Nandini

Within forty-five minutes, I reached the office. Throughout the entire ride, a strange feeling followed me as if he was somewhere near me. But where? And why was I feeling this way?

Shaking off those restless thoughts, I stepped out of the car and walked into the office.

The moment I stepped inside, everything felt sharp, disciplined, and intensely professional.

Tall glass walls separated the cabins, offering a clear view of people moving briskly, files clutched tightly in their hands. Everyone looked focused and serious, dressed in crisp formals, their faces carrying quiet confidence.

And among them all, I felt out of place not because of how I looked, but because of something deep within me. A voice inside kept screaming, reminding me of my status, my reality, my fears.

Nervousness wrapped around me like a tight grip. My palms turned damp, my heart thudded violently against my chest.

“Raghav… I need you,” my soul cried out silently.

At that exact moment, my phone buzzed.

“In the middle of difficulties, you’ve been given an opportunity.

Trust yourself. You know more than you think you do.

Try not to be nervous I know you’ll rock this, my little bird.

All the very best…”

It was anonymous.

Yet my heart broke open with emotion.

I didn’t need a name.

I knew the sender could be no one else but him.

A smile slowly curved my lips, and with it came the confidence I had been missing all along.

Standing before the mirror, I adjusted myself, took a deep breath, and smiled back at my reflection. Then, with steady steps, I moved forward.

“Hi, I’m Nandini. I’m here for the interview.”

Three hours later

I walked out with that same confidence still intact perhaps even stronger because the interview had gone well… far better than I had ever expected.

Stepping out of the building, my eyes fell on him and my breath hitched.

He was casually leaning against the car, as if the world had all the time it needed. Dressed in a crisp white shirt, sleeves folded up to his elbows, dark veins clearly visible along his forearms. Effortlessly, dangerously handsome.

There was a glint in his eyes warm yet intense and in his hand, a large bouquet of flowers.

How could someone look this breathtaking in something so simple?

In that moment, everything else faded. It was just him… standing there, waiting and my heart knew, even before my mind could catch up.

Sensing my presence, he straightened up, that die-for smile playing on his lips.

I slowly walked toward him, and that’s when it hit me it was the same car I had come in. I looked around, searching for the driver, confused.

“I was in the driver’s seat,” he said casually.

My eyes widened in shock.

So he was there… all along. But why like that?

“I didn’t want to make you nervous before such an important interview,” he added, gently handing me the bouquet while taking the files from my hands.

How did he read me so effortlessly?

“How was the interview?” he asked softly, gently tucking the fallen strands of hair away from my face.

“Hmm… it was good,” I replied.

“Good,” he said, a warm smile curving his lips. “I’m proud of you.”

Just those few words were enough to send me over the moon. Tears welled up in my eyes, threatening to spill, but I forced myself to hold them back. Taking a deep breath, I composed myself and asked softly, “Why are you here? Aren’t the Mehtas visiting today?”

“They can wait,” he replied, his voice filled with quiet affection. “We have to go somewhere. Come.”

He gently helped me settle into the passenger seat. I was confused… and nervous. My mind buzzed with questions, but for the moment, I chose silence.

After about half an hour, the car slowed to a stop. I looked outside and my breath hitched.

We had arrived at the most prominent residential complex in the city.

A towering thirty-storey building rose proudly into the sky, its glass façade reflecting sunlight like polished crystal. The entrance was grand wide driveways, elegant stonework, and perfectly manicured gardens lining every corner. Palm trees stood in disciplined rows, water features murmured softly, and luxury cars moved in and out with effortless grace. Every inch of the place whispered power, class, and undeniable wealth.

This wasn’t just a building.

It was a statement.

After clearing the tight security check, we stepped inside. The lobby was vast and breathtaking high ceilings, marble floors that gleamed beneath warm lights, a chandelier hanging like frozen starlight. The air smelled faintly of expensive perfume and polished wood.

I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Why are we here?” I asked, my voice low but edged with unease.

“Relax, little bird. You’ll know soon,” he replied calmly.

That calmness… it irritated me to no end.

Why was he always like this? So composed. So unreadable.

Why did he have to be so confusing?

We stepped forward, and a group of well-dressed men immediately approached us.

“Good afternoon, sir… ma’am. How are you?” one of them greeted politely.

Before I could even respond, he answered curtly, his tone sharp and commanding.

“Is it ready?”

The man stiffened at once. “Y-Yes, sir. Please… this way.”

Then, as if someone had flipped a switch, he turned to me and said softly,

“Come, little bird.”

I blinked, taken aback.

Was he even real?

One moment he was cold and intimidating, the next gentle and warm only for me.

“Monkey,” I muttered under my breath, barely audible.

His hand rested lazily on my waist, firm yet familiar, guiding me forward as we walked.

We stepped into the private lift, and with a soft chime, the doors slid shut. The ascent was smooth and silent, the numbers lighting up one by one until they finally stopped at 30.

The doors opened and I forgot how to breathe.

It was a penthouse, nothing like I had ever seen before.

The space unfolded wide and grand, drenched in natural light pouring in through floor-to-ceiling glass walls. From this height, the city lay stretched beneath us, glittering and alive, as if the world itself had been placed at our feet. The ceiling was high, giving the entire place an airy, expansive feel, luxury without excess, elegance without noise.

Muted tones of beige, ivory, and soft greys dominated the interiors, broken only by rich wooden accents and sleek marble flooring. Minimal yet powerful furniture sat perfectly aligned, each piece screaming class and wealth without needing to show off. A massive glass wall opened to a private balcony, where greenery softened the sharp city skyline beyond.

This wasn’t just a house.

It was a statement.

A place meant for someone who ruled quietly confident, composed, untouchable.

I stood there, stunned, realizing one thing very clearly, something was going to change.