At the very heart of Singapore, an extraordinary award ceremony was unfolding—a grand event that had drawn the most influential business leaders from every corner of Asia. This was not just any gathering; it was the largest and most prestigious celebration of business excellence on the continent. Throughout the evening, numerous awards were to be presented across various categories, honoring innovation, leadership, and success in the world of commerce. Yet, amid all the accolades, the two awards that truly captured everyone's attention were the coveted titles of 'Businessman of the Year' and 'Businesswoman of the Year.'
The atmosphere was charged with anticipation, especially among the media, who were eager to witness the arrival of the event's most awaited guests—two towering figures in the business world. First was Aksh Singhania, the visionary CEO of AK Corporations, Asia's most powerful and influential business empire. His reputation for sharp strategy and unmatched success had made his name synonymous with corporate dominance.
Equally commanding was Arini Rajvansh, the sole woman CEO in the region whose name alone sent waves of fear through the hearts of rival tycoons. Known for her fierce determination and unyielding leadership, Arini had shattered glass ceilings and redefined what it meant to lead with strength and grace in a male-dominated industry. Her presence at the event was not just a symbol of achievement but a challenge to every competitor in the room.
The clock struck 8 PM, marking the official start of the ceremony. Whispers rippled through the crowd, as many began to wonder if this year the two most formidable business sharks in Asia had chosen to skip the event altogether.
Just as the host was about to announce the nominees for the first award, a sudden commotion erupted. The paparazzi and media rushed toward the entrance as a sleek black Rolls Royce pulled up in front of the red carpet. Cameras flashed wildly as both rear doors of the car swung open simultaneously. The crowd and photographers exchanged puzzled glances—if only one person was to step out, why had both doors been opened at once?
Just then, from the right side of the sleek black Rolls Royce, Arini Rajvansh stepped out with an air of graceful confidence. Her presence was commanding yet composed, every movement radiating the power she held as one of Asia's most formidable business leaders. Simultaneously, from the left side of the car, Aksh Singhania emerged with calm authority, his demeanor reflecting years of experience and dominance in the corporate world.
The frenzy of camera flashes exploded around them, illuminating the scene with relentless bursts of light, capturing every detail of their poised arrival. For a fleeting moment, their eyes met—two rivals bound by respect and unspoken understanding. With only a slight, almost imperceptible nod, they silently acknowledged each other's presence before turning their attention to the grand entrance of the auditorium.
As they began to walk side by side toward the heavy doors, the entire crowd inside the venue was utterly captivated. Conversations fell silent, and every gaze was locked firmly on the two titans. It was a rare and powerful moment—two of Asia's most successful and influential business figures arriving together, commanding the room not just with their reputations, but with the sheer force of their presence.
(late bhi aaye hai kafi jyada )
As soon as I stepped into the auditorium, I could practically feel every pair of eyes drilling into me—and that creature walking right next to me wasn't helping. But I kept my gaze locked on the flashing cameras, the VVIP section, and, of course, the stage. No distractions.
I sank into my seat in the VVIP section—uncomfortably close to the stage, just how I like it. No sooner had I settled into the plush sofa than the host started rattling off the awards and nominees.
I let out a long, quiet sigh and glanced sideways. There he was—Mr. Singhania—completely absorbed in his phone like the world wasn't burning around him. Honestly, after ruining my entire mood, how can someone be so calm? Not that I'm shocked. That's classic him: Mr. Jerk Singhania
Flashback — 5 hours earlier
My private jet had just touched down at Singapore Airport, and I knew I had to move fast. I needed to reach the hotel, get ready, and make it to the event on time—or risk missing the whole thing.
I slid into the waiting cab and headed straight to the hotel. After checking in, I made my way to my suite. Everything was already arranged—the makeup team was waiting, and my outfit was ready to go. I settled into the chair, bracing myself for the usual tedious routine.
Thirty long minutes later, my makeup was flawless, my hair perfectly styled, and the team quietly left the room. I stepped into the closet, changed into the carefully chosen dress, then emerged to check myself in the mirror. As always, I was slaying—ready to take on the night.
I glanced at my phone—5:50 PM. Everything was in place, and I was ready to leave for the ceremony. Knowing the notorious Singapore traffic, I estimated it would take nearly an hour to reach the venue. Arriving by 7 PM was ideal—just enough time to settle in before the event began.
Without wasting a moment, I called the head of the event management team and gave them my hotel address. They promised to send a vehicle immediately. Feeling somewhat relieved, I settled back into the quiet of my suite, opening my laptop to sift through emails and messages, trying to stay productive while waiting.
About ten minutes later, my phone buzzed with a call—my car had arrived. I locked my suite, took a deep breath, and made my way downstairs. The lobby was bustling, but I barely noticed as I slipped into the sleek black vehicle waiting just outside.
I nodded at the driver, signaling him to get going. Almost immediately, the familiar frustration of bumper-to-bumper traffic set in. Cars crawled forward inch by inch, and I resigned myself to the slow pace, pulling out my phone again to catch up on messages.
Suddenly, a sharp, jarring crash shook the car violently, throwing me off balance. My head snapped up from the screen, eyes locking on the driver's tense expression. Someone had slammed into the back of our vehicle.
Both the driver and I hurried out to inspect the damage. A deep, ugly dent marred the rear bumper, and the number plate dangled loosely, cracked and broken. My mind raced—just great, why now? I silently cursed my luck. Then I shifted my gaze to the offending car. Its headlight was completely shattered, glass strewn across the road, making it clear the impact had been serious.
The air around us thickened with tension, and I could already feel the impatience bubbling beneath the surface—this delay could cost me precious time. But first, I had to deal with the aftermath..
I stepped forward and approached the other car's passenger side. I knocked sharply on the window. A soft click sounded as the door unlocked, and I moved aside just in time to see who was inside. The moment my eyes met his, my anger flared uncontrollably.
It was none other than Mr. Singhania. He stepped out of the car, calm and unbothered, followed by his driver. I should have known—who else could be behind this mess, deliberately trying to ruin my evening? I thought bitterly. But then, a sudden realization hit me—he was headed to the same event. So, why was I letting this ruin me so much?
The drivers quickly called the event management to report the accident. Soon, the event manager's voice came through on the phone:
"We deeply apologize for the inconvenience, Sir and Ma'am. Unfortunately, all other vehicles are currently occupied. We can only send one car for now. You can either share this ride or wait until 11 PM for another vehicle."
Aksh and I immediately spoke in unison, "What? We can't possibly share the same vehicle."
We exchanged a sharp look, unspoken words passing between us, before the manager responded, "I understand, Sir and Ma'am, but please cooperate just this once. We promise to send the best car available, but there simply aren't two drivers free right now."
We hesitated, glancing at each other, both realizing there was no other option. Reluctantly, we agreed.
An hour passed, and finally, the car arrived at the pickup point. But now, the great Aksh Singhania was nowhere to be seen. Of course. The car's here, the driver's here, I'm here—but the all-important missing passenger? Gone.
I leaned against the car door, arms crossed, completely irritated. He can disappear into thin air for all I care. Or walk straight into the sea. But why waste my time? The least he could've done was send a message, or I don't know—not vanish like a magician at a kids' birthday party.
I slid into the backseat and let out a long sigh. Pulling out my phone, I scrolled through my blocked contacts—his number was, unsurprisingly, right at the top. I rolled my eyes, unblocked it, and hesitated for half a second before tapping "call."
He won't pick up, I told myself. He's probably blocked me too. But then—surprise, surprise—the phone started ringing. Not blocked.
Just as I was about to hang up, his voice came through, calm as ever.
"If you don't show up within five minutes," I snapped, "I'll assume you're dead and leave for the award function alone."
"Okay," he replied, completely unfazed.
I ended the call without another word, fuming in silence.
Exactly five minutes later—of course, exactly—he showed up and slid into the seat right beside me like nothing had happened. Not a word, not a glance.
The driver started the engine, and we pulled into the traffic, headed toward the ceremony. Side by side. Silent. Irritated. Professional. Barely.
Flashback ends.
The host's voice rang out through the grand auditorium, her excitement echoing off the walls.
"So now, let's begin with the most awaited awards of the evening—and their nominees..."
Spotlights roamed across the glittering audience as she continued with a flourish.
"The nominees for the Businessman of the Year award are... Mr. Aksh Singhania, Mr. Arav Rathore, Mr. Somail Batra, Mr. Vyan Smith, Mr. Ryane Hade, and Mr. Yuv Arora."
There was a round of polite applause, cameras flashing as the names were read out one by one.
"And the winner of this prestigious category is..." She paused dramatically, as if the whole room didn't already know.
"...None other than Mr. Aksh Singhania! Mr. Singhania, please join us on stage."
Cue the standing ovation. The thunderous applause. The overly dramatic camera zooms. And there he was—cool, calm, composed—rising from his seat like he hadn't just nearly made me commit murder in traffic an hour ago.
I leaned back into the plush VVIP sofa, expression unreadable.
Of course he won. Again. For the forth year in a row. Groundbreaking. How unpredictable.
There wasn't even an ounce of surprise in the room. Just admiration. Respect. And for me? A mild, slightly bitter ugh wrapped in forced claps.
As the host began announcing the nominees, I already knew what was coming. This wasn't overconfidence—it was self-awareness. Years of relentless hard work, consistent results, and a reputation that didn't leave room for surprises. I was winning tonight, again. Simple.
So when she finally said, "Mr. Aksh Singhania," I smirked—not for the cameras, but for myself. It was the kind of smirk you earn. A quiet, sharp reminder of victory.
I stood, buttoned my blazer with ease, and walked toward the stage, the applause only half as loud as the satisfaction in my chest. After accepting the award, I thanked the host, delivered a short, composed speech, and made my way back to my seat.
As I sat down, I turned slightly to look at her—Arini Rajvansh. No words, just a silent challenge. If she didn't win this year, our little game of who's better ends with me. Finally.
Her smirk answered before she did. It practically screamed, "You wait and watch."
I rolled my eyes internally, ignored it, and turned my attention back to my phone—pretending she wasn't living rent-free in my head, like she always did in moments like this.
Then, the host continued, her voice once again filling the auditorium.
"Now, the nominees for the Businesswoman of the Year award are... Ms. Arini Rajvansh, Mrs. Nica Suzian, Ms. Jenifer Mariane, Ms. Riantha Richards, Ms. Esme Brown, Mrs. Vina Khurana, and Ms. Amna Mittal."
A slow clap rolled across the room.
Then came the moment.
"And the winner of this category is... any guesses? Well, it's none other than Ms. Arini Rajvansh! Please come to the stage, Ms. Rajvansh!"
I glanced over at her. She didn't look at me—she smirked at me. That signature smirk. And then stood up gracefully, making her way toward the stage like the crown was already hers.
And in that smirk, I could hear it loud and clear:
"I won't let you win this easily, you mf."
I leaned back in my seat.
I returned to my seat, award in hand, heels clicking with confidence. As I sat down, I turned to look at Mr. Jerk Singhania. Of course, he was already watching. I gave him a slow, deliberate smirk—the kind that said, "Not this year, not ever."
Sure, we both won—again—but at least I didn't lose. And that, in itself, is a win. He should know by now: it's never going to be easy to defeat me. Not in this lifetime.
Just as I settled into my seat, the host smiled in my direction.
"Ms. Rajvansh, before we move to celebrations, may we request a few words from you?"
I stood up, adjusted the mic, and kept it simple—but intentional.
"Thank you for this honor. Every challenge I've faced has shaped the businesswoman I am today. I don't chase trophies—I chase progress, impact, and legacy. And this"—I held up the award slightly—"is just a reminder that I'm on the right path. Thank you."
Applause followed, respectful and loud. I returned to my seat without another word.
The award ceremony came to a close soon after, giving way to casual celebration. Guests began making their way to the first floor, where a grand display of famous dishes and delicacies from all over Asia awaited.
This auditorium had always been grand—three floors of carefully designed luxury.
The ground floor, used tonight for the main event.
The first floor, versatile and open, currently transformed into a cultural food exhibit.
The second floor housed a huge hall, where, as always, the annual couple's dance would be held.
And the third floor? Strictly for staff and management—not that I had any intention of going there.
But right now? I needed food, a little quiet, and preferably, no more run-ins with Mr. "I-think-I'm-unstoppable" Singhania.
Everyone started to grab drinks—some reaching for cocktails, others pouring themselves soft drinks or water. A few people were filling their stomachs with the appetizers and snacks laid out on the tables, while engaging in animated conversations with their friends or acquaintances they’d spotted around the hall. The room buzzed with laughter, chatter, and the clinking of glasses, creating the perfect backdrop for post-ceremony celebrations.
I found myself standing amidst a small group of friends—people I’d met during my early days here, when everything felt overwhelming and uncertain. I felt incredibly lucky that they were still around, supporting me as we all grew together through ups and downs. Honestly, if I hadn’t crossed paths with these wonderful people, I think I would have almost given up on friendships entirely. The pain of past betrayals and broken trust had made me wary, but these friends had quietly proven to be different—they were genuine and dependable.
One of them was Amna, hands down the most supportive friend I’ve ever had. Even though I’m usually reserved about sharing my thoughts and feelings—mainly because of past trust issues—I trusted Amna and the others enough to open up a little. And they had never once taken advantage of that trust or made me regret it.
I was lost in my own thoughts when Amna’s cheerful voice brought me back to the moment. “Congrats, Arini! You really deserved that award this time,” she said warmly. “But you know, this year’s competition was so close. I’m not planning to ease up on you anytime soon. You better be ready for more challenges, girl.”
Her words made me smile. “Thanks, Amna. And yeah, I’m always ready for whatever comes my way. Challenges keep me going.”
Another friend from the group, grinning widely, added, “But seriously, Arini, we all have to admit—you’re unbelievable! Winning this award three years in a row is no small feat.”
I shrugged modestly. “It’s mostly self-confidence and hard work. And honestly, you all are giving me too much credit—some of you have more awards than me. Don’t make me feel like a superstar here.” I laughed softly.
Amna chuckled and teased, “Par main wala toh harr baar tu hi lekar jaati hai.” (But you always take home the main award every time.)
I just smiled and shrugged again, feeling a bit bashful but happy. They resumed their lively conversation, filling the space around me with warmth and camaraderie.
Suddenly, the host’s voice boomed over the microphone, grabbing everyone’s attention. “Ladies and gentlemen, any function without a dance is just boring! And this, my friends, is Asia’s biggest award ceremony. So how can we let it end without a dance? Get ready to hit the floor, everyone!”
Amna’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Finally! I’ve been waiting for this part all evening. And guess what? I heard there’s going to be a surprise gift for the best dance couple this time. How cool is that?”
I let out an exaggerated sigh, feeling my enthusiasm wane. “Honestly, I’m not a fan of this part. Why do we always have to dance and listen to loud music, especially with a partner? For people like me who don’t enjoy dancing, it feels like a forced social nightmare. Why can’t they just let us skip this part?”
She laughed and shook her head. “Come on, take a chill pill, dude. You just got the biggest award of the night. You should celebrate and enjoy it. Being so uninterested is just not fair to yourself.”
I nodded nonchalantly
I was on a call with my family while they were watching the award function live on TV. The moment my name was announced as the winner, I could hear their excited voices cheering through the phone. They couldn’t wait to congratulate me, their pride and happiness infectious even over the distance. It felt good—knowing they were sharing this moment with me.
After the call ended, I made my way back to the main area where everyone had gathered. The room was buzzing with energy, people mingling and celebrating. Just then, I caught the host’s voice carrying over the crowd as she made an announcement. Curious, I weaved my way toward a group of familiar faces, searching for someone who might know what was coming next.
I found Arav, the most energetic and outspoken guy I knew, and asked him, “Arav, what did the host just say?”
With a grin, he replied, “She said to get ready for the dance. Apparently, any function is boring without a dance performance.”
I muttered under my breath, “Great. Here comes the most ridiculous part of the whole function.”
Arav nudged me playfully and said, “Bro, stop mumbling to yourself. Now you need to find a partner because you’re definitely not good enough to dance solo.”
I rolled my eyes and muttered again, “Yeah, this is actually the most annoying and pointless part of the evening.”
I scanned the crowd, looking around for anyone who might be looking for a dance partner. The first person my eyes landed on was none other than Arini. Two things were instantly clear: one, she didn’t have a partner either, and two—I was determined not to be that partner. Anyone else but her.
I found myself zoning out, staring at her without meaning to. My mind was so caught up in its own chaos that I didn’t even realize I was openly staring until Arav’s voice snapped me back. “Bro, why are you staring at her like that? Go talk to her already. Trust me, you look like a total creep.”
I shook off the daze and looked again. Arini was staring right back at me—but with pure disgust written all over her face. Whether she knew I was watching or not, her expression spoke louder than any words ever could.
Before I could even say a word, she walked over and said bluntly, “Look, I know you don’t have a dance partner and you’re not good enough to dance alone... so let’s dance together. Just this once.”
I barely had time to think before my mouth blurted out, “Yeah, sure.”
What? No, no, no! What the hell did I just do? Oh God, Aksh, where was your brain? You literally promised yourself never to make her your dance partner. First you’re caught staring, and now you’ve agreed like you were dying to dance with her.
Or maybe you were . Shut up, you annoying subconscious voice.
Trying to save face, I said, “Wait, don’t assume I’m dying to dance with you or anything. It’s just... I figured, who else would want to dance with you? So maybe I shouldn’t let my only enemy embarrass herself out there.”
(A/N: Bhai sahab, raita faila hua hai yeh toh, aur kuch nahi. 😂)
She smirked and replied, “Oh, yeah, I figured that out the moment you were standing over there, doing your deep analysis—trying to figure out if I had a dance partner or not. I know how thoughtful you are, Mr. Singhania.”
I laughed nervously.
'Or kar le behas usse,' my subconscious mocked me.
(Arini 1 | Aksh 0 🤭)
The music began to play, and the crowd eagerly paired off, finding partners and moving toward the dance floor. The energy was electric, but not everyone was confident. Some couples stumbled over each other’s feet, awkwardly trying to keep their balance, while others laughed off their missteps.
Among the dancers, two couples stood out. Arav and Amna moved with effortless coordination, their steps flowing seamlessly in time with the music. Nearby, Arini and Aksh—despite their earlier reluctance—matched the rhythm surprisingly well, their movements almost synchronized as they navigated the beat together.
As the song continued, the less confident pairs gradually retreated to the sidelines, leaving only a few dancers on the floor. The spotlight illuminated the remaining couples, drawing all eyes toward them. The room’s lively chatter softened, replaced by a focused anticipation as the spotlight highlighted the graceful figures moving in time with the softened melody.
As the music started and we stepped onto the dance floor, I honestly thought we were going to be out of the competition as soon as the first beat dropped. I was half-expecting us to stumble or mess up right away. But as the song progressed and we moved into the middle of our performance, I glanced around—and to my surprise, only a handful of people were still dancing. Most had already stepped aside, exhausted or embarrassed.
And to be honest, Mr. Singhania was not as terrible at dancing as I had imagined. In fact, he was holding his own quite well. I stole a quick look at him .
I cleared my throat and said, “Be more focused. We have to be the best out here.”
He shot me a teasing smile and replied, “Pura focus toh aap parr hi hai, Ms. Rajvansh.”
(The whole focus is on you, Ms. Rajvansh.)
(Arini 1 | Aksh 1 🤭)
I rolled my eyes . We kept moving in time with the music, each step bringing us closer to the song’s end.
When the final part of the song began, only two couples remained on the floor: us, and Arav and Amna. I was just thinking about what move to finish with when suddenly Aksh pulled me close. Before I could react, he lifted me effortlessly by my waist and spun me around. Instinctively, I grabbed his neck to steady myself. He spun me once more, then gently placed me back down, guiding me into a twirl.
Without missing a beat, he pulled me in instantly, and I landed softly in his arms.
Our eyes locked, and in that moment, a silent internal argument sparked between his mesmerizing greenish-blue eyes and my deep dark brown ones. It was like a wordless conversation, both of us trying to understand the meaning behind the moves he just pulled off—graceful, confident, and unexpectedly intimate.
That quiet battle ended abruptly when the sound of loud applause broke the tension.
I straightened up and nodded subtly, feeling his gaze still fixed on me.
The host’s voice rang out, clear and enthusiastic: “Fabulous performance, everyone! But no doubt, Mr. Singhania and Ms. Rajvansh stole the limelight tonight. They were just perfect.”
I smiled softly, though I wasn’t even that interested in dancing or the competition to begin with.
'But… you actually enjoyed it'. Shut up, you non-existent subconscious mind.
I moved toward Amna and Arav, who were standing nearby, and soon enough, Aksh joined us.
Amna teased, “Arini, you ate it, girl!”
I simply nodded .
Arav turned to Aksh and said, “Tu toh kah raha tha ye sab nonsense hai, par mujhe to tera dance dekh karke kuch aur hi laga.”
(Bro, you were saying this dance stuff was nonsense, but after seeing you dance, it felt completely different.)
Aksh shot Arav a glare and replied, “Aren’t you feeling a little too much these days, Arav?”
Arav laughed, “Just joking, bro. Chill.”
After the award function came to an end, the grand hall slowly began to empty, laughter and music fading into the background. While most people stayed back to continue socializing, Arini had other plans. She quietly made her way out, having already instructed her personal assistant, Bhavya Chandel, to prepare her private jet. Her return to Mumbai was scheduled immediately after the event, and everything had been planned down to the last detail.
Meanwhile, Aksh had chosen a different path. Instead of rushing back, he headed to his hotel room. He had taken two days off from work and was in no hurry to leave Singapore. With time on his side, he intended to explore the city a little—its streets, its food, and maybe even its quiet corners.
At the airport, Arini arrived with her usual poise. Bhavya was already waiting near the private hangar, holding her boss’s travel bag, which she had picked up from the hotel as instructed.
“Ma’am,” Bhavya said as Arini approached, “the jet is ready for takeoff. I’ve brought all your bags from the hotel. We’re all set to return to Mumbai.”
Arini gave a small nod. “Okay.”
Without wasting any time, she stepped inside the jet, the cool air and familiar luxury of the cabin offering a quiet contrast to the crowd and chaos of the award function. She sank into her seat, unbuttoned her blazer, and immediately opened her laptop, diving into her unread emails as if the evening’s events were already behind her.
Bhavya took the seat opposite her, staying quiet, knowing well that Arini preferred silence when she was working. The hum of the jet preparing for takeoff filled the cabin, but inside, everything was calm and composed—just the way Arini liked it.
AFTER 4 HOURS ~
The flight touched down in Mumbai under a blanket of silence. Arini glanced at her watch—2:00 AM. Outside the jet's window, the city was draped in darkness, interrupted only by the soft glow of streetlights, distant traffic signals, and flickering signboards lining the roads. The city that never truly sleeps was resting just enough to feel eerily calm.
As the jet door opened, Arini stepped out onto the tarmac, greeted by the faint breeze of the humid night air. In front of her, parked precisely where it always was, stood her sleek black BMW, gleaming under the artificial lighting of the private hangar.
Three tall, muscular security guards—each well over six feet—stood in formation before the car, alert and expressionless, dressed in black suits. Their presence was quiet but commanding.
Bhavya walked ahead, approaching the guards with a familiar nod. One of them broke formation, retrieved a second vehicle parked nearby, and waited for Bhavya and the remaining guards to board. It was a well-rehearsed routine—clean, efficient, silent.
Arini, without exchanging a word, slid into the back seat of her BMW. The driver, already in position, started the engine, and the car pulled away from the runway smoothly, heading toward her home.
Exactly eighteen minutes later, her BMW turned through the grand wrought-iron gates of RAJVANSH ESTATE, the motion sensors lighting up the entrance as the vehicle approached. The vast property stood silent, majestic in the night, its structure illuminated only by subtle perimeter lights.
The second vehicle, carrying Bhavya and the guards, came to a halt just outside the estate. The moment Arini’s car disappeared beyond the main entrance, the support car turned around and quietly drove off into the night.
The estate gates closed behind them with a soft metallic hum, sealing the world outside
As my car rolled through the towering gates of Rajvansh Estate, the silence of the night embraced me like an old friend. The vast, dimly lit driveway led me to the familiar parking area, where our fleet of luxury cars stood side by side—shining like polished obsidian under the soft overhead lights. I parked my BMW in its usual spot, the engine’s hum fading into stillness.
I stepped out, heels clicking softly against the stone floor, and walked up to the front entrance. The mansion loomed ahead—grand, silent, yet somehow comforting. Without hesitation, I typed the access code into the digital panel beside the door. Of course, I knew the password. I was the one who had set it.
As the door unlocked with a quiet beep, I pushed it open and stepped inside. The soft scent of sandalwood and old books hung in the air. Dim lights cast gentle shadows on the marble floor. Everything was calm.
That’s when I noticed her—Varika—fast asleep at the dining table, her head resting uncomfortably on top of an open Anatomy book, a half-eaten protein bar beside her. I sighed, walked over, and gently shook her shoulder once. No reaction. Twice. Still nothing. I tried a third time—she was dead to the world.
A slow smirk formed on my lips. Time for Plan B.
I leaned close to her ear and said, just loud enough to be alarming, “Mumma took all your bank cards and snatched your cars and driving licenseeeeee!”
She jolted awake like she'd been electrocuted. “NOOOOO! I DIDN’T BUMP INTO ANYONE!” she screamed, eyes wide in panic.
I burst out laughing, holding my stomach. Her disoriented face scanned the room until her eyes met mine. Her expression turned from panic to pure annoyance.
“Kyaaa yaaar diii!” she groaned, rubbing her eyes. “Vaise hi neend poori nahi hoti... upar se aap pareshan kar rahe ho!”
(What’s with you, Dii? I’m already not getting enough sleep, and on top of that, you’re bothering me.)
Still laughing, I replied, “Then why are you sleeping on your Anatomy book? That too on the dining table? We live in a literal mansion—use your room.”
She gave me a death stare, muttered something unintelligible under her breath, grabbed her book, and stomped off upstairs.
Once she disappeared, I exhaled slowly and finally allowed the silence to wrap around me again.
I set down my handbag and unzipped the side compartment. Carefully, I pulled out the award I’d just won in Singapore—the weight of it cold and familiar in my hands. A quiet pride bubbled in my chest, but it was layered with something more. A memory. A promise. A ritual.
I stepped into the elevator and pressed B2—Basement Level 2. The doors closed, sealing me away from the rest of the mansion. The descent was smooth, almost too quiet. When the doors opened again, I walked straight ahead, toward a reinforced door at the far end of the hallway.
As I opened the door, a sharp gunshot rang out from inside. But I didn’t flinch. The sound wasn’t new. It was expected.
There, standing near the training console with a sniper in hand, was the man I had been waiting for—Shikhar Rajvansh. My Chachu . My mentor. My quiet strength.
He removed his headset and turned when he saw me. I didn’t speak at first. I simply walked toward him, went down on one knee, and gently placed the award at his feet.
“This completely belongs to you,” I said, my voice steady. “If you hadn’t been there, there wouldn’t even be an Arini Rajvansh.”
He smiled faintly and pulled me up to my feet. Picking up the award, he placed a firm hand on my head.
“This only belongs to you,” he replied, his voice calm but resolute. “If you hadn’t fought every single day and pushed yourself the way you do, this wouldn’t be in your hands.”
Then he looked at me with narrowed eyes. “I came back from Amritsar at 1 AM. How did you even know I was back? And more importantly—how did you know I’d be here, in the basement?”
I smirked. “Chachu, aapko kya lagta hai... aapki flight tickets kaun book karta hai? And since childhood, every time I got an award, you trained me on the same day. Has it ever happened that your niece won something big and didn’t get her next lesson from you?”
He chuckled, nodding slowly. “No... it’s never happened. And it never will. So—shall we begin today’s training?”
I nodded eagerly. “Yes. But this time, teach me how to perfectly aim with a sniper. You’ve taught me everything else. It’s time.”
“Alright,” he said, gesturing toward the weapon racks. “Go get it. Load it. Let’s begin.”
I walked toward the weapon chamber, eyes scanning the array of firearms. Pistols, revolvers, automatics, but right there—placed with a reverence of its own—was the Enfield L39A1 sniper. I reached for it with both hands, careful and respectful. The metal was cold, powerful. I loaded the magazine, attached the scope, and tested its weight.
Then I returned to the practice area, placed the sniper on the bench, and pulled on a headset to protect my ears from the echoing shots.
The night wasn’t over yet.
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BLURB~
ARINI'S POV
People and staff members were gathered there and someone was yelling at a employee. I went near them and few glass pieces were also scattered at ground and that yelling man shouted while looking at me "GO CALL THE CEO OF THIS COMPANY , I WANT TO MEET THE CEO ".
I said in my cold tone "The CEO is infront of you ". He looked around and again yelled "where the hell is CEO "
"I AM THE CEO OF THIS COMPANY " I said looking straight into his eyes as if I will take his soul out right now right here .
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5000+ words
How was the chapter ? and this was combined of chapter 1 and 2 from wattpad story .
Any favorite scene 👀 ?
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