Fiza arrived at NeuraTech's towering building, the cold glass doors looming before her like the threshold to an entirely new world. The adrenaline that had kept her moving through the city now settled into a quiet anticipation. She had spent months preparing for this moment—studying, refining her skills, and cultivating a persona that would fit seamlessly within the tech industry. But today was different. Today, she was not just another employee; she was playing a role. A very dangerous one.
As she stepped into the building, she passed through sleek, modern spaces that were filled with the hum of innovation and technology. The sleek walls, the clean lines, the crisp air—it was all meant to convey power and progress. But to Fiza, it felt like a prison, a place that held the answers she needed to exact her revenge.
Inside, she was greeted by the receptionist, a young woman with a friendly smile who introduced herself as Lara. Fiza offered a polite nod and smiled back, maintaining the calm, controlled demeanor she had perfected over the years. Lara handed her a temporary ID badge and gestured toward the elevator.
"You're going to love it here," Lara said. "NeuraTech is all about innovation. I'm sure you'll fit right in."
Fiza gave her a soft, appreciative smile. "I hope so."
As the elevator doors closed, Fiza leaned against the back wall, trying to steady the fluttering in her chest. *Ibrahim Siddiqui's world.* She had never imagined herself in this position—standing on the edge of everything she had once despised. Yet, here she was. The building's soft hum was a stark contrast to the noise in her mind.
The elevator reached the top floor, and the doors slid open to reveal a spacious, open-plan office. Workers were absorbed in their tasks, typing away at sleek, modern computers or discussing ideas in small groups. The atmosphere was alive with energy and focused intensity.
Fiza made her way to her assigned desk, where she was introduced to her new coworkers. As she shook hands with a few of the women, she couldn't help but notice how every person here seemed to have a sense of pride, a connection to the company that was palpable.
But no one knew what she was truly there for. To them, Fiza Alvi was just another bright young talent entering a prestigious tech firm. To her, every conversation was a reminder of how deeply she was lying—of how much was at stake.
The day passed in a blur of introductions, meetings, and adjusting to her new role. But Fiza's thoughts never strayed far from her mission. She couldn't afford to get distracted, not when the pieces of her plan were falling into place.
Late in the afternoon, as she sat in the break room sipping her coffee, a familiar face entered. Ibrahim Siddiqui.
Fiza's heart skipped a beat as she looked up. She had known he worked here, but seeing him in person was different. Ibrahim walked in with an easy confidence that caught the attention of everyone around him. His dark hair was perfectly styled, his sharp jawline adding to the strong, silent appeal. But it was his eyes—deep, intense, and stormy—that drew her in, even from a distance.
He was taller than she expected, his broad shoulders filling the doorway. Dressed in a tailored charcoal suit with a crisp white shirt and a deep blue tie that hinted at his calm yet commanding presence, he exuded authority and sophistication. The subtle glint of a luxury watch on his wrist added to his polished look, a testament to his success.
Ibrahim had worked relentlessly to build this company from the ground up, carving his path through sheer determination and brilliance. NeuraTech wasn't just a business to him; it was a vision he had fought to bring to life, far removed from the shadows of his family's influence. There was something almost magnetic about him, an undeniable charm that made it difficult for anyone to look away.
Fiza quickly turned her gaze back to her coffee, gripping the cup a little tighter as she tried to steady her racing heart. She couldn't let herself get distracted—not now, not ever.