The clock had ticked well past midnight, but sleep was a far-fetched idea in the Mehta sisters' room.

Aarini lay sprawled on her bed, legs lazily tangled in the blanket, a mafia dark romance novel clutched in her hands like it was her lifeline. Her eyes gleamed, lips tugging into a dreamy smile every now and then as if she was mentally teleported to the world of her dark, brooding fictional man.

In stark contrast, Divya stood near the cupboard, pulling out outfit after outfit, then discarding each one with a sigh of despair. Her first day at Oberoi Enterprises was just a few hours away and she was oscillating between panic and poise.

"God... why do I have nothing to wear despite having a full damn wardrobe?" Divya muttered, holding up a baby pink shirt against herself, examining it critically in the mirror.

"Too soft. No impact."

She turned towards the bed, frowning when she noticed her sister not responding.

“Aaru, tell me—what should I wear tomorrow?” she asked, almost pleading.

No response.

Aarini didn’t even blink. Her eyes were glued to the book as if her soul resided between those pages.

Divya sighed. “Aaru!”

Still nothing.

With dramatic flair, Divya stomped toward her and snatched the book from her hands.

“Hey!” Aarini sat up, her expression scandalized.

“You just interrupted Zayden confessing his love while pointing a gun at his enemy’s head! Are you insane?!”

Divya glanced at the page and then stared at her sister in complete horror.

“Wait… What?!”

Her eyes widened as she skimmed through a few lines.

“Aaru, what is this obsession of yours with mafia men and toxic romances?! Do you even hear the things these guys say? It’s so dark—he literally just threatened to kill someone for interrupting his kiss!”

Aarini threw her hands in the air, completely unfazed.

“Exactly! Isn’t that romantic?”

Divya stared.

“Romantic?! Aaru, if your future husband ever finds out you read stuff like this, he’ll faint. He’ll straight-up collapse on the wedding mandap.”

Aarini smirked and leaned back, hugging her pillow. “Then I’ll fan him back to life with my veil. He should’ve known better than to marry a girl whose fictional boyfriends own guns and hearts.”

Divya scoffed.

“You’re insane. You need therapy. Maybe two sessions per week.”

Aarini rolled her eyes dramatically.

“No, I need a real-life Zayden who buys me a library and has commitment issues.”

Divya laughed despite herself.

“Okay enough, Miss Mafia Lover. Let’s keep your book boyfriends aside for now and focus on my actual, real-life corporate job. Help me pick an outfit! You know how much I want to make a good first impression.”

Aarini sighed and slid off the bed.

“Fine. But only because your future depends on it. And maybe mine too—because if you end up marrying a rich office guy, I might find my mafia inspiration through him.”

Together, they rummaged through Divya’s wardrobe. After multiple arguments and fashion debates, they finally settled on a soft ivory top with lace detailing paired with a sage green long skirt that hugged her frame just right.

“Simple, elegant, classy,” Aarini declared, holding the hanger like a trophy. “You’ll look like a boss, but a nice one. Not the ‘I-will-fire-you-on-the-spot’ type. More like the ‘let-me-help-you-while-I-steal-your-desk-snacks’ type.”

Divya chuckled. “Exactly the vibe I was going for.”

They also picked a pair of small gold hoops, nude sandals, and a sleek watch.

“Now you look like someone who could melt hearts and sign contracts in the same breath,” Aarini said with a wink.

Divya sat on the bed and leaned back with a tired sigh. “You know, sometimes I wonder how we’re even related.”

Aarini stretched like a cat, picking up her beloved novel again.

“Same genes. Different obsessions.”

They laughed, their voices soft in the quiet night. Somewhere between outfit trials and mafia madness, it felt like home—warm, chaotic, and perfectly them.

As Divya set her alarm and turned off the light, Aarini’s whisper echoed into the darkness.

“I still think Zayden would make a better CEO.”

Divya groaned.

“Goodnight, psycho.”

Aarini smiled, flipping open her book beneath the blanket. “Goodnight, boring human.”

And just like that, the sisters fell into silence—one dreaming of presentations, the other of passionate declarations beneath bullet-filled skies.
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The morning sun spilled through the sheer curtains of the Mehta household, filling the space with golden warmth and sleepy yawns. Downstairs, the clatter of utensils and the aroma of ghee-laced parathas filled the air as the breakfast table began to fill up.

Rahul and Veer had already taken their places, scrolling through their phones with that signature morning grumpiness boys carried like a badge. Divya, radiant and polished in her soft ivory Top and sage green skirt, looked like the perfect first-day employee, her nervousness hidden behind a small but determined smile.

At the far end of the table, Aarini father and uncle flipped the newspaper while sipping their tea, and beside him, both her mother and Badi Maa busied themselves with serving food—though their eyes kept flicking toward the staircase.

“Aarini!” her mother shouted, her voice echoing through the halls.

“Kab tak soti rahegi ye ladki?
(How long will this girl keep sleeping?)” Badi Maa added, hands on her hips.

“Aarini! If you don’t come down in five minutes, no breakfast for you today!”

Both women huffed in unison and sat down, shaking their heads.

Almost like clockwork, two minutes later, a very groggy creature descended the stairs.

Half-asleep Aarini shuffled into the dining room like a sleep-deprived cartoon character. Her hair was a tousled bird’s nest, one pajama leg rolled up to her knees while the other dragged dramatically behind her. Her eyes were half-closed, lips in a sleepy pout, and her phone was somehow still clutched in her hand.

The entire table burst into laughter the moment they saw her.

Veer nearly choked on his toast. Rahul snorted. Even her usually stern father chuckled behind his newspaper.

“Aarini! What is this look?!” her mother gasped.

“At least take a shower before joining us like this!”

Aarini rubbed her eyes and yawned, mumbling,

“Mummy… aap hi toh boli thi, agar five minutes mein nahi aayi toh breakfast nahi milega. So I came… in five minutes. Exactly. No conditions mentioned about hygiene.”

She sat on the edge of the chair beside Divya, still wearing that endearing, shameless pout.

“Unbelievable,” Badi Maa muttered, pouring her tea.

“This girl thinks she’s starring in a sleepwalking fashion show.”

Her mother frowned.

“Aarini, why do you even stay up so late if waking up is this hard?”

Aarini lazily reached for a bite from Divya’s plate and said,

“Mom… you know I have important things to do at night.”

Badi Maa rolled her eyes with a smirk.

“Yes yes, very ‘important’. Either Netflix, Korean dramas, mafia novels, or writing your own love disaster. All very productive activities. Couldn't possibly do them in the daylight, right?”

Aarini didn’t even defend herself. She took a big bite of paratha, her cheeks full like a chipmunk. “Priorities, Badi Maa. Priorities.”

Divya looked at her and shook her head, laughing. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m adorable,” Aarini corrected proudly, finally sitting up straight and making an attempt to fix her messy bun—only for her hair tie to snap and her curls to tumble down dramatically.

Another round of laughter echoed.

Her uncle looked at her with a dry expression and said, “You know if we ever arrange your marriage, we should probably warn the groom with a user manual.”

“Or send a video of her morning version,” Veer added with a smirk. “Unfiltered horror show.”

Aarini flipped a spoon toward him, which clattered harmlessly on the table. “Jealousy is an ugly trait, Veer. Not everyone can look like me in pajamas and still radiate charm.”

They all eventually fell into easy banter and warm bites of breakfast, the kind of chaos that felt like comfort—like home.

Once plates were cleared and tea was sipped, Divya stood up and adjusted her outfit one last time. She took a deep breath, then bent to touch her parents’ and elders’ feet.

“All the best, beta,” her father said, patting her head gently.

“You’ll do great,” her mother smiled.

“Don’t be nervous,” Aarini Maa added, “Just be yourself.”

Veer stood up and gave her a casual salute. “Call me if your boss faints from your beauty.”

Divya laughed and rolled her eyes.

Aarini, now marginally more awake, gave her sister a thumbs-up. “You got this, Divu. Go show the corporate world what Mehta girls are made of.”

Divya smiled, heart full and nerves steadied, and walked out of the house with hope fluttering in her chest.

Back inside, Aarini curled back into her chair with a dreamy sigh, nibbling on another piece of paratha.

“Okay, now back to Zayden and his emotional damage,” she whispered, flipping open her book under the table.

Because really… real-world responsibilities could wait.

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The tall glass façade of Oberoi Industries gleamed like a monument of ambition beneath the warm sun. Standing in front of it, Divya Mehta drew in a sharp breath.

Her heart thudded in her chest like a ticking clock.

This is it, Divya. The first step into the world you’ve dreamt of for so long. Don’t mess it up.

She adjusted her scarf, smoothed the crease of her long green skirt, and pushed open the heavy glass doors.

The lobby was grand—polished marble floors, artistic chandeliers hanging like cascading stars, and a faint aroma of lavender in the air. People in sharp formals moved with purpose, phones pressed to ears, files tucked under arms.

A world of professionalism.

She walked up to the reception. “Good morning, I’m Divya Mehta. I’m joining today.”

The receptionist gave her a warm smile. “Welcome, Ms. Mehta. Please proceed to the 17th floor. Mr. Oberoi’s PA is expecting you.”

She thanked her, clutching her tote bag a little tighter as she entered the elevator. The moment the doors closed, she inhaled deeply.

You’ve faced tougher things, girl. This is your space now. Claim it.

The elevator dinged at the 17th floor. The doors slid open into a sophisticated office layout. Neat desks, subtle lighting, and glass partitions reflected calm efficiency. A young man in a navy blue shirt and wire-rimmed glasses approached her.

“Hello Divya. I’m Karan, Mr. Oberoi’s PA. Welcome, we met yesterday. ”

“yes, Thank you,” she smiled, easing into the conversation.

He handed her a file.

“This is your first task. Complete it before lunch and submit it directly to Mr. Vihaan Sir. His cabin is right there,” he pointed to the frosted glass room across the hall.

“Don’t worry, he is a cool person. Mostly.”

She chuckled softly, her nerves easing a little.

Her desk was by the large window. The city stretched below her in miniature, and for a moment, she let herself enjoy the view before diving into the file.

It was an analysis report—figures, charts, patterns. She furrowed her brows, rolled her sleeves up, and began.

Time blurred between calculation and documentation, her pen moving swiftly. Her phone buzzed once—Aarini’s text:

Don’t be nervous. Just kill it, dumbo.

She smiled.

By the time the clock showed 12:40, her file was complete. She double-checked everything twice, organized the pages, then stood, brushing down her kurta.

She walked to Vihaan’s cabin and knocked gently.

“Come in,” came the deep, crisp voice.

She pushed the door and stepped in.

Vihaan looked up from his laptop. For a second, the sharpness in his eyes softened. “Ms. Mehta. Done already?”

“Yes, sir. Here’s the file.”

He gestured for her to sit, taking the file from her hands. The silence that followed was filled only by the quiet flipping of pages.

Divya watched him discreetly. He had the kind of calm confidence that didn’t need to raise its voice. Sharp eyes. Clean, structured features. A presence that was hard to ignore.

After a few moments, Vihaan looked up. “Impressive. Very precise work.”

“Thank you, sir,” she replied, a little relieved.

He glanced at the time, closed the file, then hesitated. There was a slight awkwardness in his tone, rare for a man like him.

“If you don’t mind… you can join me for lunch,” he offered, eyes steady but voice a bit careful.

Divya blinked in surprise. “Sir, it’s okay. I can manage—”

“No pressure,” he added quickly, then smiled. “But you’re welcome to join me. Come on.”

Her lips curved.

“Okay. I’ll just go grab my lunch.”

Vihaan nodded.

She returned a few minutes later with her small  tiffin. Vihaan had a sleek black lunch box already open on the coffee table inside his cabin. They sat on the couch, the room suddenly far less formal.

The first bite of her food brought an immediate reaction from him.

“This is… really good. Seriously.”

Divya smiled, unfolding a tissue.

“Maa and Choti Maa both cook really well. Today it’s Choti Maa’s cooking.”

“Well, compliments to her,” Vihaan said, chewing thoughtfully.

“Actually, my Badi Maa—Reyansh bhai’s mom—she cooks too well. Like, ridiculously well. Wait. Tomorrow I’ll bring something she made. You’ll taste heaven.”

Her laughter was soft but genuine. “Then I’m looking forward to it.”

There was a quiet comfort between them as they ate—not awkward, not formal, just… simple.

After lunch, Divya returned to her desk, her heart lighter, her nerves mostly gone.

Maybe this place won’t be so terrifying after all.

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Top Floor, Oberoi Corporate Wing – Same Time

Vihaan adjusted the cuffs of his shirt as he entered his elder brother Reyansh’s cabin. The older Oberoi sibling sat by the window, reading something on his tablet.

“Ready?” Reyansh asked, standing.

Vihaan nodded. “Let’s get it done.”

The two Oberoi brothers entered the large conference room. The air was cool, professional. Inside, Mr. Khanna, a high-stakes investor and owner of Khanna Realty, awaited them with his legal advisor.

“Mr. Oberoi,” Mr. Khanna stood, offering a handshake. “Pleasure.”

“Likewise,” Reyansh replied with a polite smile.

They all took their seats.

The meeting began, charts pulled up on the screen, numbers rolled off smoothly.

“The merger deal requires clarity on the coastal project timelines,” Mr. Khanna stated, eyes sharp behind his glasses.

Vihaan leaned forward. “The coastal clearance was finalized last week. We’ve secured permits for all 3 phases. The reports are in your file.”

Mr. Khanna’s advisor scanned the documents. “We’ll need confirmation in writing by next week.”

“You’ll have it by Monday morning,” Reyansh said with quiet authority.

Mr. Khanna smiled. “I must say… the Oberoi brothers don’t waste time.”

Vihaan simply nodded. “We don’t.”

The meeting lasted another thirty minutes, productive and sleek. As they exited the conference room, Reyansh glanced at Vihaan.

“Divya started today?”

Vihaan allowed a slight smile. “Yeah. She’s good.”

Reyansh smirked.

“I can already tell.”
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Back at the 17th floor, Divya was immersed again. But a tiny part of her… kept replaying Vihaan's lunch invitation. And his smile.

Little did she know, today wasn’t just about a new job.

It was the quiet beginning of a bond.

One that had no name yet.

But one that fate was already writing.

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