Chapter 11
Shauna stormed into Akash’s office, fury driving every step.
She didn’t wait for Reema to announce her.
Reema, who was Akash’s assistant now. Seeing her was a sharp reminder of Reema’s veiled conversation with Akash from two weeks earlier.
One more person who had known about Sehgal Media’s future.
One more person, besides her, who hadn’t been kept in the dark.
Akash looked up, surprise flickering across his face as he rose from his chair.
“How dare you?” Shauna said softly, stopping him before he could speak. “How dare you reject my resignation? And how dare you summon me as if I’d simply fall in line? As if I owed you my presence?”
Akash came around his desk, studying her quietly. As usual, his intense gaze coasted over her, making her skin tighten. She hated that he could still elicit this response from her.
She held her ground, watching him, waiting for him to speak.
But he didn’t. He simply stood there, one hip resting lightly against his desk, observing her in silence.
So, she studied him instead. The navy-blue suit sat on him effortlessly, crisp against the white of his shirt.
His hair was swept back carelessly, as if he hadn’t given it much thought, and yet the effect was unmistakable.
He looked powerful. Authoritative. In control.
It was as though he’d stepped into his role with utter ease, authority radiating off him in a way that made her chest tighten all over again.
“Hello, Shauna,” he finally said, her name lingering just a fraction too long, sending a traitorous tingle down her spine. “I’m glad to see you’re back in town.”
She’d been away from work for a week, refusing to return until she’d sorted everything out in her own head. In that time, everything had changed. For both of them.
For a week, she had gone silent. Withdrawn.
She’d refused to talk to her family, dodging their calls and ignoring their texts.
After her meeting with her grandfather, she’d flown straight to Delhi to their farmhouse.
Rhea had joined her there with her son. Her twin and Nirvaan were the only ones who hadn’t known, the only ones who hadn’t betrayed her.
Later, she’d learned that Jiya hadn’t known either.
That much, at least, hadn’t been another betrayal.
Everyone else had tried to talk to her. Her father.
Her brothers. Even Kabier and Keya. She’d shut them all out.
She didn’t want to hear their explanations.
She didn’t want to hear about the promises they had made to Akash, about why they couldn’t tell her, about how it had never been a choice.
She didn’t want to hear how, in the end, they had all chosen him over her.
She’d even watched her grandfather’s announcement on the news, watched Akash ascend to the throne of Sehgal Media.
Her heart still hadn’t recovered from the hurt of seeing it.
She needed space. Time to think. To decide what was right for her before her family crowded her with their advice. But the decision had felt inevitable. She would have preferred to stay longer in Delhi, that was until she’d received his response to her email.
“Are you going to say something, or would you rather keep staring at me?” he asked.
She smoothened her expression.
“You know why I’m here,” she said. “You asked me to meet you.”
“You sent me your resignation via email,” Akash said, his voice steady. “I wanted to meet you because we need to talk. This isn’t a decision you make over an email, Shauna. We owe each other a face-to-face conversation about something that affects both our lives.”
She let out a short, incredulous laugh.
“Owe each other? Affects both our lives? As if,” she scoffed, the sound bitter. “You should be relieved, Akash. I’m giving you exactly what you want.” She spread her hands. “All this without me in it. So why are you making this difficult?”
His eyes narrowed. “Are you a mind reader now?”
“Of course not.” She frowned. “Considering our history, I naturally assumed—”
“You assumed,” he cut in. “Again. You assume you know what I’m thinking, what I want. So let me make this clear, once and for all. You don’t know me. You never have. And if the recent past has proved anything, it’s that you’ve judged me through the lens of your own biases, not the truth.”
The words hit her harder than she expected.
She had been cruel, had judged him harshly, and had been proven wrong.
They had always fought with carefully aimed barbs, a familiar game they had played for years.
But now, with bitter certainty, she realized he had once and for all gained the upper hand.
“Sehgal Media is not a game to me,” he said, as if reading her mind.
“Not something to be used against you or to gain an upper hand over you.” His voice steadied.
“This business is my legacy. It was entrusted to me by two men I deeply respect. One of them was my late grandfather, and the other is yours. I cannot even tell you the amount of love and respect I have for Janak. And so, I will live up to my legacy, no matter what.”
He studied her. “I know my inheriting all this shattered the future you once imagined for yourself. And I’m sorry you’re hurt. Truly.” His gaze didn’t waver. “But I won’t allow whatever war exists between us to touch this company. And so, I’m offering you another truce.”
She rolled her eyes. “A truce? Again?”
He tipped his head to the side. “History shows we work well together when we have a truce.”
A flutter began in her chest. She knew exactly what happened the second she lowered her guard around him. She ended up making mistakes, ones she never wanted to repeat with him.
“Will you hear me out, please?” he asked. The softness in his tone shifted something inside her.
“Fine. Tell me what you’re thinking,” she said, feeling deflated.
His words had stripped the fight from her.
And while she hated him for taking what she believed was hers, she had to admit he wasn’t to blame for being the heir to all of this, for destiny choosing him.
If she went further back and truly analyzed everything, perhaps she would have seen the signs earlier.
She had taken pride in rising to the role of creative director.
Meanwhile, he had been given no official title at all.
Yet he had been everywhere, working quietly behind the scenes, involved in every aspect of the business.
Even while interning at other firms, she knew he had continued working with Sehgal Media in the background.
“Sehgal Media needs you, Shauna,” Akash said. “And I know that despite what you feel for me, you feel even more for all this. So I’d like you to stay, to keep your role and position here and to continue the brilliant work you have done here.”
The word brilliant caught her off guard. She hadn’t expected that, not from him. It unsettled her more than any argument could have. For a moment, she simply stared at him.
“Staying means working under you,” she said finally. “Working for you. I’m not sure I can do that.”
“Why?” he asked. “Can you not put your ego aside and see that you and I could do great things together?”
“No.”
“Why not?” He moved closer, his voice lowering. “You’ve been gone for a week. Tell me honestly, didn’t it feel like something vital was missing? Didn’t you miss the work? Your team? The joy of doing what you love?”
The truth hit her with brutal clarity. A week away from Sehgal Media, knowing she probably would never return, had felt like losing a limb, like being cut off from something essential.
It had hollowed her out, left her restless and empty in ways she hadn’t known how to name.
She had missed the chaos, the creation, the quiet thrill of building something that mattered.
She looked away, swallowing hard and hating that he saw her so clearly.
“That’s not the point,” she said, even as she knew it was exactly the point.
“Then what is?” he asked, his voice hard. “For years, all I’ve heard is how much you love Sehgal Media. How important it is to you. And now, just because things didn’t go according to your plan, you’re ready to ditch it?”
She flinched, but he didn’t let up.
“The company is the same, Shauna,” he continued. “The people. The work. The vision. None of that has changed.”
He took another step closer. “Nothing needs to change. What if I promise I won’t interfere in your work, as long as the numbers hold? You’ll have complete autonomy. Make your decisions, run your teams, shape the work without me stepping in.” He paused. “If I give you all that, will you stay?”
He lifted a hand and gently tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. She gasped softly, suddenly aware of just how close he was. Of his scent filling her senses. Of how completely he had invaded her space.
His eyes darkened, as if he too realized it. Then his gaze dropped to her lips, lingering there long enough to make her breath hitch. His face hovered just inches from hers now, his breath warm against her skin. A shiver ran through her.
“I need you,” he said quietly. “I can’t do this without you. Stay. Help me make Sehgal Media the best media company in the world.”
Her hands clenched at her sides, her fingers curling as she fought the instinct to reach for him.
Her pulse thundered. She tilted her face toward his without meaning to, drawn in by the gravity between them and the way his eyes flicked to her lips again and lingered.
For a breathless second, the world narrowed to that fragile space between them.
He stood so close that she thought he would kiss her, and that she wouldn’t be able to stop him if he did.
Then, just as suddenly, he stepped back, opened the door, and walked out.
The silence he left behind was deafening.
She drew in a sharp breath, her lungs burning, her body still humming with the echo of him.
Confusion tangled with longing, anger, and something far more dangerous.
She pressed a hand to her chest, willing her pulse to slow, hating how shaken she felt and hating the part of her that was quietly disappointed the kiss hadn’t happened.
She squared her shoulders, trying to anchor herself, but the decision she faced refused to loosen its grip.
Could she give him what he wanted? Could she really work beside him, under him, knowing that, in the end, she would always be just another employee in a company she had once dreamed of owning?