Thousands of Miles Away – United States...
In the heart of Manhattan, atop the shining Arya Industries International building...
World-class economists, military contractors, and pharmaceutical giants had gathered for the Roy Global Strategy Summit.
At the center of it all, seated in a graceful black dress suit, was Arya Roy.
CEO. Visionary. Heiress.
And promised bride of Vikram Das.
She had buried that title long ago. But the embers had never truly died.
At the height of the discussion, with a hundred suits watching her for a decision on a billion-dollar acquisition, her phone buzzed once.
The name on the screen froze her completely.
[CALL: VIKRAM DAS]
Her heart slammed against her ribs. Her breath caught.
Everyone else waited.
But Arya slowly stood.
"I need a minute."
She stepped to the side, walking toward the floor-to-ceiling glass window as she accepted the call.
"I want to meet you," came the voice—rougher, deeper than she remembered.
