SHATTERED HER HEART

CHAPTER 02

Nainital is beautiful—painfully so. The lake lies like a mirror, reflecting the snow-dusted peaks that guard this valley. The air is crisp, scented faintly of pine and wet earth, the kind of freshness that makes tourists sigh in delight. The resort itself is perched elegantly near the water, its glass walls catching the sunlight, its balconies opening to views that could make poets weep.

But for me? Every corner here whispers of wounds I’d rather forget. The Snow View Point, the winding Mall Road, the lake itself—they’re etched into my memory, not with nostalgia, but with scars.

If it weren’t for my father, I wouldn’t have survived what this place once did to me.

Mystery clings to Nainital like mist. Tourists see romance; I see ghosts.

“Isha Christian Gilbert,” I muttered to myself, staring at my reflection in the window. “Daughter of Christian Elias Gilbert and Inara Gilbert. The youngest business diva. The prodigy CEO of Infinity Group.” Titles I wore like armor, shields against the world.

But nothing made me prouder than being called Christian Gilbert’s daughter. My father— the man, the legend, the empire. He made me strong, trained me in jujutsu and self-defense, drilled resilience into my bones. I hated every second of it, but I loved him too much to refuse.

And now, here I am, his perfectly groomed heir, ready to reject the deal he clearly wants me to embrace. Because if Dad thinks Vihaan Malhotra is the answer, I’m determined to prove he’s the wrong question.

Sameera’s voice broke my thoughts. “Ma’am, your phone.”

Caller ID: Dad. My lips curved into a smile before I even answered.

“Hey Dad, I’m fine. At Mr. Malhotra’s resort. Been here half an hour. Expecting him in fifteen.”

His sigh was audible, Mom’s giggle faint in the background. I knew exactly why.

“Ishu, you can just call him Vihaan,” Dad said, voice firm, almost commanding.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes though he couldn’t see me. “Well, I’m here for business, Dad. Formality suits the occasion.”

Dad chuckled, but there was a warmth in his tone. “You know, Ishu, Vihaan isn’t just some businessman. His father and I were childhood friends back in Liverpool. We lost contact when life pulled us in different directions, but when this deal came across my desk, I realized it was his family. Imagine my surprise, finding my long-lost friend through business papers. It feels like fate, doesn’t it?”

I stiffened, irritation bubbling. “Fate? Dad, please. Don’t romanticize this. It’s business. And I don’t care if you two shared crayons in kindergarten. I’m not here to rekindle your bromance.”

Mom’s voice chimed in, gentle but teasing. “Oh, Ishu, don’t be so harsh. Vihaan was born and raised in Liverpool, just like you spent your childhood in London. He understands the world you come from. He only moved back to India recently to honor his grandfather’s dream. Doesn’t that sound noble?”

I groaned audibly. “Noble? Or foolish? Who leaves Liverpool for this place? Honestly, Mom, you’re making him sound like some hero. He’s just another businessman trying to play the dutiful grandson card.”

Dad’s voice grew firmer, though still affectionate. “He’s more than that, Ishu. He’s intelligent, ambitious, and respected. People admire him. And I think you’ll admire him too, once you stop being so stubborn.”

I scoffed again, sarcasm dripping. “Admire him? Sure, Dad. I’ll add him to my list of people I pretend to admire while secretly plotting my escape.”

Mom laughed softly, though I could hear the worry beneath it. “You’ll see, baby. Sometimes the people we least want to meet turn out to be the ones who change everything.”

I bit my lip, frustration clawing at me. “Mom, Dad, I don’t want change. I want to finish this meeting, reject the deal, and go home. That’s it.”

Dad sighed, but there was a note of excitement he couldn’t hide. “Just give him a chance, Ishu. For me. For the friendship I lost and found again. You might be surprised.”

I sighed and ended the call.

Quarter to four. Time to dress up for the meeting. I checked myself in the full-length mirror—sharp suit, sharper eyes. The reflection stared back, equal parts diva and daughter, equal parts steel and scars.

Sameera hovered nervously, her hands twisting together as though she was trying to wring the tension out of her own body. “Ma’am, are you sure you don’t want me to stay during the meeting?” she asked, her voice hesitant, almost pleading, as if she feared leaving me alone with the man whose name had been haunting every conversation for weeks.

I smirked, tilting my head, my sarcasm rising like a shield. “What, you think I’ll punch him in the face? Relax. I’ll be civil. Sarcastic, maybe, but civil. I promise not to throw him into the lake, though the thought is tempting.”

Sameera laughed nervously, the sound brittle, but her eyes betrayed her concern. “I just… I know how much you hate this place, and I know how much you hate being forced into things. I don’t want you to feel cornered.”

“I don’t hate the place,” I corrected, adjusting my blazer with deliberate precision, my reflection staring back at me with cold defiance. “I hate the memories. And the people who made them. This lake, these hills, they’re beautiful, but beauty doesn’t erase scars. And Vihaan Malhotra choosing this place for our meeting feels like salt rubbed into wounds I never asked to reopen.”

Sameera hesitated, then said softly, “Maybe he doesn’t know what this place means to you. Maybe he just wanted to show you something he loves.”

I scoffed, my tone sharp. “Oh, how considerate. Dragging me to the one place I loathe, just to show off his resort. If that’s his idea of charm, I’m already unimpressed.”

The phone call with my parents replayed in my mind, their voices echoing with excitement I couldn’t share. Dad’s tone had been firm, almost commanding, but beneath it was a boyish enthusiasm I hadn’t heard in years.

“Ishu, you can just call him Vihaan,” he had said, his voice carrying the weight of expectation. Dad’s voice had grown firmer, though still affectionate, his excitement impossible to hide.

“He’s not just some businessman; he is more than that. You two are going to meet and interact with each other, and through you guys, our families will get to meet and greet each other. It feels like fate, doesn’t it? You know people admire him. And I think you’ll admire him too, once you stop being so stubborn. His father was one of the kindest men I knew, and seeing his son now, carrying the family legacy, it feels like life has come full circle. I want you to meet him not just as a business partner, but as the son of my old friend or maybe something more, no pressure. Totally up to you.”

Now, standing in front of the mirror, I could still hear their voices, their laughter, their hope. I bit my lip, frustration clawing at me, my pride bristling, I decided. “I want to finish this meeting, reject the deal, and go home. That’s it.”

As I stood there looking at my reflection, staring back at me,

Sameera’s voice pulled me back.

“Ma’am, you know your parents only want what’s best for you. They see something in Mr. Malhotra that you don’t. Maybe they’re right.”

I turned to her, my tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Oh, wonderful. Now you too? First my father, then my mother, and now my secretary. Everyone seems to think Vihaan Malhotra is the second coming of perfection. What’s next, the hotel staff lining up to sing his praises?”

Sameera smiled faintly, her loyalty unwavering.

“I’m just saying… maybe you should keep an open mind. You’re strong enough to handle whatever comes, even if it’s not what you expect.”

I sighed, my frustration simmering.

“Open mind? Sameera, my mind is open enough to know when someone is trying to manipulate me. And right now, everyone seems to be pushing me toward this man as if he’s the answer to all my problems. But I don’t need answers. I need peace. And I won’t find it here.”

Five to four. Showtime.

The infamous Vihaan Malhotra awaited.

And me?

I was ready to end this charade and walk away.

Or so I thought.