The chapter is unedited so read accordingly
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The dinner had gone surprisingly well for me—no taunts, no disliked glances. A rare, peaceful moment. After finishing, I retreated to my room while he stayed in his study. I was waiting for him to come so I could inform him about resuming my work soon.
I sighed, glancing at the clock. An hour had passed. Does this man never feel sleepy? Work was one thing, but this was bordering on obsession.
"Neend nahi aati kya inhe? Itna bhi kya kaam hai?" I mumbled to myself before deciding to go find him.
Does he not feel sleepy? How much work does he even have?)
I got up and made my way toward his study. The door was slightly ajar when I reached, but I knocked anyway.
COME IN
Came his voice, deep and laced with authority, sent a shiver down my spine. It was the kind of voice that demanded attention, effortlessly commanding power.
I stepped inside, and my gaze instantly fell on him. He was engrossed in a phone call, his back turned to me. The dim light cast long shadows over the room, highlighting the rigid flex of his broad shoulders beneath his fitted t-shirt. His presence alone was overpowering, his muscles shifting subtly as he moved. The way his broad shoulders flexed under his T-shirt made him look undeniably attractive.
"Chup, bilkul chup. Faltu sochna band kar Vrinda," I scolded myself. (Quiet, completely quiet! Don't think unnecessary things!)
As my eyes wandered, I took in the surroundings. His study reflected his persona—dark, intimidating, and exuding silent power. A massive oak desk stood in the center, cluttered yet meticulously arranged with files, financial reports, and a sleek laptop glowing faintly. The bookshelves lined against the walls were filled with thick leather-bound volumes—business strategies, economics, and law. Not a single personal touch. No photographs. No warmth. Just cold, calculated efficiency. Dim lighting from a grand chandelier cast a moody glow, complementing the deep, rich tones of the décor. The place carried his essence—powerful, controlled, and impenetrable.
Lost in my thoughts, I absently peered at the financial statement lying open on his desk. The crisp numbers and structured data immediately caught my attention.
"Don't look. You won't understand."
His voice cut through the silence, snapping me out of my thoughts. I turned to find him watching me, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. He had ended his call and was now fully facing me.
I met his smirk with one of my own—victorious, challenging. The flicker of confusion in his eyes made it even more satisfying.
His brows furrowed slightly at my reaction. Amusement flickered in his eyes made it even more satisfying, then with quiet confidence, a touch of attitude and crossing my arms I replied
"Main hi banaya hai"
(I made it.)
His smirk faltered Bingo, his brows furrowing slightly. He stood there, shocked but more confused, while I enjoyed the moment. After a few seconds, he asked,
"What do you mean?" His voice held a rare curiosity.
With quiet confidence, and just a touch of arrogance, I replied, "Mr. Singhania, I mean to say that I am a CA article (intern.)"
a hint of mockery in my tone was evident
The look on his face was worth watching when he realized I was a CA student. I watched in amusement as realization dawned upon him. The great Advait Singhania caught off guard. He had clearly underestimated me.
He blinked, processing my words. What does he think of himself, huh? Honga CEO yeh, par CA toh main bhi hoon!"
(He may be a CEO, but I'm also a CA!)
"Balika abhi bani kaha ho," (girl you have not become till now ) my subconscious reminded me.
"Haan toh, ban jaungi, bas final hi toh bacha hai," I said. (Not a big deal only my final is left )
He was still watching me. Then, adding to his shock, I continued, "And I am doing my articleship (internship) from Singhania Groups and Co., Mr. Singhania."
He stood stunned, and I controlled my laugh.
"Sher ke rajya mein uska mazaak banakar marna thodi hai mujhe," I reminded myself.
(I don't want to die mocking him in his own domain)
He recovered from his initial shock, regained his composure and shoving his hands into his pockets, took a step forward. Instinctively, I stepped back. There was still a good amount of distance between us but caution never hurt. After all, no matter how annoying he was, there was no denying that he was dangerously handsome. Best to keep my wits intact, so staying away would keep my mind at peace.
"So, you're preparing for CA?" he asked with a calm but firm voice.
Yes, I replied and nodded.
"Isliye chashmish hai aap," he teased, crossing his arms over his chest with a subtle smile though he tried to hide it. But the twitch in his lips made it evident.
I nodded at his words, standing there obediently like a kid in front of him.
He towered over me, and I had to crane my neck to look up at him and match his eyes.
And suddenly, as his words registered...
"Did he just call me chashmish?" I thought.
"Yes, balika," confirmed my mind.
I looked up at him and said firmly, "Don't call me chashmish."
"Why? You are one," he replied smoothly, leaning back slightly, his tone effortless and voice deep his lips curving ever so slightly.
"But... but..." I stammered, opened my mouth, ready to argue, but my brain decided to betray me at the worst possible moment. Think, Vrinda, think! But of course, nothing came.
Annoyed, I dropped my gaze, my fingers curling into the hem of my oversized T-shirt. My slipper-clad foot traced an invisible pattern on the floor as frustration bubbled inside me.
"Time par kaha kuch yaad hai... Nishfal Buddhi." (निष्फल बुद्धि). (Did you forget everything on time? Useless brain.)
"But don't call me that," I finally said my voice smaller than I intended.
He tilted his head slightly, his sharp blue eyes studying me like I was some sort of puzzle he was trying to figure out. A pause stretched between us, thick with something I couldn't place.
Then, finally he spoke "Okay, chashmish."
My head snapped up, lips parting in disbelief. Did he just—
A sigh left me, but before I could stop myself, a small, traitorous smile curved my lips. Finally, he agreed.
He paused for a moment his gaze flickered across my face , lingering for a second longer than necessary before he finally asked, "What are you doing here?"
"I'm joining office soon, so I came here to inform you," I said waiting for his response.
He nodded, his expression unreadable, making it difficult for me to comprehend what was on his mind. Feeling perplexed, I left, hoping my working wouldn't cause any problems. Because, honestly, I didn't care if anyone approved or not. I wanted to build my career, be independent, and enjoy true financial freedom. I wanted to spend freely, travel the world, buy clothes, and help those in need with whatever I could. Most importantly, I wanted my own money—money that I had earned.
Moreover, I have a responsibility to fulfill—to take care of him. A promise that must be kept. The only person I can truly call mine in this world, where everyone else has left me alone.
I shook my head, willing myself not to get too emotional. With a heavy heart, I walked to the room, plopped onto the sofa, and surrendered to sleep.
The Next Morning
The alarm snoozed.
I grabbed my phone—5:30 AM.
"Bas 15 minute aur," I mumbled, rolling over.
The morning rays peeped through, irritating my slumber. I reached for a pillow and covered my face, but suddenly, something hit me—I hastily reached for my phone, and I was done for.
It was 7:30.
"Oh bhagwan ji, yeh 15 minutes se 2 ghante kab ho gaye?!" (Oh God, when did 15 minutes turn into 2 hours?!)
I quickly grabbed my glasses, hastily stood up, and started moving towards the bathroom—but my foot hit the edge of the sofa.
"Ahhh yaar!" (Ahh man!)
Wincing, I reached the door, held the knob—and got another shock. It was locked.
"Aaiyoooooooo!" (Oh no!)
"Kya hai?" (What is this?)
"Jab der hoti hai tabhi sab kuch ek saath hona hota hai!" (When you're running late, everything just has to go wrong at once!)
"Bhagwan ji, kyun maze le rahe ho aap?!" (God, why are you enjoying my misery?!)
I waited outside for five minutes, tapping my foot impatiently. Then, my patience wavered. I knocked on the door. No response. I knocked again.
Still no response.
"Ugh, yeh insaan!" (Ugh, this person!)
"Jawab toh de sakta hai na?" (At least he could respond!)
"Muh mein dahi thodi jama rakha hai!" (It's not like he's got curd stuffed in his mouth!)
Leaving my not-so-important thoughts aside—
"You mean nonsense, balika" my subconscious chimed in.
"Just shut upppppp!" I scolded myself.
"Aapko aur kitna time lagega?" (How much longer will you take?) I finally asked—actually, I shouted from outside.
"15 minutes" he replied his voice as usual deep and somewhat hoarse.
"Thoda jaldi kariye na!" (Can you hurry up a little?) I pleaded.
"Mujhe late ho raha hai!" (I'm getting late!)
"You should have woken up earlier if you were getting this late," he taunted.
"Taane guru kahin ka!" (Ugh, the king of taunts!)
Honestly, apart from business, he could also start taunt classes, I thought.
"Advait's Taunt Academy – Taane Free, Suffering Guaranteed!"
Calm down, Vrii. Calm down. I reminded myself.
.
.
After what felt like an eternity, he finally came out, looking ever so unbothered. I rushed past him, lightly wincing as my leg was still aching.
"Gadhe kahin ke," (What a donkey!) I mumbled to myself and was about to enter when—
"Stop."
His voice cut through the air, halting me in my tracks. My heart skipped a beat.
Did he hear me call him gadhe?!
Aaj subah kiski shakal dekhi thi maine?! (Whose face did I see this morning?!) I internally cursed my luck.
Slowly, I turned towards him. He took long, deliberate steps, closing the distance between us, and before I knew it, he was standing right in front of me—towering over me with his oonth si height (camel-like height). His ocean-blue eyes, as usual were cold, but it also held something different today—something I couldn't quite decipher.
And before I could even process what was happening—
"Ahhh!"
A sharp shriek left my mouth as I suddenly found myself lifted into the air, in his arms cradled effortlessly.
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