The doors of Khan Global Enterprises opened exactly at 9:00 AM. The staff stood straighter, hushed their voices, and typed faster.
Because he was here.
Zayan Khan.
CEO. Billionaire. Untouchable. Unsmiling.
He walked through the lobby like a storm in a tailored suit, his black Omega watch glinting under the ceiling lights. No one dared greet him unless he spoke first. His presence made hearts race—and not in a romantic way.
Everyone feared him. Everyone respected him.
No one truly knew him.
Behind those cold eyes and perfect posture was a man raised by absent parents and silent dinners. Zayan was raised by nannies and deadlines. No bedtime stories, no birthday cakes—just silence and status.
He didn't believe in love.
He believed in results.
---
On the 47th floor, a girl rushed through the hallway, almost slipping on the polished marble.
Andaleeb Shah.
Twenty-two. Recently hired as a junior assistant in the marketing department. Lively, playful, and chronically five minutes late.
She wasn't afraid of anyone—not even the CEO.
"Late again, Miss Shah," muttered Rania, the floor manager, as Andaleeb stumbled past.
"I swear the lift hates me," Andaleeb grinned, brushing her hair back and pulling out her ID card. "It stops on every floor like it's doing sightseeing."
Rania rolled her eyes. "You'll joke your way out of a job one day."
"I hope it's a job I don't like, then," she winked, and skipped toward her cubicle.
Two minutes later, her screen lit up with a company-wide memo.
> "All department heads to gather in the conference room at 9:30.
— Zayan Khan."
She groaned dramatically. "Yay. Devil time."
---
Exactly at 9:30, the conference room was filled with anxious department heads. Coffee cups trembled slightly in their hands.
Zayan entered without a word.
Everyone stood.
"Sit," he said curtly, and they did.
The meeting began with project reviews, marketing budgets, logistics reports. Zayan moved through them like a machine—precise, flawless, emotionless.
Until a small laugh echoed outside the glass wall.
He looked up sharply.
Andaleeb was outside the room, covering her mouth, trying to hide a giggle as she talked to an intern. Zayan narrowed his eyes.
"Rania," he said. "Is this the level of professionalism you're managing?"
Rania jumped. "I—I'll handle it immediately, sir."
Zayan's stare lingered on the girl outside. She was still laughing.
She didn't even notice him looking.
That annoyed him more.
---
An hour later, Aryan—Zayan's sharp and slightly nosy assistant—walked in with a report.
"She was the one laughing earlier?" Zayan asked, eyes still on his screen.
"Yes, sir. The new one. Andaleeb Shah."
He didn't respond.
"She's a bit... different," Aryan added carefully.
Zayan closed the file and said flatly, "Shift her cubicle. Closer to my office."
Aryan blinked. "Sir?"
"I want to keep an eye on her performance."
"Performance... right," Aryan smirked slightly. "You know, you've never asked for any assistant's desk to be moved before."
Zayan shot him a look. "I don't like her. She's careless. She's a distraction."
"But a beautiful one?"
Zayan didn't answer.
---
Two days later, Andaleeb's cubicle was right across from Zayan's glass office.
She didn't seem to care.
In fact, she waved at him on her first day in the new spot.
He didn't wave back.
He just turned and muttered under his breath, "Annoying woman."
---
Later that week, chaos hit.
Zayan was preparing for the biggest investor presentation of the quarter—a deal worth millions. Everyone was tense.
The night before, he worked till 2:00 AM.
The morning of the meeting… he arrived sharp and cold as ever.
But five minutes before he walked into the boardroom…
"Sir," Aryan gasped, panic on his face, "the documents—your portfolio—where is it?"
Zayan's hand froze mid-air.
He checked his briefcase.
Gone.
The entire file—the one he stayed up all night refining—was missing.
A silence dropped.
For the first time in years, Zayan Khan felt helpless.
Then the doors opened.
Andaleeb Shah rushed in, holding a file close to her chest.
"I think you forgot this, sir," she said, slightly out of breath. "You left it in the printing room. I saw your name and... well… thought it looked important."
Everyone stared.
Zayan slowly took the file from her hands. Their fingers touched.
He looked at her. Really looked at her.
She didn't smile.
She didn't joke.
She just looked calm and kind.
And for the first time in years…
Zayan Khan didn't feel alone.
---
The meeting was a success.
Investors cheered. Numbers soared.
But all Zayan could think about was the moment she walked in—exactly when he needed her.
Later that evening, Aryan leaned against the doorframe of Zayan's office.
"So... you like her?"
Zayan didn't even look up. "No. I don't like anyone."
"You had her cubicle moved. You didn't shout when she interrupted the meeting. You almost smiled when she gave you the file."
"I. Don't. Like. Her," Zayan said firmly. "I'm Zayan Khan. I don't have time for this nonsense."
Aryan chuckled. "Sure. Just don't be surprised if the 'nonsense' changes your life."