Chapter : 1

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Ananya Sharma's life was a meticulously ordered sequence of responsibilities and detached interactions. As the CEO of Sharma Enterprises, a conglomerate built by her father, she carried the weight of her family's expectations and disappointments on her shoulders every single day.

The morning had begun like any other. Ananya woke up in her spacious, modern quarter and went through the motions of her morning routine with practiced efficiency. Dressed impeccably in a tailored suit, she descended the staircase of her luxurious home with a mask of indifference firmly in place. However, the sight that greeted her in the dining area pierced through that facade.

Her mother, Mrs. Naina Sharma, was tenderly placing a plate of steaming parathas in front of Ananya's younger brother, Rohan. The scene, filled with warmth and affection that Ananya herself had yearned for but never received, caused a fleeting expression of longing to flicker in her eyes. Swiftly regaining her composure, she turned to leave, but her father's voice halted her.

"Ananya," Mr. Vikram Sharma's stern voice called out from behind the morning newspaper he was engrossed in. "I trust you're handling the Prakash Industries merger project with utmost care. Don't let us down."

Ananya nodded stiffly, her jaw set in a familiar resolve. "It shall be done, sir," she replied coolly, her words echoing with the weight of unspoken bitterness.

With a heavy heart, Ananya left her family behind and drove to the office in her sleek black car—a testament to her own hard-earned success and independence within the family empire. She entered the bustling office building, her presence enough to command both respect and fear among the employees who hurriedly greeted her. Ignoring their greetings, Ananya made her way towards the elevator, her heels clicking rhythmically on the polished marble floor.

The building's lobby was a cavernous space, adorned with sleek modern furniture and abstract art pieces that echoed her company's cutting-edge reputation. She paused in front of the mirrored elevator doors, her reflection staring back at her—a poised and confident woman in a tailored navy suit, her hair pulled back into a sophisticated chignon.

With a soft ding, the elevator arrived, and the doors slid open smoothly. She stepped inside, the scent of freshly cleaned surfaces and a hint of her own floral perfume filling the small space. She pressed the button for the top floor, and the doors closed with a whisper. As the elevator ascended, Ananya mentally reviewed her schedule for the day. Meetings, reports, and a video conference with the overseas team. Her mind was a whirlwind of tasks, but she thrived on the constant activity.

The elevator came to a gentle stop, and the doors opened to reveal the top floor of the building. This floor was her sanctuary. Only her office and Mr. Dev's, her secretary, occupied this space. She preferred solitude during her working hours, finding it easier to concentrate and make decisions without the constant hum of the office below.

Mr. Dev's office was strategically located near the elevator, ensuring he was the first line of defense against any unwanted interruptions. His door was slightly ajar, and she could see him inside, already engrossed in his work. He glanced up briefly, offering her a respectful nod, which she returned with a slight smile.

She continued down the plush-carpeted hallway to her own office, a space designed to inspire both calm and creativity. The door, marked with her name in sleek, metallic lettering, swung open as she pushed it, revealing a spacious room bathed in natural light from the floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of the city skyline.

Ananya walked in, the familiar surroundings greeting her like an old friend. Her desk, a masterpiece of minimalist design, was already neatly arranged with her laptop, a few important files, and a framed photograph of herself. She set her bag down on the side table and moved to the window, taking a moment to savor the tranquility before the storm of the day began.

Seated behind her desk, Ananya immersed herself in the project that consumed her days and nights. Hours blurred together as she poured over reports, analyzed data, and made strategic decisions with surgical precision. The pain in her body from the stress and exhaustion was nothing compared to the ache in her heart—a constant reminder of the emotional void that haunted her existence. Her body was starving for some food the whole day.

As evening descended and the day's tasks finally came to a close, Ananya wearily pushed herself out of her chair and headed towards the exit. It was then that she encountered Mr. Dev, her trusted secratary with charm to impress any woman he came across except the devil he works for, muttering to himself in frustration about his broken-down car.

"Stuck again, Mr. Dev?" Ananya's voice cut through his grumbling as she approached her car.

Mr. Dev turned, his face lighting up at the sight of his boss. "Ms. Sharma! My car decided to betray me today. Now I'm stranded."

Ananya raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by his dramatics. "Get in," she stated flatly, unlocking the car.

Mr. Dev's face lit up with gratitude as he quickly settled into the passenger seat. "Thank you, Mam! I owe you one," he exclaimed, his enthusiasm barely contained.

Ananya started the car and began driving with her usual focused intensity, while Mr. Dev settled into the seat beside her, stealing glances out of the window with casual curiosity. Suddenly, he exclaimed, "Stop!"

Ananya slammed on the brakes, turning to Mr. Dev with a mixture of irritation and curiosity. "What now?" she demanded, her patience wearing thin.

Mr. Dev pointed outside excitedly. "There's a small restaurant there. Can we please stop? I'm starving," he pleaded, his eyes wide with a hint of mischief.

Ananya stared at him incredulously, her annoyance palpable. "You've got to be kidding me," she muttered under her breath.

Mr. Dev leaned closer, putting on his most persuasive expression. "Please, Ms. Sharma. Just a quick bite. I promise it won't take long," he cajoled, his charm in full display.

Ananya sighed heavily, feeling her resolve waver against his persistence. Finally, with a reluctant nod, she relented. "Fine. But make it quick."

Mr. Dev practically jumped out of the car with a grin of victory, following Ananya into the small, bustling restaurant. She sat down at a table, clearly unimpressed by the surroundings, while Mr. Dev beamed at her like an excited child.

Inside the quaint restaurant, the atmosphere was cozy and warm—a stark contrast to the cold demeanor of the CEO. She sat across from her secretary who was eagerly scanning the menu with a wide grin, as if he had just won a lottery. Ananya, on the other hand, sat with an air of impatience, her mind still lingering on the day’s exhausting tasks and the unresolved emotions from her morning encounter with her family.

"Mr. Dev, order quickly," Ananya spoke in a clipped tone, her eyes fixed on the menu but her mind elsewhere.

Mr. Dev looked up, sensing her irritation, and cleared his throat nervously. "Um, I think I'll have the paneer tikka masala and some naan," he replied, trying to sound casual despite her evident disinterest.

Ananya nodded tersely, signaling the waiter who promptly took their order and disappeared into the kitchen. Silence fell between them, broken only by the distant chatter of other patrons and the occasional clinking of cutlery. Mr. Dev, sensing the tense atmosphere, decided to venture into conversation.

"So, Ms. Sharma, any plans for the weekend?" he asked tentatively, hoping to lighten the mood.

Ananya glanced up, her expression unreadable. "No plans. Just work," she replied curtly, her eyes flitting back to her phone.

Undeterred, Mr. Dev pressed on, determined to breach her icy exterior. "You know, sometimes it's good to take a break. Recharge the batteries, they say," he remarked with a slight smile, trying to inject some cheerfulness into the conversation.

Ananya scoffed softly, her gaze flickering back to him. "I don't have the luxury of breaks, Mr. Dev. My family's company doesn't run on vacations and leisurely weekends," she retorted, her tone laced with bitterness.

Mr. Dev paused, sensing a vulnerability beneath her tough exterior. "But everyone needs a break now and then. Even CEOs," he remarked gently, reaching out to touch a nerve.

Ananya stiffened imperceptibly, her eyes narrowing slightly. "I'm not like everyone else," she replied coldly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Their food arrived, interrupting the conversation as the waiter placed the steaming dishes in front of them. Ananya's gaze softened momentarily as the aroma of the food wafted up, but she quickly regained her composure, picking at her food with little interest. Mr. Dev, however, dug into his meal with gusto, savoring each bite as if it were a delicacy.

"You should try some, Ms. Sharma. It's really good," he commented between mouthfuls, gesturing to his plate with enthusiasm.

Ananya glanced at his plate indifferently but made no move to try it herself. "I'm not hungry," she stated flatly, pushing her plate away slightly.

Mr. Dev paused mid-bite, his eyes searching her face. "Ms. Sharma, you can't keep working like this. You need to take care of yourself," he said earnestly, his concern evident.

Ananya looked at him sharply, a flicker of annoyance crossing her features. "I don't need life advice from my secretary, Mr. Dev," she replied icily, her tone final.

Mr. Dev sighed softly, realizing he had overstepped. "I'm sorry, Ms. Sharma. I just thought... never mind," he muttered, returning his attention to his meal.

Ananya looked at her plate with hesitation for a moment, then reluctantly took a small bite. She paused, the flavors surprising her with their familiarity and comfort. For a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to relax, her guard momentarily lowered in the presence of good food and unexpected company.

As they finished their meal and headed back to the car, Mr. Dev couldn't contain his gratitude. "Thank you, Ms. Sharma. That was really nice of you," he said sincerely, a genuine smile on his face.

Ananya nodded tersely, starting the car with a sense of renewed purpose. She drove in silence, Mr. Dev beside her lost in his thoughts. As they neared their destination, she glanced at him briefly, a rare flicker of acknowledgment in her eyes.

Dev nodded curtly, getting out of the car. "Don't expect this to become a habit, Mr. Dev," she warned sternly, staring at the steering wheel.

Mr. Dev chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Understood, Ms. Sharma," he replied with a grin. Dev walked out of the car with happiness, feeling victorious after making his cold boss eat food after an entire day of starving.

******

After dropping Mr. Dev at his place, Ananya drove through the night towards the Sharma Manor, a sprawling estate that stood as a silent witness to the family's complex dynamics and Ananya's solitary existence within it. The grandeur of the manor was lost on her as she entered through the imposing gates and parked her car in the designated spot. The night enveloped the estate in an eerie stillness, the darkness seemingly swallowing her as she made her way inside.

Inside the mansion, the silence was deafening.No welcoming lights, no voices of anticipation or concern greeted Ananya. It was as if the mansion itself acknowledged her presence with stoic indifference, much like her own family did.

No one waited for her.

No one ever did.

She walked through the dimly lit corridors, passing closed doors behind which her family slept peacefully, oblivious to her late return.

Ananya's room was at the far end of the corridor, deliberately isolated from the rest of the family's living quarters. It was a stark contrast to the opulent bedrooms of her parents and brother, reflecting her status within the family hierarchy—a CEO by title, but emotionally distant and excluded.

Inside her room, Ananya shed her formal attire, exchanging it for a comfortable set of pajamas. The weight of the day's responsibilities and emotional turmoil bore down on her, draining her of the last reserves of energy. She collapsed onto her bed, the softness a welcome contrast to the hardness of her workday.

Exhaustion washed over her like a tidal wave, and despite her mind racing with unresolved thoughts and unmet desires, sleep claimed her swiftly. The dreams that followed were fragmented and distant, echoing the fragmented pieces of her own heart. In the quiet solitude of her room, Ananya found a brief respite from the relentless demands of her life, a fleeting moment of peace before the cycle of duty and detachment began anew.

Outside her room, the Sharma Manor remained shrouded in silence, its occupants lost in the embrace of dreams and slumber, unaware of the lonely figure at its heart. Ananya Sharma, the CEO who commanded respect and fear in the boardroom, found herself adrift in the shadows of her own home, a prisoner of her own success and the weight of familial expectations.

As dawn approached, casting a faint glow through the windows of the manor, Ananya stirred from her restless sleep. Another day awaited her, filled with challenges to conquer and emotions to suppress. With a sigh, she pushed herself out of bed, steeling herself once again to face a world where she was both indispensable and invisible—a paradox she had grown accustomed to, but never truly accepted.

The Sharma Manor continued its silent vigil over its inhabitants, its walls holding secrets of ambition, resentment, and unspoken longing. And in the heart of it all, Ananya Sharma prepared to step into the day, a woman who had mastered the art of concealing her vulnerabilities behind a façade of cold indifference—a mask she wore not by choice, but by necessity.

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