In the world of boardrooms and billion-dollar deals, power is a performance. Meher Khan runs Khan Corp. with precision and pride — until Zayn Hashmi, her rival in business and ego, walks in late and unapologetic. Forced into a partnership neither wants, their history simmers beneath every word. The deal may be signed, but the real battle is just beginning.
~~~~
The clock on the far wall struck 2:00 PM with an audible click. Inside the sleek, glass-walled meeting room of Khan Corp., tension hummed like a taut wire. Meher sat at the head of the long oak table, her back straight, her fingers tapping a measured rhythm with the end of her silver pen. A gesture that was deceptively calm — those who knew her recognized it as a warning sign.
Beside her, Zoya shifted nervously from foot to foot. She clutched the tablet in her hands a little too tightly, her eyes darting to the closed door, then back to Meher.
"Call his secretary again," Meher said, her voice as cool as the AC humming in the ceiling. "What is taking him so long?"
"I've already called multiple times, Ma'am," Zoya replied, hesitant. "No answer yet."
Meher didn't respond. She only turned slightly in her chair, her gaze fixed on the glass door as if she could will it to open.
As if on cue, the handle turned with a slow click, and the door creaked open.
Faqair stepped in first, crisp in his dark suit, his expression unreadable. With a respectful bow of his head, he held the door wide.
"Mr. Zayn Hashmi," he announced, his voice carrying through the silent room like a sharp note of a cello.
The atmosphere shifted.
Zayn entered — deliberate and unhurried. His blazer was a perfect fit, tailored within a millimeter of precision.
His left hand was tucked casually into the pocket of his pants, his right swinging lightly at his side. He didn't smile. He didn't need to.
The room reacted instantly. Chairs scraped softly against the floor as the executives around the table rose to their feet, almost involuntarily. A silent show of respect — or fear. Possibly both.
Zayn's gaze moved slowly across the faces in the room, unreadable, until it landed on Meher.
She didn't rise.
She didn't blink.
They stared at each other — Meher seated in perfect stillness, Zayn standing like a storm held back by glass.
"Good afternoon, everyone," he said, his voice low, smooth, and composed.
It wasn't a greeting. It was a statement — of arrival, of power, of presence.
The silence stretched a moment longer than was comfortable.
Then, finally, Meher spoke. Not with words. Just a faint, barely-there smirk that flickered at the edge of her lips.
The war had begun.The air was thick — not with heat, but with something far sharper. The kind of tension that made people hold their breath without realizing it.
Zayn had barely taken three steps into the room when Meher leaned back in her chair, a smile curling on her lips. Not warm. Not welcoming. A blade disguised as charm.
"Well, well," she said, tilting her head slightly. "Look who's here. The Zayn Hashmi."
There was a pause — brief, but heavy. Faqair, still standing by the door, cleared his throat quickly, hoping to soften the blow.
"Sorry, we were stuck in traffic."
Meher's smile vanished as swiftly as it had appeared.
"My whole team was waiting to start the meeting," she said, her tone sharp. "Don't you think you should apologize for that?"
Zayn stopped mid-step, his grin slow and disarming. "Apologize?" He raised an eyebrow, casually slipping his hand from his pocket. "For once, I'll apologize… to the employees. But not to you."
A murmur rippled through the room, but no one dared speak.
Meher leaned forward, her voice laced with mockery. "Oh, really? Was it my right to wait for you? Am I Juliet now, waiting for Romeo?"
Zayn chuckled, unfazed. "Miss, I wasn't dancing in the middle of the highway."
That did it.
The room erupted — not in laughter, not in words — just a wave of sudden motion and tension. Executives glanced at each other uneasily, shifting in their chairs. Zoya raised her hand in panic. "Ma'am, sir — please, let's just—""Let's not do this here," Faqair added quickly, stepping in.
But it was too late. Meher and Zayn were locked in a verbal duel, ignoring the rising discomfort around them. Words flew sharp and fast — some cold, some cutting, others just loud.
Then the door opened again.
Asad Khan, the Chairman himself, stepped into the room. His entrance was quiet, but its impact was immediate. Zoya and Faqair fell silent. Even the restless shifting among the executives stopped. Every eye turned to him.
Everyone except Meher and Zayn.
They continued, as if unaware.
Asad cleared his throat — once.
That alone was enough.
"Meher," he said, evenly, "nice work. Just a reminder… this is your workplace."
The weight of his voice settled over the room like a sudden drop in temperature.
A beat passed. Then another.
Meher's eyes didn't leave Zayn's, but her expression cooled even more.
"You think you can handle this better?" she asked Asad, her voice soft but icy.
No one moved.
And for the first time that afternoon, Zayn's smirk faded — not out of defeat, but curiosity.
The meeting hadn't even begun.
And already, the lines were drawn.The silence that followed Meher's icy words hung like a storm cloud above the boardroom table.
Asad didn't flinch. He stood tall, his hands clasped loosely in front of him, eyes sharp with authority.
"Of course," he said, his voice was calm yet pointed. "But this isn't the time to dwell on that. For now, I think you should take charge—since you're taking over my company."
Meher's chin lifted slightly. "Then stay out of my way."
Before the tension could settle, Zayn let out a short, amused laugh, cutting through the air like a blade.
"I used to think she only had a problem with me," he said, glancing around the room. "Turns out it's just… her personality."
Meher shot him a glare, but her voice was honey-laced with venom.
"Talking about personality?" She gave him a look of pure disdain. "Coming from someone who thinks money is everything? Someone with no heart?"
Zayn's expression didn't falter. If anything, the smile returned.
"I don't need a character certificate—especially not from you."
Meher opened her mouth to strike back, but Asad's voice cut clean through the rising heat.
"That's enough." He didn't raise his voice, but his tone left no room for argument.
Meher fell silent, jaw tight.
Zayn leaned subtly toward Faqair, his voice low and unreadable.
"Judging by their faces… there's more going on here. We need this partnership to work—no matter what."
Faqair gave a discreet nod. "Yes, sir."
At the head of the table, Asad turned his attention back to the room."Alright," he said, straightening his shoulders. "Let's begin. Everyone, please take a seat."
Chairs scraped softly against the floor as everyone obeyed. The documents were passed out. Laptops opened. Projections lit up the wall.
The meeting was in full swing.
But amidst the numbers, forecasts, and strategic plans—two people weren't fully present.
Meher's eyes flicked toward Zayn every few minutes, cool and unblinking. Zayn, in turn, barely hid his sideways glances, the occasional smirk tugging at his mouth.
They weren't speaking anymore—but the war hadn't ended. It had simply gone quiet.
---
A Few Hours Later…
The sound of applause broke out across the room as the final agreement was signed.
Hands clapped. Smiles were exchanged. The partnership between Khan Corp. and Hashmi Enterprises was now official—on paper, at least.
Zayn shook hands with Asad, their expressions polite, businesslike.
Then, he turned.
He walked across the room to where Meher stood, arms crossed, lips pressed into a hard line.
He extended a hand, just a fraction too confidently.
"Happy cooperation, Miss Meher," he said smoothly.
She didn't shake it.
Instead, her eyes met his with cold precision. "What's so happy about it?"
Zayn smiled to himself, letting his hand drop slowly back to his side. His voice dropped to a near whisper.
"Nothing really... because I'm going to make this a nightmare for you and your family."
Meher didn't flinch.
But her silence said everything.
To be continued.....
The deal was sealed, but no victory was claimed. Behind every exchanged glance lay unspoken challenges and fragile alliances. Meher and Zayn had agreed to walk the same path — for now. But in a world ruled by power and pride, the future remained uncertain, and every step could change the game.
°÷° [Realising date 15/08/2025]
"Every story holds a little magic, a little struggle, and a lot of heart. Thank you for sharing this journey with me—may you find strength in every challenge and light in every shadow. Take care of yourself, and remember, your story is just as important as theirs."
Yours,
Galaxy's Eyes