The golden-orange hue of early evening splashed across the glass façade of Oberoi Industries, casting a warm glow on the pavement where Aarini leaned against her scooty, tapping her foot with the impatience of a sister who had shopping plans and a very dramatic imagination.

Aarini tossed her hair back with a flair, scanning the crowd near the exit.

“Where is she? She better not ditch me for office work,” she murmured, adjusting the sleeves of her denim jacket.

Just then, the huge sliding doors of the building opened with a quiet whoosh, and out walked Divya—beside none other than Vihaan Oberoi. They were mid-conversation, walking side by side, and laughing softly over something Vihaan had said.

Aarini’s eyebrows shot up. A slow, mischievous grin curled her lips.

“Well, well, Miss Divya... you didn’t tell me this part of your day.”

Divya caught sight of Aarini and nearly stopped in her tracks.

Uh-oh, she thought. That look. I know that look. She's going to tease me to death. R.I.P me.

Divya cleared her throat and walked faster to reach her sister, Vihaan still casually following her, scrolling something on his phone.

Aarini stood upright, folding her arms with that devilish sparkle still dancing in her eyes.

Vihaan looked up and smiled politely. “Hi… Aarini?”

“Hello” Aarini smiled sweetly, “and you must be Vihaan Sir—thanks for helping with Lucy the other day.”

Vihaan smiled warmly. “How is she now?”

“She’s better, thank you,” she said, then tilted her head playfully.

“But your bhai, on the other hand—uff, what a khadoos man! Bilkul ostrich jaise. Jise dekho, laat maar de!”

(“He’s just like an ostrich—kicks anyone who comes near him!”)

Vihaan burst out laughing. Divya gasped and turned to Aarini, mortified.

“Aarini! What are you saying?! Chup ho ja, please! That's his brother you’re talking about!”

Vihaan waved it off with a chuckle. Aarini, still completely unbothered, pouted and gave Divya the puppy eyes.

“Vihaan sir won’t mind, right?”

Vihaan shook his head, amused.

“No no, she’s... entertaining.”

“Told you!” Aarini beamed, then looked at Divya triumphantly.
“See? Jo jaisa hota hai, usse waisa bolna galat thodi hota hai!”

(“If someone is like that, calling them out isn’t wrong!”)

But just as she finished her sentence, a sharp voice sliced through the air.

“Oh really?”

The three of them turned. There, standing with a deadpan face and arms crossed, was Reyansh Oberoi.

The air shifted. Divya held her breath. Vihaan’s amused smile faded.

Reyansh strode forward with slow, deliberate steps, the kind that screamed authority—and maybe a hint of irritation.

He stopped right in front of Aarini.

“She’s kidding, bhai,” Vihaan said quickly, trying to defuse the tension. “Just joking around.”

Reyansh cocked his head and gave Aarini a flat stare. “yes, She’s kidding because… she is a kid.”

Aarini narrowed her eyes.

“Oh hello! I am not a kid. Understand? I’m 22.”

Reyansh smirked.
“Sure. But your actions? Purely juvenile. Maybe your age has grown, but your brain clearly didn’t get the memo.”

Aarini scoffed, placing a hand on her hip.

“And you! Talking about maturity? Mr. Ostrich—you act like one and look like someone’s grumpy uncle! Haan, tabhi toh tumhe itni badi ladki bhi bacha lagti hai!”

(“Yes, no wonder a grown girl looks like a child to you!”)

Reyansh blinked. “What? Don’t call me—”

“Ostrich?” she interrupted, smug. “I won’t call you ostrich again. I’ll call you something else. Like… Ostrich 2.0.”

Divya clamped her mouth shut to stop a laugh. Vihaan bit the inside of his cheek.

Reyansh’s jaw ticked. “I told you not to call me that. Otherwise—”

“Otherwise what?” Aarini challenged, raising an eyebrow.

Before the showdown escalated further, Divya rushed in and grabbed Aarini’s arm, whispering sharply,

“Aaru, please stop. He’s my boss. If he fires me because of you—”

Meanwhile, Vihaan leaned toward Reyansh and muttered, “Bhai, let it go. She’s doing it on purpose to get on your nerves. Don’t give her the satisfaction.”

Reyansh and Aarini glared at each other like cats about to swipe.

Aarini finally huffed and said, “But listen, Mr. Reyansh Oberoi, if you ever take revenge on my sister for my words…”

Reyansh folded his arms. “Then what?”

Divya climbed onto the scooty behind Aarini as Aarini grinned like a villain from a teen drama.

“Then, it’ll prove you really are an ostrich,” she said sweetly, revved up the scooty, and zoomed off before Reyansh could fire back.

He stood there, utterly speechless, watching her disappear into traffic.

Did she just… insult me… and run?!

He looked to the side. Vihaan had his hand over his mouth, clearly holding back laughter.

Reyansh turned toward him, glaring.

“You’re laughing with her. You both were making fun of me. I should shift Divya to another department.”

Vihaan’s eyes widened. “Bhai no! You can’t do that. If you do, Aarini’s words will actually come true—and that will make you… well…”

“…an ostrich?” Reyansh said dryly.

Vihaan gave him a sheepish smile.

Reyansh muttered something under his breath and ran a hand down his face.

“Come on, bhai,” Vihaan said quickly, hopping into the passenger seat of the car.

“Dadaji must be waiting.”

They drove off, Reyansh in silence, tapping the steering wheel. Every time he opened his mouth to vent, Vihaan interrupted with:

“Wait, bhai… urgent mail coming. Just 2 mins.”

The entire ride passed like that. By the time they reached Oberoi Mansion, Reyansh was seconds away from screaming.

Vihaan jumped out of the car and darted inside the house without looking back.

Reyansh stared after him, lips parted. “Did he just… ditch me?”

He leaned back in his seat and let out a loud sigh.

Then he ran a hand through his hair, glaring at nothing in particular.

“Wild cat,” he muttered. “You’re seriously getting on my nerves. Ugh. Next time—next time I’m coming prepared.”

And with that declaration, Reyansh Oberoi stepped out of the car, the last sliver of his ego trailing behind him as he walked into his house.

Little did he know, this was just the beginning.
.

.

.

The long oak dining table gleamed under the crystal chandelier, the flicker of golden light dancing across polished cutlery and steaming silver dishes. Oberoi Mansion was never short of grandeur, but tonight, it was the laughter and clinks of dinnerware that made the hall feel alive.

Dadaji took the head seat as always, adjusting his shawl with regal pride, while Dev and Rekha, Raghav and Meera sat on their chair. Across the table, Reyansh looked stoic—his usual look—until someone decided to poke the lion.

That someone, obviously, was Pari.

“You know, Bhai,” Pari said, popping a spoon of dal into her mouth with a teasing smirk, “I’ve noticed your mood’s been... unusually spicy lately. Any special reason?” Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

Reyansh didn’t even look up.

“It’s the food. Tell chef to use less chili next time.”

Vihaan snorted. “Yeah, right. Food’s not the one calling you Mr. Ostrich outside your own office.”

That earned a loud cough from Neil who nearly choked on his roti.

Dadaji raised an eyebrow. “Ostrich? Who’s calling whom an ostrich again?”

“Apparently same girl who thinks my son is a zoo exhibit,” Meera said, wiping her hands with the napkin and trying hard not to smile.

Dev laughed, sipping water. “I’ve heard worse. Remember what Rekha used to call me when we were dating?”

Rekha immediately looked scandalized. “Dev! That wasn’t meant to be shared with our kids present!”

Neil leaned forward. “Now I have to know.”

“Nope,” Dev chuckled, “family secrets.”

“Boring,” Neil muttered dramatically.

Pari grinned and nudged Reyansh. “So who’s this Miss Ostrich Expert? Tell us, Bhai. Don’t act all royal and mysterious now.”

Reyansh gave her a deadpan look. “Pari, eat your vegetables.”

“But I’m full.”

“Eat your vegetables.”

Meera chuckled. “Beta, vegetables won’t help her curiosity. You’re clearly hiding something.”

“I’m not hiding anything,” Reyansh snapped. Then softer, he muttered, “She’s just... annoying.”

“Oh-ho!” Vihaan leaned forward like a gossip auntie. “Annoying but unforgettable. She called you an ostrich twice today. Loudly.”

Rekha turned to Meera.

“A girl bold enough to argue with Reyansh in public? I want to meet her. Where no one can talk in front of Reyansh here that girl called him orstrich."

Raghav, who’d been mostly silent, looked up from his plate.

“You will. At this rate, she’ll probably storm into our dining room by next week just to call him names over dinner.”

Everyone burst out laughing—except Reyansh, whose spoon now stabbed mercilessly at his rice.

“I swear,” he muttered under his breath, “next time I see her, I’ll come prepared.” "Wild Cat."

“Wild Cat’s really scratching your nerves, huh?” Vihaan grinned.

“Who’s Wild Cat?” Dadaji asked curiously.

Reyansh immediately turned to Vihaan with daggers in his eyes. Vihaan raised his hands innocently. “Just a nickname, Dadaji. For his new friend.”

“I don’t have friends,” Reyansh muttered.

“And yet,” Pari added sweetly, “she knows how to irritate you, give you nickname, and pressure points. Sounds personal to me.”

Neil laughed so hard he spilled his lemonade.

Reyansh leaned back in his chair, exasperated, hands running through his hair.

“One dinner. Just one peaceful dinner. Was that too much to ask?”

“Yes,” Vihaan said, chewing his naan. “Especially when you’re the entertainment.”

“I agree,” Dadaji said with a chuckle. “And I like this girl already. Any woman who can ruffle Reyansh’s feathers is a woman worth knowing.”

Reyansh muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "Feathers? Seriously?"

“You know what this calls for?” Pari declared.

“A family movie night—and next time, we’re inviting Wild Cat.”

“Shut up pari!” Reyansh barked, nearly knocking over his glass.

“Why?” Meera asked, amused.

“Because she’s unpredictable, dramatic, and talks more than Neil during Diwali!”

“Hey!” Neil protested. “I was quiet last Diwali!”

Dev raised his brow. “Only because you had laryngitis.”

Laughter exploded around the table again.

Meanwhile, Reyansh sank further into his chair, stabbing his sabzi like it had personally insulted him.

As the laughter died down, Rekha looked across the table with a warm smile.

“Honestly, this is nice. It’s been a while since we all had dinner together like this.”

“True,” Raghav agreed. “Even if it means watching Reyansh wrestle with his ego and sabzi at the same time.”

“Note to self,” Vihaan muttered, “next time bring popcorn.”

“You’ll need it,” Pari added. “Because I don’t think Mr. Ostrich is getting the last word anytime soon.”

Reyansh looked up, eyes narrowing. “Say it again, Pari. I dare you.”

Pari only smiled. “Okay. Ostrich.”

He groaned. “I need a new family.”

Dadaji laughed. “No you don’t. You need to thank the universe for giving you one that keeps you on your toes.”

“And off your high horse,” Neil added cheekily.

With that, laughter and teasing resumed, spoons clattered, glasses clinked, and for one night, the Oberoi Mansion wasn’t just a palace of marble and chandeliers—it was a home echoing with warmth, food, and ridiculous nicknames.
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.

.

The warmth of dinner still lingered in the air as everyone migrated to the grand living room. Plush velvet sofas, golden-hued lamps, and the faint aroma of sandalwood made the space feel like a regal lounge. Cups of cardamom chai were passed around. Laughter echoed from the walls like an old melody revisiting a familiar tune.

Reyansh leaned back into the sofa, arms stretched along the backrest, eyes half-lidded. He had survived a dinner full of teasing—but he knew too well that the Oberois didn’t call it a night without one final blow.

Dadaji cleared his throat, his voice sharp and sudden.

“Reyansh, Vihaan... ab tum dono ki shaadi ki umar ho gayi hai.”

(Reyansh, Vihaan... now it’s time for both of you to get married.)

The room fell into an expectant silence.

Reyansh blinked slowly, as if waiting for someone to say “Just kidding.” Vihaan, sitting on the adjacent armchair, almost spilled his tea.

“I mean it,” Dadaji continued, stroking his cane like a royal scepter.

“Tum dono ke liye ladkiyan dekhni shuru karta hoon.”
(I’ll start looking for girls for both of you.)

Reyansh and Vihaan exchanged a horrified glance—and in unison, they blurted out:

“NO!”

The synchrony made Rekha choke on her chai, while Pari burst into a full-bellied laugh.

Dadaji’s brows rose. “Kyun?”
(Why?)

Reyansh took a deep breath, dragging his hand down his face.

“Because I don’t want to get married. Especially not right now. Mujhe koi interest nahi hai.”
(I’m not interested.)

He threw a side-glance at Vihaan. “Please, get Vihaan married instead. Stop chasing me.”

Vihaan whipped his head towards Reyansh. “Seriously?”

Dadaji leaned forward, clearly unimpressed.

“Agar koi ladki pasand hai toh batado. Nahi toh main khud dhoondh loonga.”

(If there’s a girl you like, say it now. Otherwise, I’ll find one for you.)

Reyansh rubbed his temples, as if the mere mention of marriage gave him migraines.

“Dadaji, I’ve got too much work. I need to take the company to the top, open international branches—”

“Woh hota rahega,” Dadaji interrupted. “Par tumhare jaise ladke shaadi se bhaag nahi sakte.”

(That’ll continue. But men like you can’t run away from marriage forever.)

“Dadaji,” Vihaan finally spoke up, “Bhai’s right. There’s time for all this. I’m not ready either.”

Reyansh turned to him slowly, almost theatrically. His lips curled into a wicked smirk.

“Well, if Vihaan has someone he likes... I think we should arrange his wedding first.”

Vihaan’s eyes widened as if Reyansh had thrown him off a cliff. “TRAITOR!”

The room exploded with laughter.

Dev leaned forward, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.
“Wait, wait—Vihaan? Is this true? You like someone?”

Meera joined in, clearly intrigued. “Tell us! We’ll talk to her family immediately.”

Vihaan raised both hands.

“No! No! There’s no one. Nothing’s going on. Please give me some time. Jab kuch hoga, main khud bataunga.”
(When something happens, I’ll tell you myself.)

He turned to Reyansh, voice dripping with dramatic betrayal. “Bhai, you threw me under the bus.”

Reyansh simply stretched, shrugging like he’d just tossed away an empty file.

“You said you’re not interested. I’m helping you commit to your lie.”

Vihaan muttered something under his breath about “payback” and “revenge in silence.”

Then Pari, who had been oddly quiet, straightened in her seat with a devilish twinkle in her eyes.

“Dadaji, I know the perfect girl for Bhai.”

Reyansh’s gaze snapped to her. “Pari—”

Everyone turned to her with equal parts interest and anticipation.

Pari grinned. “The one who gave him that adorable nickname. What was it again? Oh right—Mr. Ostrich. The one who silences him like a mute button.”

Reyansh nearly dropped his cup.

“SHUT UP, Pari! NO WAY!”

His voice cracked in horror.

“I’ll marry anyone—literally anyone—but not that girl. Even if she’s the last woman left on this planet, I won’t.”

The room burst into uncontainable laughter. Vihaan clutched his stomach. Rekha had tears in his eyes again. Even Meera tried to hide her smile behind her mug.

Reyansh’s insides, however, were churning.

Why does everyone think she’s perfect? Just because she talks back? Because she doesn’t fawn over me like the others?

He scowled. I’m not marrying a woman who compares me to an oversized bird.

Pari nudged him. “Come on, Bhai. Admit it. You like her fire.”

“I like peace,” he snapped.

Dadaji cleared his throat again, now with finality.

“Bas! You both have exactly one month. Either find someone yourselves or I’ll find girls for you both.”

Reyansh leaned forward.

“Please, get Vihaan married first. One at a time, Dadaji. You’re acting like you want us married on the same mandap.”

Dadaji stood with regal authority, his cane tapping against the marble floor.

“Haan! Main chahta hoon ke tum dono ki shaadi ek hi mandap mein ho.”
(Yes! I want you both to get married on the same mandap.)

A dead silence fell.

Reyansh blinked. “Wait... you’re serious?”

“Very,” Dadaji replied, before walking off toward his room, muttering something about customized sherwanis and double-wedding discounts.

Vihaan looked at Reyansh. “This... this is your fault.”

“You betrayed me first,” Reyansh replied calmly, standing.

Their eyes met—silent, deadly understanding passed between them.

We’re screwed.

One by one, everyone filtered out of the room, still laughing, still teasing.

Left alone in the stillness, Reyansh and Vihaan exhaled simultaneously.

“Bhai,” Vihaan said, “what are we gonna do?”

Reyansh started walking away, tossing one last smirk over his shoulder.

“Sleep. That’s what I’m doing.”

And with a mutual sense of impending doom, the Oberoi brothers retreated to their rooms—silently praying that Dadaji’s “one month” never came to an end.

___