Kiara's hands shook as she booked the earliest flight to Paris. Every second felt like a countdown—Aarav's dream was under attack, and she couldn't let Rohan win. Her mind replayed his chilling words:
"When Aarav falls, you'll need someone to pick up the pieces."
The airport was chaos, but Kiara moved like a storm, sunglasses hiding her tear-streaked face. As she boarded, her phone buzzed with another headline:
"Aarav Mehta Under Investigation for Data Breach."
Her heart sank. This wasn't just sabotage—it was career-ending.
Meanwhile, in Paris, Aarav stood in the glass-walled conference room, surrounded by stern faces.
"Mr. Mehta, confidential propulsion data was leaked from your system. Until we resolve this, your project is suspended."
The words hit like a meteor. Aarav tried to speak, but pride and fury tangled in his throat. Who would do this? And why now?
Hours later, Kiara landed in Paris, exhaustion clawing at her, but determination burning brighter. She dialled Aarav—no answer. She tried again. Nothing. Panic surged. Was he shutting her out? Or drowning in the storm alone?
As she raced to his hotel, another envelope slid under her door at the airport lounge—someone had followed her across continents. The note read:
"You can't save him. The stars belong to me now."
Kiara gripped the paper, her fear morphing into fire.
"Not if I burn your lies first."
She whispered to herself as the city lights of Paris blurred past the taxi window.
Tomorrow, she would face Aarav. And Rohan. And whoever else thought they could write the ending to her love story.