The rain had returned to the city, washing the glass facades of the financial district in a dull, grey sheen. But inside the penthouse, the silence was far colder than the storm outside.
For two weeks, Aryan hadn't touched his corporate files. The Singhania Group's shares flickered on the news tickers, but its formidable CEO sat at the dining table—the same mahogany table where he had once rejected her meals—staring at a small, silver key.
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