Song: Galliyan- "Ek Villain"

The city never slept. Neither did Ruhaan Randhawa.

The rain lashed against the vast glass walls of Randhawa Enterprises, casting distorted reflections of the city lights across the polished marble floor. From his corner office, perched high above the restless streets, Ruhaan could see it all—the endless pulse of Mumbai, glittering yet unforgiving, much like himself.

Behind the minimalism of the room, there was control in every detail. The sleek, monochrome furniture. The absence of personal photos. A space where nothing unnecessary lingered—just like the man who owned it.

But tonight, something different sat on his mahogany desk. A cream-colored file embossed with the words Raina Technologies in gold.

His sharp eyes scanned the documents for the third time that evening.

Ishika Raina.

The name felt familiar, yet elusive. Not because she lacked success—she was making headlines for all the right reasons lately—but because of the subtlety in how she had risen. No scandals. No reckless PR stunts. Just numbers that kept climbing.

The proposal was bold.

A strategic partnership between Raina Technologies and Randhawa Enterprises. Shared resources. Mutual growth. High-risk, high-reward. It was the kind of offer only a person either very confident or very reckless would dare send his way.

Ruhaan hated reckless.

He leaned back in his chair, his sharp jaw tightening as he closed the folder. She was asking for a business alliance, yet this felt personal. Her calculated precision intrigued him—but trust was a luxury Ruhaan had long outgrown.

The room was silent except for the rain. Outside, the city bowed before him. Inside, he remained unmoved.

"You’ve made your move, Ms. Raina.
Now, let’s see if you can handle mine."

_______________________________

Raina Technologies – Ishika’s Office

Across the city, another empire stood tall. Raina Technologies—a beacon of modern success with its glass architecture reflecting every drop of rain, each panel spotless under the city’s neon glow.

Ishika Raina stood by the window, arms crossed loosely as she watched the storm unfold. The rain reminded her of herself—calm on the surface, yet fierce in its persistence.

Her gaze shifted downward to the city below, then to the reflection staring back at her—a composed figure dressed in a soft ivory blazer paired with minimal jewelry. Effortlessly elegant.

But inside?

There was tension.

The proposal had been sent hours ago. A masterpiece she had crafted herself—weeks of research, countless revisions, every risk calculated. She hadn't inherited this company for it to be controlled by anyone, not even him.

Ruhaan Randhawa.

A name both respected and feared in the corporate world. Ruthless. Tactical. Unforgiving.

She exhaled slowly, pressing her fingers against the cool glass. Her office was warm and vibrant, with hints of personal touches—a vase of white lilies, a framed photo of her late father. He had built this company from the ground up, and now it was hers to protect.

The sound of the door clicking open broke her thoughts.

"Aarav," she greeted, her cousin and closest confidant stepping in. Dressed in a navy suit, slightly less formal than hers, he carried his signature calmness.

He held up his phone. "I checked. No response yet."

Ishika offered a tight smile. "He’s probably dissecting every clause right now. Ruhaan Randhawa doesn’t rush decisions."

Aarav crossed his arms, leaning against the desk. "You’re sure this is the right move, Ishi? Of all the people in this city, you chose him. The man who—"

"I know what he is," Ishika interrupted, her voice steady but firm. "I know his reputation. But I also know mine. He needs this collaboration as much as we do. And if he thinks he can intimidate me into changing my terms, he’s in for a surprise."

Aarav raised an eyebrow. "You’re playing with fire."

Ishika’s lips curled into a small smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach her eyes. "No, Aarav. I am the fire."

______________________________

Randhawa Mansion – Midnight

The storm hadn’t let up.

Ruhaan stood by the massive floor-to-ceiling windows of his private study, a glass of whiskey untouched on the side table. The mansion was a fortress of modern architecture, yet it felt empty, just as it always had.

The proposal still lingered in his mind. Unsolicited. Yet flawlessly crafted.

But there was something else. Something about the way her name had been signed at the bottom—bold, fluid, confident. No unnecessary flourishes.

It reminded him of someone who knew exactly what they wanted.

And Ruhaan hated being second-guessed.

The sound of his phone buzzing interrupted his thoughts. Meera’s voice came through the speaker.

"Sir, shall I send the contract for review or decline it entirely?"

Ruhaan's gaze drifted back to the rain. Declining the offer would be easy—expected, even.

But easy wasn’t how he built his empire.

"Not yet," he replied, voice calm but commanding. "Send my RSVP for the gala she’s hosting. Let’s see how bold Ms. Raina truly is—face to face."

The Storm Was Just Beginning.