[Aurora's POV]
The city of Eldoria, nestled in the heart of Zhephondor, was a battlefield where power and strategy ruled. And in this battlefield, I never lost.
The towering skyline of Eldoria stretched beyond the tinted windows of my office, its gleaming buildings reflecting the amber hues of the setting sun. Below, the streets pulsed with life—executives in tailored suits, sleek black cars moving in practiced synchronization, and the distant hum of ambition that never truly faded. This was my empire. A world I had carved for myself with ruthless precision.
Inside the conference room, the air was thick with anticipation. Unlike the other rooms in this building, this space was designed for me—not just for meetings, but for control. The sleek, floor-to-ceiling tinted glass provided an unfiltered view of the city, while the soundproof walls ensured that no secrets ever left this room. An oval table, large enough to host my most critical discussions, gleamed under the glow of recessed LED lights. This wasn't a place for mistakes.
And yet—
A sharp intake of breath.
"Ma'am... I think I called the wrong number."
I turned my head slowly.
Riya—one of the junior employees—gripped her phone with trembling hands, her face drained of all color. The tremor in her voice was unmistakable. Around the table, the team sat frozen, eyes darting toward me, waiting for my response.
"What do you mean, 'wrong number'?" My voice was calm. Controlled.
Her throat bobbed. "I… I was trying to confirm a client's availability, but I—I dialed the wrong contact. It was an unknown number on the list. I thought—"
Her phone buzzed aggressively in her hands.
A call back.
The air shifted. A sudden weight descended upon the room, pressing against our chests. The team collectively stiffened.
I held out my hand. "Answer it. Speaker."
With shaky fingers, she obeyed.
Then—his voice.
"Who the hell are you? And why are you calling my personal number?"
A chill ran through the room.
Deep. Cold. Commanding.
It wasn't just anger—it was the kind of voice that carried power, the kind that could make most people shiver if they weren't strong enough.
Riya looked ready to pass out.
"I—I'm sorry, sir, it was a mistake—"
"A mistake?" His tone was sharp enough to cut through glass. "Do you have any idea whose number you just dialed?"
My fingers tightened slightly against the armrest of my chair. I knew the weight of a man who wielded power effortlessly. I had faced them before. I was one of them.
Riya fumbled for words, but nothing came. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken threats.
Enough.
Adjusting the cuff of my crisp white blazer, I reached for the phone. The gold of my wristwatch glinted under the LED lights, a stark contrast to my dark, wavy hair cascading past my lower back. Bringing the phone to my ear, I let a brief silence hang before speaking.
"I'm the one handling this mess."
A pause.
Then—his voice, colder this time. "And who exactly are you?"
I remained impassive. "That's not important. What is important is that this was a misdial—an error on our part. And for that, I apologize."
A slight shift in his breathing. He wasn't expecting that.
"An apology?" He let out a low chuckle. "You think that's enough?"
"I believe an apology is due when a mistake is made," I said smoothly, "but I also believe in keeping things in perspective. This was an unintentional dial. We'll ensure it doesn't happen again."
A pause.
"You have guts, I'll give you that."
I remained unfazed. "If that's all, we'll be moving on with our day."
His voice darkened. "You'll regret speaking to me like that."
My fingers drummed lightly against the desk. "We'll see."
And then—I ended the call before he could.
Silence.
My team held their breath, waiting for an outburst that never came.
I set the phone down and turned back to the screen. "Let's continue."
But in the back of my mind, I knew—this wasn't over.
Not even close