The glass doors of Rathore Industries gleamed under the morning sun, a reflection of power and perfection — much like its CEO, Poornima Rathore. Her heels clicked sharply against the marble floor as she strode into her office, each step echoing the authority she commanded.

Poornima was a name people in the corporate world respected — and feared. Intelligent, ambitious, unapologetically bold. She had built her empire with precision and confidence that left no room for weakness. Her sharp mind could read contracts like emotions, and her presence in a boardroom silenced even the loudest men.

But beneath all that steel and control was a heart that had once been foolishly soft — for one man.

Pavan Rajawat.

Her first crush. Her school love. The boy with the charming smile and calm eyes, who had always treated her kindly. Poornima had loved him since she was fifteen. The kind of love that never faded, only buried itself deeper under ambition and pride.

But to get his attention back then, she had made mistakes — cruel ones.

Her friends — Neha and Priyanka — had been the popular girls of Raj International School. And when they noticed that Pavan often spent time helping a shy, awkward boy with messy hair and sad eyes — Veeresh Rajawat — jealousy had bloomed like poison.

They mocked him. Pushed him. Spread rumors.

And Poornima… she had joined in.

At first, it was to fit in. Then, it became habit. She told herself it didn’t matter — that he was nobody, that his mother’s reputation made him untouchable. But every time she saw Veeresh’s silent anger, the way his jaw tightened as he endured humiliation, something uneasy twisted inside her.

Still, she said nothing.

Still, she laughed.

Still, she hurt him.

Years passed. Life moved fast. She became the CEO her father always dreamed of. Pavan moved abroad for business, and Veeresh… vanished. Until today.

Today wasn’t just any day.

It was Pavan Rajawat’s engagement day.

And the bride-to-be?

Her younger sister — Sahana Rathore.

Poornima stared at the mirror, adjusting her diamond earrings as the reality of it settled in. Pavan — the man she had loved in silence for years — was about to become her sister’s fiancé.

The irony tasted bitter.

Her mother’s voice called from outside the room, “Poornima, hurry up, the Rajawats are already here.”

She exhaled, smoothing her royal blue saree, her expression composed and unreadable. “Coming,” she replied, her voice even, betraying none of the storm inside.

The engagement venue was nothing short of royal — crystal chandeliers, white lilies, and silk drapes that swayed gently in the air-conditioned breeze. The Rathores and Rajawats, two business dynasties, coming together in what was called the merger of power and prestige.

Poornima’s eyes instinctively searched for Pavan among the guests. And when she finally saw him — dressed in an elegant cream sherwani, his smile radiant — her heart did that familiar, painful flutter.

But her attention was soon stolen by another presence — one that sent a chill through her veins.

Standing near the entrance, in a sharp black suit, was Veeresh Rajawat.

For a second, Poornima thought her mind was playing tricks. The boy she remembered had been thin, awkward, broken. But the man standing there now was nothing like that. Veeresh radiated calm authority, danger, and confidence. His eyes — sharp, unreadable — met hers across the hall.

Her breath caught.

And for the first time in years, Poornima Rathore felt small.

Veeresh’s lips curved in the faintest smirk as he walked past her, his gaze cold but deliberate. A silent reminder of every word, every insult, every humiliation she had once thrown his way.

Her best friends, Neha and Priyanka, whispered from beside her.

“Isn’t that… Veeresh Rajawat? The illegitimate one?” Priyanka muttered.

Neha scoffed. “He looks… different.”

Poornima didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears as she watched him walk toward her father and Pavan — confidently, without hesitation — and shake hands as if he belonged there.

The whispers began instantly. Veeresh Rajawat, the billionaire businessman behind V Business. The same boy they’d once ridiculed. The same boy now commanding respect in the same circles that once spat on his name.

And when his eyes met hers again, there was no warmth — only a quiet fire, a message unspoken.

> “You wanted to be noticed, Poornima. Now, I notice you.”

For the first time in her life, the woman who feared nothing… felt regret.