19| the investor

Early update because we completed 8k reads!!

AUTHOR'S POV:

"Is everything okay?" Mirha just settled on the seat opposite Farhaan. He told her to come to visit him as he wanted to talk about something "important". "We'll talk over the food. Order something," he said.

"You seem nervous Mr. Baig, never thought I would see this day," Mirha joked. They didn't order much, just their respective coffee as none of them was in the mood to eat anything.

"I wanted to talk about Shayan," Farhaan took a deep breath. "Shayan?" Mirha's eyebrows thinned. "Mirha, I never wanted to interfere in your best friend's life. But, you guys need to know this," Farhaan said.

"What do you mean?" Mirha was confused.

"Do you know he's involved in the underworld?" He questioned. "I'm in no mood to joke, Farhaan," Mirha chuckled. "I'm not joking, Mirha," he said. "You guys are unaware of his acts. He's gaslighting you," he added.

"Farhaan, if you are putting these assumptions on Shayan's character because of Zeeshan, drop it," she snapped. "Mirha—" she didn't let him say.

"Farhaan, we have been living with him for years and he had never mentioned or done such a thing," she said.

"Stop defending him when he's not worth it," he couldn't stand someone defending his rival who once played with his sister's feelings.

"Farhaan, you are accusing character assumption," Mirha said. "Seriously, character assumption? Mirha, listen I want you to know about his acts—filthy acts," he said.

"Farhaan, you think you and your brother will come up with a plan, and Waniya and I will believe you," she stood up.

"It was nice being friends with you. But I can't stand people who attempt to ruin someone's character just because of their benefit," she said as she left the cafe.

She did leave the cafe for her good but something in heart ached. Something, that she wanted to believe Farhaan but she couldn't. How could she?

"Fuck," it rolled off his tongue.

"What happened?" Zeeshan said the moment he dialed his phone. "It was fucked up," Farhaan was devastated about how their conversation turned out to be.

He simply wanted to unveil Shayan's true intentions and tell about his doings but before he could do that it all went in vain.

He wants Mirha to know the truth so she can inform Waniya but looks like the heavens were not on their side this time.

~

WANIYA'S POV:

"I told you yesterday too. We don't want investors," I didn't make eye contact with Sana. "But, ma'am the investor himself wants to meet you and it will be a great opportunity for our brand," at this point, I was done with the investor—I hadn't met him yet.

Since the morning, the investor and his assistant have called us at least 5-10 times just because they want to invest in our brand. I didn't bother asking the name because I care less.

"Okay, arrange my meeting with the investor and the board members," I said. She nodded and left. Mirha was with Ezzah at home, Mirha picked her up from school and took her home.

My vision traveled to my hand, the cut was still new. Two days back at night; Zeeshan sneaked into my room, it took me years back. Seeing him in my room was the same as those years.

I kept on reminding myself why I left him but my heart seemed to betray me every time I was with him. I wanted to forget what happened years ago. I wanted to give him— stop, stop, Waniya. I shook myself out of manipulative thoughts.

I overlooked some designs and files. "Ma'am they are here," Amir entered my office. I gave him a questioning look. Okay, I guess they were just punctual.

Amir shrugged and went out. I stood up and made my way toward the meeting room. Sana joined me and I entered the room.

I froze in place, my heart racing at the realization. Was it really him? The possibility felt surreal, like a figment of my imagination. "Can you confirm the name of the investor?" I leaned closer to Sana, my voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the illusion.

"Zeeshan Baig," she replied, her tone steady. A heavy sigh escaped my lips; I should have put the pieces together earlier. The signs had been there, lingering just at the edges of my consciousness.

I began to position myself, preparing for whatever might come next.

"Zeeshan Baig," he extended his hand. "Waniya Bagga," I took his hand in a handshake. Is he smiling a lot or is it just me? Ugh.

"I'm really sorry to inform you Mr. Baig, but we don't want any investors at this point," my point was clear.

"Ma'am—," I gave Sana the look. "But I want to invest," Zeeshan—stubborn.

"I am sure Mr. Baig you'll find plenty—more profitable—brands," I said. He bent towards me. "But I need to fulfill my promise, trésor. For that I need to invest in your company," he whispered. He remembered. He did.

The low sound of a cough erupted from one of the board members, cutting through the tense atmosphere of the meeting and serving as a reminder of their presence.

The man, whose name I couldn't quite recall at the moment, leaned forward in his chair, fixing his gaze on me with an intensity that made me squirm.

"Ms. Bagga," he said earnestly, his voice carrying an air of conviction, "we genuinely believe that allowing Mr. Baig to take on this project will yield significant profits for both you and him." His words hung in the air like an uninvited guest, and I felt the urge to voice my concerns bubble up within me.

I opened my mouth to protest, but the weight of the board's expectations seemed to stifle my voice.

"Ms. Bagga, you are just about to launch your new collection, the investment will play a good role," I wanted to turn down the offer but I knew how profitable it would get for my brand.

"Think about it Ms. Bagga," Zeeshan winked. Did he really just wink? I turned my gaze away "Okay, I think we can go with the investment," I said. I had no alternative option.

"How much are you willing to invest, and what are your expectations in terms of return?" I inquired, keeping my tone steady despite the seriousness of the conversation.

He paused, considering his response carefully, then declared, "thirty million dollars, along with a 5% stake in the brand."

The enormity of his offer made me momentarily choke on my words. Before I could gather my thoughts, his assistant opened his mouth to interject, but he silenced him with a firm gesture, raising his palm to signal that he wasn't finished.

The atmosphere in the room shifted, thick with anticipation as we both processed the implications of what had just been proposed.

"Is it less? Make it fiffty million dollars," he stated casually as if the figure held no weight for him. His demeanor was remarkably relaxed, contrasting sharply with the tension in the room.

One of the board members, furrowing his brow, interjected. "Mr. Baig, don't you think that's excessive for just a 5% stake in the company?" His concern was valid; the sum did seem astronomical for such a small percentage of ownership.

Seated at the long conference table, I felt the eyes of my colleagues turn toward me when Zeeshan continued.

"I don't believe the owner would object to that figure, do you, Miss Bagga?" Caught off guard, I instinctively shook my head in response.

The dynamics of the meeting were shifting, and I could sense the urgency behind his proposal.

"I completed my promise, trésor," the very next instant, he stood up. "Sana, text my assistant all the details," and he moved out. "Ma'am?" Sana called me. "Send him the details. I'll meet you tomorrow," I rushed after him.

He was nowhere to be seen. I exited the building to stop him. "Zeeshan," I called him as he was about to sit in the car. He moved towards me.

"Tumhara dimag kharab hai, tum pagal ho?" I yelled at him. "Han," was that easy to make me feel something weird in my belly. No, no, no, it's what I think it is. (Are you okay?) (No.)

No, no.

"Trésor, I did nothing but fulfill my promise," he moved out of sight.

ZEESHAN'S POV:

As we made our way back from her office, I couldn't help but admire how beautiful she looked. Her presence was captivating, and I found my gaze unintentionally drifting to my hand — the very hand that had just shaken hers.

I wondered if I was sounding whipped, but honestly I didn't mind. There was something special about that handshake. I decided then and there that I wouldn't wash my hands; it felt like a small, precious keepsake of our encounter.

After all, Waniya had touched it. The weight of that moment lingered with me, leaving a warmth in my chest.

Obaid and the board members had criticized me for my decision to invest a significant sum of money into her brand, especially considering that it only granted me a mere 5% ownership stake.

They questioned my judgment and labeled my move as foolish, viewing the minimal ownership in comparison to the substantial financial commitment I made.

However, the truth is that the ownership percentage was merely a formality—it was never my primary motivation for the investment.

My true intention was to support her vision and help her brand grow. After careful consideration, I've decided to transfer the ownership back to her.

Additionally, today marked my final day at the school. It was challenging—really challenging—primarily due to Ezzah. I had gotten used to seeing her every day; she was my daily source of happiness. Whether or not she's my daughter, the bond we share is incredibly special to me and very dear to my heart.

She hasn't been in school for the past two days—I wonder why, I should have asked Waniya—and I often find myself missing her presence.

Farhaan called to let me know that our plan didn't work out. I really hope Mirha keeps quiet about her conversation with him. I could sense his disappointment, especially since I knew he had feelings for her. I'll make sure to sort things out for them.

As the vehicle smoothly came to a stop, we realized that we had finally arrived back home.

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Zaar.