chapter one
Authors pov
In a market as saturated and competitive as Pakistan's booming beauty industry, success wasn't handed to anyone; it was built.
Emira Ahsan had done just that. Within a few short years, her cosmetic brand rose from a modest local startup to an internationally recognized name. She was known for her sharp eye, Flawless campaigns, and a leadership style that left no room for error.
Everything about her office reflected that:
Minimal, efficient, elegant.
A knock on the door followed.
“Yes, come in,” She said, barely glancing up from the documents scattered on the desk.
Her PA walked in, her expression calm and focused.
“Assalam-o-Alaikum, ma’am. Good morning.” She handed her a file and today’s schedule.
“Wa Alaikum Assalam,” Emira replied, setting the papers aside. “How are you? And did you collect the information about expanding our business?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ve gone through the options. We already have warehouses in Germany and Italy, but the strongest potential lies in Korea. It’s one of the fastest-growing economies right now. If you want to take this brand global, Korea is our next step. Major international companies have already entered the market.”
Emira didn’t respond right away.
She hesitated, then added, “Also, ma’am... A successful expansion like this could uplift our company’s image, and even highlight Pakistan’s potential in the global business scene.”
Emira finally nodded, voice steady. “Alright. You can leave the file on the desk. I’ll go through it later.”
“Of course,” she said softly before exiting.
The moment the door clicked shut, silence returned, and with it, the noise in her head.
Korea.
The only country I had tried to avoid... yet it kept circling back. Why did it have to be that place?
She closed my eyes and inhaled slowly, as if that could quiet the chaos inside her.
Without another thought, she stood up and moved to the small prayer space in the corner of my office. If there was one place her mind found calm, it was in front of her Lord.
Jaehoon’s pov
The roar of the crowd surged through me like electricity. On stage, under the lights, surrounded by thousands of voices chanting my name, I felt untouchable. Seen. Loved. Out here, I mattered.
The concert ended, but I wasn’t ready to let go of the high. Then came Rahim, my best friend, and the only person who had stuck with me through every chaotic rise and fall. He smiled and clapped me on the back.
“Dinner?” he asked. I nodded—some habits didn’t die, and dinners at our hotel spot were one of them.
We took our usual table, the one tucked in the corner where no one would dare interrupt us. The waitress approached, notepad in hand.
“I’ll have a Coke,” Rahim said casually.
“Beer,” I muttered, barely glancing at the menu.
Rahim’s brow twitched. “You should skip that. Try something else.”
I looked up sharply. “You know I don’t like being told what to do.”
The silence said more than either of us could. The waitress scribbled and left.
As soon as she was out of sight, Rahim dove into what he always did...business gossip.
“Our shares are dropping. Investor trust is slipping. The stocks are unstable.”
Typical Rahim. Every time we met, he unloaded the world’s headlines onto my plate, while I played the silent listener with a calm face. The truth is, I’m not calm. Never have I been. But around the people I care about, I try to stay present. Steady.
He was mid-sentence when the interruption arrived—Sarah, his fiancée.
She slid in next to him with perfect timing, just as the drinks came. I took a long gulp of my beer, already feeling my blood pressure spike. This woman… always manages to take my dearest brother away from me. And then it begins—her usual chatter about friends, wedding plans, and things I couldn’t care less about.
Rahim, unfazed, sipped his drink and got back to the point. “We’ve lost nearly all reliable clients. Stocks are down after the false review allegations. A few companies even pulled out of their deals. The company’s staying afloat because your name still holds weight, but that won’t last.”
Sarah chimed in like she always did. “He’s right. If we don’t rebuild public trust fast, we’ll hit debt. We need a strategic business partner.”
Right. Because now she’s the business expert too. For the record, Rahim and I co-founded our company when we were 23. We’re 27 now. Sarah runs her brand, but she’s always got her nose in our plans—and somehow, Rahim lets her.
“I spoke to someone at the agency,” she continued, unlocking her tablet and handing it to Rahim. “They mentioned Emira Holdings. It’s run by a young entrepreneur. Her marketing strategies are brilliant, and her brand is the fastest-growing in the industry. She just opened a fourth warehouse in Germany and is planning expansion into Korea.”
I raised an eyebrow. That kind of growth wasn’t easy.
“She’s never had a scandal, her reviews are consistently five-star, and clients trust her. Her name alone carries credibility.”
Rahim scrolled, intrigued. He handed the tablet to me.
And that’s when I saw her.
𝙀𝙢𝙞𝙧𝙖.
For a moment, everything around me stilled. Her photo stared back at me, a poised woman, her smile subtle but disarming. A soft dimple curved near the corner of her mouth. Her eyes didn’t sparkle; they glowed like quiet fire. Something in her gaze made the air feel different. Like she was calm, but not soft. Like she could break you with kindness if she wanted to.There was a warmth to her face that made something flicker deep inside me. Unfamiliar. Unsettling
I felt something stir in my chest, something nameless. It wasn’t an attraction, not exactly. But it was something. Something I didn’t like. So I did what I do best.
I shrugged it off.
My finger hovered over her name, tracing the letters without thinking.
“Emira,” I said under my breath.
Sarah looked smug. “Exactly.”
I didn’t look at her. “Find a way to contact them. I want a deal.”
“They’re shifting headquarters right now, so I couldn’t reach anyone,” she replied, tapping at her phone. “But I’ll keep trying. We may hear back within the week.”
I nodded, rising to my feet. I grabbed the helmet in one hand, my beer glass dangling from the edges of my other.
“See you later. Bye.”
I stepped out of the restaurant, the city lights washing over me in a lazy glow.
I swung my helmet as I walked. I walked towards my matte-black bike parked just near the curb.
Stopping beside it, taking the last bitter sip before tossing the bottle intothe nearby trash bin without a glance.
“Hey baby,” I muttered, fingers brushing along the seat. “Let daddy get a taste of fresh air.”
I slipped the helmet on, inserted the key, and twisted it. Firing up the engine, the roar filled the silence. The throttle responded to my touch like lightning, and I shot forward, the city lights blurring past. The wind whipped through my hair, adrenaline kicking in.
Every twist and turn, every lean into the curve felt like freedom, pure, raw, and addictive. Riding wasn't just fun, it was the only thing that made the noise in my head quiet down for a while.
Author’s pov
Emira stepped through the acrylic doors of the office,her expression composed. Nadia,
Her assistant greeted her at the entrance with a soft smile.
“Assalam o alaikum, ma’am, Congratulations,” she said, handing over a bouquet.
“Wa alaikum assalam. Thank you, Nadia,” Emira replied with a small nod, then exchanged short greetings with the staff who handed her more flowers in celebration of the business’s Launch in Korea.
Once the welcome settled down, Emira turned to Nadia. “Come to the office. I need you.”
Inside the office, Emira placed the bouquets on the side table and gestured for Nadia to sit.
“What’s the schedule today?”
“Nothing for now, ma’am. No meetings or calls.”
“Alright then. Help me organize the product files,” Emira instructed.
They both moved to the seating area, sorting through a pile of files on makeup product formulations, promotional material drafts, and supplier proposals. Two hours passed, filled with quiet work and occasional discussion about product updates and supplier needs.
Once the files were sorted, Nadia carried them to the shelf while Emira settled behind her desk, checking emails.
“Any news or updates?” Emira asked, her eyes fixed on the documents.
“Nothing important right now. A few partners that relocated here are still settling up, so we’re looking at a quiet week. Best to focus on settling our new space.”
Emira gave a small nod, then paused.
“You mentioned something on the phone a few days ago…something about a partnership deal?”
Nadia stopped briefly, trying to recall. “Yes, ma’am. A woman called earlier last week. She said they’d heard about us moving to Korea and wanted to propose a deal. I told her we were still relocating and that we’d get back to her.”
“What company?” Emira asked, casually,
Without looking up.
Nadia hesitated, flipping through her notepad. “Um.. it was … Jeon Empires, I think?”
The room fell quiet.
Emira looked up, her expression unreadable, a flicker of something passing through her eyes. Nadia continued, unaware.
“I read a bit about them. The company was caught in some false allegations, but they won the case. Still, public trust hasn't fully recovered. However, because the owner is a well-known idol, the company is still running strong and has impressive engagement numbers, but in my opinion, it won't last. If they don't regain their client's trust, the company will crash and the owner of the company, Jeo–”
“We’re not making any deals with them.”
Emira said sharply.
Naida blinked, taken aback. “Ma’am, I understand, but rejecting a major name right after arriving here, especially one that offers visibility, might reflect poorly on our strategy or might cause dra-”
Emira closed the folder in front of her with a firm hand, standing up.
“I’ve made my decision. Tell them it's a no from our side.”
She didn’t wait for a response, leaving the room with a composed but firm stride. Nadia stood quietly for a moment, surprised by the reaction. Emira had never raised her voice before.
Emira didn’t reject the deal because of the strategy or pride. It was personal, buried too deep for anyone around her to understand. Jeon Empires wasn’t just another company; it was a name tied to years of silence, unsaid prayers, and emotions she had buried under layers of professionalism.
To the world, she looked composed, an entrepreneur making sharp, sudden decisions. But inside, a storm swirled. The mention of that name pulled her back into a memory she had
Worked hard to forget.
For now, no one would understand. Not Nadia. Not the team. Not even the man on the other side of the deal.
And Emira preferred it that way.
Emira’s pov
I stepped out of the office room, the quiet click of the door behind me echoing louder than it should. As I walked through the hallway, I saw people laughing, exchanging ideas,
Busy with their day, but I heard nothing. Just silence. I clenched my phone in my hand and made my way towards the kitchen.
I entered the kitchen, placing my phone on the counter. Bending down, I pulled the kettle from the cabinet and began preparing my coffee.
Half-lost in my thoughts, I picked up the sugar jar and scooped out a spoonful.
“You don't put sugar in your coffee.”
I blinked.
“Yes, I don't–” The words came out before I registered the voice. I turned quickly, almost startled.
Standing by the kitchen entrance, leaning casually against the wall, was Mysa.
I gasped. “Wait, when did you get here?”
“Last night,” she replied, stepping forward with a soft smile. “Landed in Seoul late. Didn't want to disturb you.”
I nodded, still processing the surprise. Her presence felt like a sudden breath of air. She walked towards me, casually taking the mug from my hands.
“By the way, why are you making coffee? Where's your PA?” I shrugged, not wanting to recall the disagreement that had happened a minute ago. But that didn't work. Mysa wasn't one of those people you could easily hide things from. It was as if she could read emotions just by looking into your eyes. I exhaled. “We received a deal offer…. From.. Jeon Empires.”
Mysa’s expression didn't shift much. She gave a small, understanding nod. As she checked on my coffee, I realized she was listening, so I continued. “He keeps showing up, his name, his world. It's like no matter how much I avoid it, it finds a way back.”
“Maybe it's not finding you. Maybe Allah is placing it in your path for a reason. Don't let stress make the decision. Let Allah handle what you can't.”
“I did,” I said, almost bitterly. “A long time ago, I handed this matter to Allah. I just… I just wanted him to be mine. Or at least be a Muslim. Is that too much? I've waited for so many years.”
Mysa placed the mug gently on the counter and looked at me with calm sincerity.
“And maybe this is Him answering you now. Trust Him, Emira. He doesn't disappoint. Just don't carry the weight alone.”
I let out a frustrating sigh, so Mysa gently changed the topic. “Did you pray zuhr?”
I lowered my gaze. “Not yet… I will.”
“No,” she said gently but firmly. “Go now. Share with Allah whatever’s weighing on you.
I’ll send your coffee to your room.”
“I will go naa, don't force me,” I muttered, avoiding her eyes. Mysa gave me a sympathetic look, then turned back to the kettle.
