Third Person's POV

The room was chaos.

Journalists were shouting over each other, cameras flashed like a lightning storm, and a dozen mics lined the podium—ready to devour her on the very first word that dropped from Aakriti's lips.

"Scam! Are the charity fraud allegations true?" Said one.

"Is Aakriti Nanda stepping down?" Followed another.

"Where is the official statement from Nanda Industries?" Aakriti hadn't even entered yet, and already the room was boiling with accusations.

Reporters huddled in packs. Mics were shoved in every direction. Tweets were going out every second with hashtags like #CharityScam, #NandaPharma'sFall, and even one outrageous #JailedQueen.

Then the doors opened.

And the world... paused. She walked in alone. No lawyers. No PR team. No apology note that everyone waited for.

Just Aakriti Nanda. Walked in like a lioness. Not to hunt but rather to toy with her prey.

Wearing sharp white formal attire, looking serene, radiant, and lethal. Hair left open to add a playful look. She didn't flinch at the chaos.

She didn't blink when a reporter shouted, "Miss Nanda, how does it feel to be caught?"

Instead, she walked—slow, unfazed—toward the podium, heels echoing like gavel strikes in a courtroom. She picked up the mic, adjusted it herself, and let the silence stretch. Gave a look that was enough to scare everyone's soul.

Then... one word.

"Enough." And the room obeyed. Dead silence. She scanned the crowd, each eye caught and dismissed like she was sorting through irrelevant emails.

Then, cool as a whisper, "I see we're all eager for a story today." Her voice wasn't loud. It didn't need to be. Every word was measured. Dipped in elegance, laced with steel.

"Before you run your next breaking headline, let me clarify something for those who forgot who I am," she said, raising one brow.

"I am Aakriti Nanda. CEO. Strategist. Not someone who begs for public sympathy or hides behind silence. And definitely someone with the ability to earn that amount within a year's time. So before questioning me, I think you should question your intelligence." She clicked a remote, and the giant screen behind her flickered to life.

Bank statements. Timestamped donations. Financial breakdowns. Audit trails. Receipts. Receipts. Receipts.

"These are the real numbers. Unlike what you've all been spinning," she said, turning slowly toward the crowd.

"Check your facts before checking your views."

A man from a well-known media house tried to interrupt, flustered, "But ma'am, what about the whistleblower report......" She raised her hand, not even turning to face him.

"Sit." He sat.

"This is the donation that Nanda Pharma added, which is more than the amount of the charity fund. And before anyone questions about it being fake. Here's the list of all the patients who received treatment. Go ahead and verify it." Everyone was left speechless and disappointed. They didn't get the joy of seeing her misery for which they came today.

"Since we all are here. How about me telling you all about the new revolutionary drug that Nanda Pharma was planning to launch in a few days?" Aakriti said with a smirk.

The screen started showing all the information about the drug. Gasps rippled through the crowd as the screen changed. Chemical breakdown. Clinical trial success rates. Testimonials from patients. Future projections. The reporters had expected a juicy press conference.

"This," Aakriti continued, her voice calm, "is the drug Nanda Pharma has been working on for years. Designed to treat a rare neurological disorder—one that has no proper treatment available in India yet."

Everyone looked at her, not daring to say anything.

"Why haven't you heard of it before?" She tilted her head.

"Because I don't believe in marketing half-cooked promises. I believe in results." Answering their unasked question

Photos were taken, but this time they weren't searching for dirt. They were documenting history.

"This medicine has passed every regulatory phase, has been tested in three countries, and has already saved 12 patients. By next quarter, it will be accessible to every hospital."

"Oh, look at my forgetful memory." she said, her voice light, almost amused. She looked around the room, her eyes dancing with mischief now.

"The drug will be available at one-tenth of the price at which it is available abroad." She said and gave a bright smile as if provoking people to find faults. Gasps. Stunned whispers. The reporters weren't sure whether to clap or crumble. Cameras zoomed in closer. Fingers hesitated over tweet buttons. She'd just taken the scandal they'd hoped would break her—and turned it into a national headline for innovation, ethics, and unstoppable female leadership. Before anyone could respond, she gave one final nod, her smile sharp as a blade.

"That will be all. You may now run along and find your headlines."

As she turned to leave, a voice called out, "Miss Nanda, one last question: did you worry that the scandal would affect your reputation or your relationship with your husband?" She paused at the door. Then she looked over her shoulder, her gaze a cold fire.

"My reputation doesn't depend on what people say when I walk into the room." She paused.

"It depends on how fast they keep quiet in order to not offend me."

"And my relation with my husband depends on the amount of love he has for me and nothing else." And with that, she walked out. Head held high. Fire in her wake. Chaos behind her. The queen had spoken. Allowing no one to deny.

Ananya's POV

I watched the press conference unfold on the TV in my penthouse living room, the wine glass in my hand trembling as Aakriti Nanda, that self-righteous goddess in white, turned chaos into worship. They had come for her blood. They wanted to see her shattered. And she... turned it into a victory parade. My nails dug into my palm, glass cracking under pressure. I didn't even notice the blood trickling down my fingers.

"That bitch..." She stood there, untouched. Unapologetic. Radiant. And worshipped. The situation wasn't how it was supposed to go.

"She was supposed to beg, to cry, and to burn. Not smile and glow." I said, and as each second passed. My eyes burned in anger.

"Ahhh..." I screamed with rage. The maid cleaning the shelf froze and trembled. Idiot.

"GET OUT!" I shrieked.

"NOW!" She fled like her life depended on it. Smart. Or else she would have been the victim of my anger. I got up and moved towards the TV screen.

You want to play queen, Aakriti? Fine.

But even queens can bleed. I said, tracing her face on the screen. I will break you to the point beyond repair. I will force you to leave him.

My Dhruv. He is mine.

"And my relation with my husband depends on the amount of love he has for me and nothing else." I froze as her words registered in my brain. Did she really say that? Her words echoed like a knife carving into my skull. Making me groan in pain as I felt a headache.

Her husband.

Her love.

Dhruv... His name wasn't spoken once in that conference, and yet in the final moment, she reminded the world who he belonged to... And it wasn't me...

"She really thinks... He loves her," I muttered, voice cracking.

"She really believes she's the reason he smiles. That she's enough to keep him." I turned, grabbed the nearest vase, and hurled it across the room. It shattered against the marble wall with a satisfying, violent crash. My breathing was fast now. How long had I waited in the shadows? How long had I watched Dhruv, loving him more than anyone ever could? How many times had I listened to his voice when he didn't even know I was near, memorizing every breath, every sigh...? And she thinks her love is enough to keep him?

Never. Neverrrrrr....

I picked up the metal showpiece and smashed it on the TV. I repeated this action multiple times, but my anger persisted. I banged on the TV as if it were Aakriti herself.

Suddenly, an idea popped into my mind. I started laughing hysterically.

"You really think a new miracle drug can save you?" I said with a smirk.

"Let's see how long you shine. I will drag you through dirt that can't be wiped with a few spreadsheets. Something capable of haunting every woman, including you, Miss Perfect."

My eyes landed on the wall, where a wedding photo of Aakriti and Dhruv was displayed.

My Dhruv. My perfect Dhruv. Fake. His smile is fake, only for show.

He doesn't love her. He just married her because he was forced. She doesn't deserve him. I grabbed a dart and scratched across her face. Completely ruined.

"Let's see what happens when I whisper the right lie to the right ear. I will ruin you, Miss Nanda." I said and aimed the dart at the board. Hitting in the center. I opened the drawer. Took the file. The one even I had hesitated to touch.

Photos. Documents. Voice clip. Edits.

Secrets that didn't need to be true. They just needed to be there.

I ran my hand over a photo of Aakriti and a foreign business associate taken too close, at just the right angle.

Innocent, maybe. But perception is everything.

"Let's see how devoted Dhruv will be towards you, my darling queen. Let's see what he thinks when the world tells him his wife is not just scandalous... but unfaithful." I whispered, holding the picture to the light.

"Aakriti had won today. She stole back the narrative. She humiliated the media, spun her scandal into gold, and stood tall like some untouchable goddess. But I would drag her back to the dirt. Where she belonged. I'll ruin her," I said aloud, chest heaving.

"I'll ruin her name, her company, her peace—and her marriage."

"She thought she was untouchable. But even queens fall. And when I'm done, Dhruv will have no choice but to look away from her. To see her as the world will see her, a lying, manipulative, characterless woman hiding behind money and media.

And then...maybe then, he'll finally see me."

"You think you won, Aakriti?" I hissed, venom dripping from every word.

"You just lit the match. I wouldn't have done this, but you forced me."

I reached for my phone and dialed the first contact on my list.

"Get me everything. Now. I want a new scandal. One that will destroy her forever. But this time with proper planning. Help me with more evidence."

"The war had begun. And this time, I wasn't after headlines. I was after her. I am not just going to take my Dhruv away from you, but I will make him hate you. And he will be disgusted with just the thought of being with you. 

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