Sitara's POV

"There you are," I murmured. "Now we can start the day."

I stepped out of my Rolls Royce Ghost and placed on the Ray-Ban sunglasses I was searching for in my coat.

I proudly stood in front of Estilo, my empire.

A smile stretched on my lips. It had become a routine to me, a habit, to look up at the building flashing, "Estilo" in golden italics, and smile at it.

It was odd behavior, really. But it was mine. The strange smiles and my business—the only thing that truly made me happy.

After closing the car door for me, Raj, my bodyguard, walked behind me. My office building was outside of the main city. A peaceful location dedicated only to my business area spread wide. My staff initially would complain about the location being inconvenient, but after spending time in the city crowd and here, they understood the importance of silence to work efficiently.

When two guards saw me approaching the building's front gate, they both bowed slightly.

Raj pressed the button for me at the elevator, and I quickly entered. I kept my gaze at my heels.

I remembered Dad's call earlier this morning; it was my parents' anniversary today. I had called to wish him. I wanted to wish my mother too. It was no longer possible though.

I missed my mother, especially when I needed her the most. My father had re-married with my stepmother, Sanjana, two years ago. He was happy with her. I was happy for him.

At least one of us found happiness again.

The ding of the elevator snapped me back. I left Raj behind and quickly exited the four walls' oppressive atmosphere.

I looked forward to going to work every day, and family would be the last thing on my mind. Today, however, I couldn't stop thinking about them.

I walked down a marble-floored corridor with dark brown wooden walls on both sides, a massive semicircular desk behind which a lady, the receptionist, stood.

"Good morning, Mam." She beamed a fresh and warming smile at me.

I took off my sunglasses. "Good morning." My voice sounded cold and distant. I needed an outlet for this harshness building inside me.

I sprinted towards my cabin, not waiting to see her face after such rude behavior of mine.

My company was divided into two halves. This floor housed our CFO, COO, chairman of the board, three fashion designer assistants, and a conference room.

Our other team, junior fashion designers, market research team, interns, a canteen, and another conference room on the 9th level.

I had renovated the workplace into something where employees would feel comfortable and confident to work with me. Glass windows provided a 360-degree view of the surrounding.

As I was about to enter my cabin, Tina, my secretary, walked up to me. I had made up my mind to lock myself in my cabin and vent out the aggression inside me, but I had to stop and acknowledge her presence. She was a tanned skin, small-eyed girl.

"Good morning, Ms. Roy," Tina greeted with her signature grin.

She was working with me for a long time now. Her dedication to the company was what I loved the most about her. And my staff.

"Morning, Tina," I said, entering my cabin.

It was a fully furnished room with the modern architecture of black and white.

Paintings I bought through charity events and auctions hung on the walls. A huge library of reference books and documents, and a floor-to-ceiling glass wall behind my desk.

"Coffee," I said as I put my coat on the coat rack. Sliding into my chair, I tossed my phone and glasses on the desk. Tina repeated my order in the canteen by the telephone placed on my black desk and straightened herself to inform me of my schedule for the day.

"Ms. Roy, three meetings are scheduled for today. One with—" I interrupted her.

"Tell me the updates on the new Classic Collection."

"Oh, yes. . . Today we will receive an official email from the Fashion Design Council of India. Some members of the council are interested in our company's new Classic Collection and are willing to make an appearance for our fashion show which is in one month." she said and turned the page of her notepad, ready with the pen to write my next commands.

I sat up straighter in my chair hearing that news. My stomach twisted with anticipation for the event that was still a month away. It was a great feeling.

Feeling anticipation for the biggest day of your life.

"That's great news," I said, calming the storm of excitement roaring through me. "Inform our design team and arrange a meeting with the Big Day Planners." She wrote my instructions on the paper.

We needed to speed up our remaining job now. The Fashion Council could break or make my name after this event. I needed them to be impressed and I could go to any level to achieve that.

I have been working on this project for a almost year. After hundreds of letters and requests to them, we had finally heard from the Fashion Council. I wasn't going to ruin this chance.

A knock on the door interrupted us. The canteen guy had brought my coffee. He came in and placed the mug in front of me.

"Are the models selected for the show?" I asked, taking a sip.

"Yes, mam. Although we need a male model to carry our important showstopper's outfit." Tina said, placing her hands on the chair.

I had completely forgotten about that. Shit!

I was saving this spot for someone who was made for this outfit, for the showstopper's position. But there was no time now.

"Okay. Get me the photographs and details of the best models in the country."

"Mam, Myra is actually searching for the models. She will report you soon."

Thank god someone has my back.

"Fine. You can leave." I said, giving a glance at the wall clock. It was 9:00 a.m. I was sure Myra must be going through a hell lot of photographs and long-ass professional histories to pick out 'the perfect 5' to show me.

After half an hour, there was a knock on the door. A girl peeped in a file in her hands. Big brown sparkling eyes, a red blazer over her white button-up shirt, and jeans with brown heels. Myra.

"May I come in, mam?" Myra asked, emphasizing the word 'mam' with her never-to-miss teasing tone.

"No. Fuck off." I blurted out.

I hated when she called me mam or acted formally. We've known each other since we were kids. She was like my sister. And yes, a sister who will do things that annoys the hell out of you.

"Stop annoying me, Tara," Myra said, inviting herself in.

So I'm the one annoying her?

No one can understand this girl. She pulled out the chair and made herself comfortable on it.

"Here." she placed the file in front of me. "I have selected the best 5 from 100s. It's so fucking hard to choose 'male' models, you know." she stated, air-quoting the word male.

"Whatever." I opened the file which had the photographs and shortened information about the model. Three photos of each model and I went through all of them while Myra taped her feet anxiously.

"What takes you so long? It's not rocket science. Just pick one who has. . ." she paused.

And I knew exactly what she was about to say—that shitty suggestion again and again.

". . . Good looks, Good looks, and Good looks." as expected. She said with her arms open and closed eyes. Such a drama queen.

"You done?" I asked, farrowing my brows. "We are selecting a model Myra, not my boyfriend."

"Fine." she rolled her eyes and banged her hands on the desk, trying to show off how offended she was.

I carefully looked through the photographs for the perfect one. It was a tough job. I've waited for so long to select my model. I couldn't just randomly pick one of them.

I was afraid I might ask Myra to search for more capable ones.

All the models she had chosen had the qualities I was looking for. But the one who caught my attention was different from the other four.

He was broad-chested and strong-shouldered. His dark brown eyes were piercing, almost challenging, and had a noticeable attitude.

"Who is he?" I asked out of curiosity. She stood up and bent a little forward to look at the photographs.

"Kabir Sinha. Currently the top male model in the fashion industry," she answered and sat back on the chair.

"Which agency?" I asked, my eyes glued to his face.

"The First Runners."

That's it.

"Ask Tina to contact them and arrange a meeting for tomorrow," I ordered, placing his photographs in my drawer. I wasn't supposed to keep any of them in my office, if found I could get in trouble for favoring a certain model out of personal preference.

But at this point in my career, I was allowed to have preferences about who walks on the ramp at my events.

"But Tara tomorrow? It's not possible—" she said, confused at my sudden decision to hire Kabir Sinha.

"I don't care, Myra. Tell them I'm going to meet them. Personally."

I wanted to sign the agreement with him as soon as possible. Top models came with an attitude, and as seen from the photographs, this man already has one. I didn't want to miss the opportunity of signing the best one for my show.

Tina arranged the meeting with The First Runners. They agreed in an instant upon hearing my name. The power I held.

The meeting was at 10:00 a.m. I gave a glance at my wristwatch, 9:45 a.m. I was in my car, on my way towards the company.

After 10 minutes, the car came to a stop in front of a closed gate. My driver showed the guard our identification and after a few seconds, the gate opened. The car then stopped at the entrance of a building.

Without waiting for someone to open the door for me, I stepped out and walked in. Raj and Tina close behind me.

I halted. On my left was the elevator and receptionist desk in front.

"Ask which floor Mrs. Sharma's cabin is there," I asked Tina.

"Yes mam," she replied and walked towards the receptionist.

She came back within a few seconds and said, "6th floor."

Within minutes, I was sitting in front of the CEO of The First Runners, Mrs. Sharma. A woman in her late 40s, with shoulder-length hair, a black skirt, and a top.

"So you want to sign an agreement with Mr. Kabir Sinha for your upcoming fashion event?" Mrs. Sharma asked, fixing her glasses.

"Yes," I replied.

"Well, we are so happy to know that. It will be an honor to work with Estilo." She said, plastering a kind smile. "I have informed Kabir about it. I have mailed him the agreement details. He will be here in a few minutes."

*Knock*

"Yes, come in." Mrs. Sharma ordered while I sat there waiting.

"Did you call me?" A deep voice asked. I felt someone walk in and stand behind me.

The air thickened around me. As if someone had engulfed me in something dark and sinister.

I turned, wanting to know whose aura was affecting me so much.

My breath caught in my throat. Kabir Sinha. Looking right at me with those dangerous eyes of his. He looked unreal in person, almost an illusion of beauty.

Kabir Sinha. I found myself whisper.