Power is a scent. And tonight, she wore it like perfume.
---
☕ 07:12 AM — Lin Conglomerate Boardroom, Top Floor
The morning after the gala was a battlefield of aftershocks.
Ashira sat alone at the head of the long obsidian conference table in the Lin Conglomerate tower, sipping black coffee like a queen on her throne. Her red nails drummed against a glass tablet displaying the company's current stock profile.
Her heels rested—intentionally—on the polished mahogany wood. Her entire posture said: I dare you to make me move.
And one by one, the board directors entered.
First came Mr. Ren—Director of Finance. Balding, pompous, and smirking.
Then Ms. Cao, who once tried to petition to remove "the disgraceful heiress" from the company's history.
Then the rest—wolves in cufflinks, all privately convinced Ashira was just the naïve placeholder heiress with a pretty face and zero business sense.
By 7:30 AM sharp, ten of them had filled the seats. Whispers rustled like dry leaves.
Where was Chairman Lin?
Where was Damien?
And more urgently… why was she here?
Ashira took a final sip of coffee.
Then she stood.
And the war began.
---
💼 The Audit Files
"I've taken the liberty," she said smoothly, "of calling this emergency meeting in Chairman Lin's absence. He's… indisposed this morning."
Technically not a lie. Her "father" was currently sedated with an artificial sedative she discreetly authorized through the estate physician.
Just long enough for her to move.
"Miss Lin, with all due respect—"
"Director Ren," she cut in, "I do not require your respect. Just your attention."
Her voice dropped half a pitch—still polite, still silk, but unmistakably laced with steel.
"I've spent the last week auditing internal documents and uncovered a pattern of embezzlement through our overseas holding company—Golden Trade Holdings. The transfers began three years ago. Just shy of ₹5 crore vanished."
Dead silence.
Ms. Cao blinked. "That's absurd. Those numbers don't—"
"I have the receipts," Ashira interrupted, swiping the screen. Behind her, the projector lit up: ledger logs, forged signatures, off-shore shell companies. Names. Dates. Transfers.
At the bottom?
Ren Y. — CFO
Gasps.
Mr. Ren's smug expression collapsed into pale disbelief. "This is… this is slander—!"
Ashira slowly walked to him, heels echoing in the dead room.
She placed a file down in front of him, calm as a storm just before lightning strikes.
"It's an exact match to the duplicate accounts in Singapore, tied to your son's startup. Unless you'd like this forwarded to the Anti-Corruption Bureau… I suggest you resign. Today."
"Y-you don't have the authority—"
"I do," she said, eyes blazing. "According to Clause 5.2 of emergency oversight protocol, I was granted interim authority when Chairman Lin fell ill last quarter. You all signed it. You just didn't think I'd ever use it."
She turned back to the room, voice cool and clear.
"Let me remind you: I am the legal heiress. And from today, I am no longer decoration."
By 8:00 AM, Ren was escorted out by security. The rest of the boardroom sat in frozen silence as Ashira outlined restructuring plans, cybersecurity reinforcement, and executive screening protocols.
They didn't dare object. She had the floor.
And the city felt the tremor within hours.
---
📱 Damien Sees the Fallout
Across the city, Damien Zhuang's phone buzzed as he adjusted his cufflinks.
"Sir, urgent headlines."
> 'Heiress Lin Stuns LinCorp With Surprise Takeover Audits—CFO Ousted'
'Cold CEO's Wife Turns Corporate Assassin?'
'Ashira Lin Steps Out Of Shadow — "No Longer Decoration," Says Source'
Damien froze mid-step.
He stared at her picture—one snapped during the meeting, red lips and blood-matching nails, fire in her eyes.
This wasn't the woman he'd agreed to marry.
This was someone far more dangerous.
And yet… he couldn't stop reading.
---
🍷 Later That Evening — Zhuang Private Residence
The penthouse was silent.
Until the door opened, and she walked in like she owned the city.
Ashira tossed her clutch onto the glass table, her heels clicking against the marble. She didn't acknowledge Damien immediately.
But he stood near the liquor cabinet, swirling whiskey.
"You made headlines," he said, voice unreadable.
"I like mornings with impact."
"You also bypassed company protocols."
"I used your protocols," she replied, pulling her hair free from its twist. "You once told your assistant during a call that 'intelligence is sexy'. I took notes."
He watched her, gaze sharp.
"You cornered a powerful man on live finance feeds."
"I cornered a thief," she said simply. "But I'm curious—are you angry because I took action? Or because I did it better than you?"
That stung. Just enough to show in his eyes.
---
💢 Romantic Tension: Lines Blurred
"You enjoy the game, don't you?" he murmured, stepping closer.
She looked up at him, head tilted.
"What game?"
"The one where you pretend this marriage is just a contract… but everything you do sets the world on fire."
He was too close.
She didn't step back.
"Is that jealousy I hear, Mr. Zhuang?"
His eyes darkened.
"No. That's a warning."
Ashira raised her brow.
"Why? Afraid someone else will play harder?"
---
🕴️ Enter: The Other Business Shark
Enter Kian Roy, mid-30s, international venture capitalist, heir to a tech dynasty.
He'd been at the gala last night. Watched Ashira destroy her enemies with poise.
Today? He sent her a handwritten letter—delivered in gold envelope.
> "Your mind is sharper than your heels—and I'd like to test both. Dinner tomorrow?" – KR
Ashira read it with a flick of amusement.
Across the room, Damien read the envelope upside-down.
His jaw ticked.
"Friend of yours?"
"Not yet," Ashira said with a small, wicked smile.
---
🧠 Flashback Insert: Ashira Remembers Her Past Life's Lowest Moment
Aynee—her old self—once stood outside Rivan's clinic in the rain, watching him smile at another woman through the glass. Her heart had cracked like porcelain then.
She had vowed: If I ever get another chance, I will never let love blind me again.
Back in the present, she whispered to her reflection:
"Power first. Love later. If ever."
---
📞 The New "Ashira" Starts Making Waves
In the next few days:
She's invited to a global female leaders' summit (thanks to viral media attention).
She receives 3 investment offers from rival companies.
Whispers begin spreading in elite circles: "Is Ashira Lin the true brain in the Zhuang marriage?"
Damien hears all of it.
And hates every second of it.
---
🧨 Final Scene: Damien's Jealousy Ignites
Late one night, he returns to the penthouse to find her laughing over wine with Kian Roy—on the rooftop.
Damien freezes at the threshold, the door left ajar.
He hears Kian's flirtatious tone: "You know, I haven't been this intrigued since I nearly lost a billion-dollar deal to someone smarter than me. Spoiler: that someone might be you."
Ashira laughs lightly.
Damien doesn't enter. He walks away.
But his fingers are clenched.
This was not in the contract.
She was supposed to stay cold. Calculated. Invisible.
So why did her laugh haunt him more than anything?
---
❄️ Bittersweet choices
Ashira returns to her bedroom, closes the door, and locks it.
She walks to the mirror, staring at her reflection.
Her heart races—not from Kian's offer, not from the power plays…
…but from a single memory of Damien's eyes earlier that night.
Was it anger?
Or something dangerously close to… possessiveness?
She touches her chest, frowning.
"I don't want feelings," she murmurs. "Not in this world. Not again."
But somewhere deep inside, her heart betrays her with a single, quiet beat.
---