blurring as his mind replayed every word of their argument.

━━༻❁༺━━

Back in her car, Ishika sat in silence, her hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Tara sat beside her, hesitant to speak.

"You okay?" Tara finally asked.

Ishika let out a shaky breath, her voice trembling. "No, I'm not okay. I'm angry. And I'm hurt. But most of all, I'm done."

Tara frowned. "Done with what?"

"With playing by his rules" Ishika said, her voice gaining strength. "If Yash Singhania thinks he can break me, he's in for a rude awakening."

Her eyes burned with determination as she started the car. "Let's see how perfect he looks when I'm done with him."

━━༻❁༺━━

NEXT DAY

The next day, afternoon, Ishika stood before a sea of reporters, the bright flashes of cameras reflecting off her pristine white blazer. The hall buzzed with murmurs, anticipation thick in the air. Ishika, however, remained calm, her head held high, and her expression one of steely determination.

Tara stood to the side, watching her friend closely. "You've got this, Ishika" she muttered under her breath.

Ishika stepped forward to the podium, her eyes scanning the room. The whispers ceased, replaced by an expectant silence. She took a deep breath and began.

"Good morning" she started, her voice firm and unwavering. "I am here to address the baseless allegations that have been made against me and my company over the past few days."

The crowd erupted into questions, but Ishika raised a hand to silence them. "I will answer all your queries, but first, let me make one thing clear: I have never, and will never, resort to unethical practices to achieve success. The Sehgal legacy is built on integrity and hard work, not deceit."

A reporter from the front row stood up. "Ms. Sehgal, what do you have to say about the video evidence circulating online?"

Ishika's eyes didn't waver. "The video evidence in question is a fabrication" she replied confidently. "An attempt by certain individuals to tarnish my reputation and undermine my success. I have already filed a formal complaint, and my legal team is working to uncover the truth."

Another reporter chimed in. "Do you believe this is a targeted attack? If so, by whom?"

Ishika's lips curved into a faint smile, her tone sharp as she replied, "I won't name anyone without concrete evidence. However, it's no secret that success breeds jealousy. Some people simply cannot handle competition."

━━༻❁༺━━

Across the city, Yash sat in his office, his eyes fixed on the live broadcast of Ishika's press conference. Dhruv lounged on the couch nearby, a bowl of popcorn in hand.

"Wow, she's good" Dhruv remarked, popping a kernel into his mouth. "Confident, poised, and throwing subtle shade. A true masterclass."

Yash didn't respond, his jaw tightening as Ishika's words echoed in his mind.

"'Success breeds jealousy,' huh?" Dhruv teased, glancing at Yash. "She's calling you out without even mentioning your name."

Yash finally spoke, his voice low and cold. "Let her have her moment. It won't change the outcome."

Dhruv smirked. "You keep saying that, but she's winning hearts right now. And you? You're sitting here fuming. Admit it-she's got you cornered."

Yash shot him a withering glare. "She's only delaying the inevitable."

"But hey, she's good! Uff bomb comeback hai uska!" Dhruv exclaimed.

"Tu mera dost hai ya uska?" Yash asked, irritated, making a face.

"Tera hi dost hu bhai! Chal ab muh thik kar aur aage ka soch." Dhruv said.

He went towers Yash, wrapping a hand around his shoulders as he winked and said,

"Waise bhi mai tum dono ko ship krta hu! Meri ship zarur sail hogi!"

Yash looked at him and punched him on the stomach while saying,

"Shut up Dhruv!"

━━༻❁༺━━

Back at the Press Conference

As the conference drew to a close, one final reporter asked, "Ms. Sehgal, do you have any message for those who doubt your integrity?"

Ishika's gaze sharpened, and she leaned slightly forward, her voice cutting through the room like a blade. "Doubt me all you want. But never underestimate me. I'm not here to prove myself to anyone. I'm here to win."

The room erupted in applause as Ishika stepped away from the podium, her confidence radiating like a shield. Tara rushed to her side, grinning.

"You were brilliant!" Tara exclaimed.

Ishika allowed herself a small smile. "Let's see how long this brilliance lasts in Singhania's eyes."

━━༻❁༺━━

EVENING

Ishika walked into her lavish apartment, the echo of her heels bouncing off the pristine marble floors. The door shut behind her with a soft click, but the sound seemed deafening in the oppressive silence of her home. She leaned against the door for a moment, closing her eyes as the mask of the strong, unyielding businesswoman began to crack.

Her breaths came out in shallow gasps as the weight of the day pressed down on her chest. Ishika Sehgal, the fierce, confident woman who had held her ground against Yash Singhania and a room full of reporters, was gone. Left in her place was just Ishika-the girl who had been fighting battles she never signed up for since she was a child.

She kicked off her heels, her movements jerky and frantic, and made her way to her bedroom. The moment she entered, the dam burst. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks as she let out a guttural sob, her hands clutching her head as if trying to hold herself together.

She collapsed onto the floor by the bed, her knees drawing up to her chest. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the photo frame on her bedside table-a picture of her mother, a woman whose face she could barely remember but whose absence haunted her every moment.

Ishika clutched the frame to her chest, her sobs echoing in the empty room. "Why did you leave me, Ma?" she whispered, her voice breaking with each word. "I never even got to know you... I never got to feel what it's like to be loved by a mother."

Her tears fell onto the glass of the photo frame, blurring the image of the smiling woman. Ishika's fingers traced the outline of her mother's face, her heart aching with a longing that had never faded, no matter how many years had passed.

"And you, Dad" she spat bitterly, her tears now mixed with anger. "You were here, but you were never here. You were always too busy-too busy chasing power, chasing money, chasing things that didn't matter. And then you left me, too. You left me to deal with the mess you created."

Her voice grew louder, the anger overtaking her sorrow. "Do you know what it's like to be your daughter? To walk into a room and see people whispering, judging me because of your sins? To have someone like Yash Singhania-Yash Singhania-question my honesty? Do you have any idea how that feels?"

She threw the frame across the room in a sudden fit of rage. It hit the wall with a loud crash, the sound reverberating through the silence. The glass shattered, shards scattering across the floor like the pieces of her broken heart.

Ishika buried her face in her hands, her shoulders trembling as fresh sobs wracked her body. She thought of the press conference, of Yash's sharp words cutting through her like knives. She had held her ground, refusing to let him see the cracks in her armor, but now, in the solitude of her room, she couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Why can't I just have a moment of peace?" she cried, her voice muffled against her hands. "Why do I always have to fight for everything? Why does it always have to hurt so much?"

Her mind replayed Yash's accusations, his cold eyes and sarcastic smirk. She could still hear his voice, laced with disbelief, questioning her integrity as if her father's sins were her own. It wasn't fair. She had worked so hard to build her own name, to prove herself, but it was never enough. The shadow of her father's corruption followed her everywhere, tainting everything she touched.

Ishika wiped her tears with the back of her hand, though they continued to fall. She stared at the broken photo frame on the floor, her mother's face now hidden beneath shards of glass. A bitter laugh escaped her lips.

"I guess this is my life, huh?" she muttered to herself, her voice hollow. "Fighting battles that aren't mine. Paying for mistakes I didn't make. Always being alone."

She leaned back against the bed, her head tilting up to stare at the ceiling. The tears kept flowing, but her sobs grew quieter, the storm inside her settling into a cold, empty ache. She felt exhausted-not just physically, but emotionally, spiritually, in every possible way.

For a moment, she allowed herself to feel it all: the grief of losing her mother, the bitterness toward her father, the pain of being judged for something she didn't do. She allowed herself to be Ishika-the broken, lonely girl who just wanted someone to hold her and tell her it was going to be okay.

But then, as always, the walls began to go back up. Ishika wiped her face again, this time with more determination. She couldn't afford to stay like this. She couldn't afford to let the world see her weakness.

She would pick up the pieces, as she always did. She would face Yash Singhania again, and this time, she would make sure he regretted ever doubting her.

But deep down, a small, fragile part of her wished-just for a moment-that someone would see her for who she really was. That someone would care enough to stand by her side, to tell her she wasn't alone.

As she sat there, staring at the broken shards of her past, Ishika vowed to herself that she would never let anyone make her feel this way again.

Meanwhile

Yash parked his sleek black car in front of Ishika Sehgal's sprawling mansion. The evening sky was painted with hues of orange and purple, the perfect backdrop to the grandeur of the estate. He stepped out of the car with his usual air of confidence, his tailored suit immaculate, his trademark smirk firmly in place.

The security guards exchanged wary glances but made no move to stop him. They knew who he was-the Yash Singhania. No one dared question his presence, even here, in his rival's territory.

As he walked up the steps to the grand entrance, his mind replayed the press conference from earlier. Ishika's fiery retorts had only fueled his desire to see her break, to remind her who was on top. He wanted to mock her, taunt her, remind her that no matter how hard she tried, she would never best him.

The door wasn't locked-it never was in places like this. He pushed it open with ease and stepped inside, his polished shoes clicking against the marble floor. The house was eerily quiet, almost as if it were holding its breath.

"Where is she hiding?" he muttered under his breath, his smirk widening.

He moved through the house with purpose, the soft lighting casting long shadows along the walls. When he reached her room, he stopped. The door was slightly ajar, and he could hear muffled sounds coming from inside.

Curious, Yash pushed the door open a fraction more and froze.

There she was, Ishika Sehgal-the woman who always seemed so composed, so untouchable-crumpled on the floor, clutching a shattered photo frame to her chest. Her sobs were raw and unguarded, the sound slicing through the air like a knife.

Yash's smirk vanished.

He stood rooted to the spot, his usual confidence and swagger replaced by something unfamiliar, something he couldn't quite place. He should've felt victorious, seeing her like this. This was what he wanted, wasn't it? To see her break? To prove that she wasn't as strong as she pretended to be?

But as he watched her, tears streaming down her face, her body trembling with the weight of her grief, he felt no satisfaction. Only an uncomfortable tightness in his chest.

She clutched a photo frame-her mother, he realized-and muttered words he couldn't fully hear, but the pain in her voice was unmistakable. She spoke of loss, of betrayal, of a life that had been anything but easy.

"This has to be an act," Yash told himself, though the words felt hollow. "She's playing the victim, trying to gain sympathy. She's..."

But even as he tried to convince himself, he couldn't look away.

Ishika was alone, completely unguarded in her pain. This wasn't the fierce, determined woman who had stood toe-to-toe with him earlier. This was someone who had been hurt too many times, someone carrying the weight of a past she had no control over.

For a fleeting moment, Yash felt an urge to step inside, to say something-anything-to acknowledge what he was seeing. But what could he say? What should he say?

His jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. He wasn't supposed to feel this way. He wasn't supposed to care. She was his rival, his competitor, nothing more.

And yet...

Yash turned abruptly, his footsteps silent as he walked away. He left the door slightly ajar, just as he'd found it.

As he descended the stairs, he told himself he was doing the right thing. There was no point in staying. Ishika Sehgal was none of his concern. Her tears, her brokenness-they didn't matter.

But as he stepped outside into the cool evening air, the image of her on the floor, shattered in every sense of the word, refused to leave his mind.

He got into his car and gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white. He sat there for a moment, staring straight ahead, his mind a whirlwind of emotions he didn't want to name.

Yash Singhania was a man who always had control. But for the first time in a long time, he felt like he was losing it.

Without another word, he started the car and drove away, the sound of Ishika's sobs still echoing in his ears.

YASH'S HOUSE,

SINGHANIA MANSION

That night, after the brief and unsettling encounter at Ishika's mansion, Yash found himself back at his sleek, minimalist apartment. The city lights outside flickered in the distance, casting long shadows against the floor-to-ceiling windows. His usual routine would have been to throw himself into work or maybe call a few associates, but tonight, everything felt off.

He kicked off his shoes with a slight frustration, his mind still replaying the image of Ishika, fragile and broken on the floor. The way her fingers had clutched that shattered photo frame, her sobs echoing in the otherwise silent room... It was a scene he hadn't expected, nor one he wanted to dwell on.

Sighing, Yash walked over to the sleek bar cart, pouring himself a drink to numb the swirling confusion in his head. He didn't need to feel sympathy for her. She was his rival, a competitor in every way that mattered. The press conferences, the meetings, their constant back-and-forth in the business world-it was all part of the game.

He took a long sip of the whiskey, feeling the burn in the back of his throat, but it didn't do much to calm the unease stirring inside him.

"She's playing you" he muttered to himself, his fingers curling around the glass. "She's good at the game, just like you are. She knows how to manipulate the situation. She's not fragile, Yash. Not in the way you saw her today."

His mind flashed back to the way her eyes had been, vulnerable and raw, yet somehow still filled with that fire he had come to know all too well. It wasn't the same fire he had seen when she had stood tall against him in the business world-it was something else. Something human. Something real.

Yash ran a hand through his hair, his thoughts scattered like a jigsaw puzzle with missing pieces.

Why do I care?

He had been the one to dismiss everything-her tears, her pain, her brokenness-as just another game. A strategy. Another move in the never-ending war between them. But as he sat on the edge of his couch, staring at the glass in his hand, he realized the truth.

He had watched her for too long to not see the cracks. He had dismissed her, labeled her as the enemy, the competition. Yet, the image of her sitting there, so vulnerable, so unguarded, lingered in his mind. It didn't fit the narrative he had created for her. And that frustrated him.

She's a rival. Nothing more.

He repeated the thought like a mantra, willing himself to believe it.

He had built his entire empire on control. On always knowing where he stood and never letting emotions get the better of him. And now, one brief moment had shaken him. No. He wouldn't let that happen again. He couldn't afford to let it happen again.

Yash stood abruptly, pacing the length of his apartment. He could almost hear her voice again in his head-her defiant words, the way her lips had curved in that bitter smile during their business meetings. That was who Ishika Sehgal was. A fighter. A ruthless competitor.

He couldn't-wouldn't-allow himself to get tangled in her web of emotions. He wasn't weak. He wasn't some charity case who'd run to comfort her when she showed her vulnerability. No.

With a deep breath, Yash set the glass down on the table, his eyes cold and distant.

"I'm not that guy. Not for her. She's just another rival. She'll always be that," he muttered, as if the words could seal his resolve.

He stared at his reflection in the glass window, watching the shadows of the city stretch out before him. He had to keep his distance. He had to remember who he was and what he had built. I'm Yash Singhania. I don't let anyone get close.

But even as he said that, his mind whispered something else-a nagging doubt, an unsettled feeling he couldn't quite shake.

In the end, he ignored it.

Yash turned away from the window and walked into his bedroom. As he collapsed onto the bed, he closed his eyes, trying to push all the conflicting thoughts out of his mind. Tomorrow, he would forget everything. Tomorrow, Ishika would just be another competitor, another business rival. Nothing more.

And with that final thought, he drifted into a restless sleep, the image of her tears still haunting the edges of his consciousness.