Life isn't always gentle with love.
Sometimes it tests us in the hardest ways — through misunderstandings, distance, jealousy, loneliness, anger, and moments where everything feels like it's falling apart. There are days when you question everything, when the world feels heavy, and when your hearts ache more than they smile.
But love that doesn't give up... becomes something powerful.
When two people choose to hold on, even when it's difficult... life slowly begins to change. The same challenges that once tried to break you start shaping you into something stronger. You learn patience, you learn trust, and you learn how deeply you can care for someone. You understand that love isn't just about the happy moments — it's about standing beside each other when storms come, when tears fall, and when silence feels louder than words.
Then, after every test, every fight, every painful moment — you find peace in each other again. You grow together. You heal together. You smile harder, laugh louder, and love deeper than before. Because love that survives pain becomes unforgettable. It becomes a place of comfort, strength, and endless warmth.
In the end, true love isn't about being perfect...
It's about never giving up on each other.
It's about choosing one another, again and again, no matter how hard life tries to pull you apart.
And when you do that, life doesn't just test you — it rewards you with a bond that lasts forever.
- Pooja Pawar
Chapter One: A Deal
Sachi was running. Her heels clicked violently against the pavement, her breath burning in her chest. Her long black hair—was flying loose behind her. Sweat glistened on her forehead, her pastel pink top, black flare pant.
She wasn't the kind of woman people saw running on the streets like this.
Twenty-six, calm, composed, always perfect in meetings.
But right now?
Her lips trembling, her heartbeat louder than the traffic around her.
I won't let this go this time.
Even if I sound stupid.
She kept repeating it like a prayer, like a battle cry.
Her legs finally slowed when she reached a tall handsome man, In his black joggers and black T-shirt, hair messy. Lean, sharp-featured, younger—but someone who carried an effortless charm that made hearts trip without warning.
Including hers.
Sachi stumbled to a stop in front of him, panting hard, clutching her knees for a second before she forced herself upright.
"Sachi?" he frowned. "Why are you back again? Is someone chasing you?"
She shook her head, still catching her breath.
"I— I need to tell you something."
He blinked, confused. "What?"
Her chest rose and fell rapidly. Her voice trembled.
"I'm in love with you."
Silence.
Pure silence.
He froze, the casual, playful expression on his face vanished.
Then—
"Sachi... no."
Her stomach dropped.
"No?" she whispered.
"SIX MONTHS AGO."
The warm hum of clinking cutlery and soft chatter filled the upscale restaurant, the faint scent of roasted coffee mingling with polished oak and linen. Sachi sat at a corner table, the sleeves of her brown-and-white checked blazer rolled effortlessly to her elbows, paired with sleek black formal flare pants. Her hair, loose around her shoulders, shimmered under the subtle glow of the pendant lights.
She lifted her coffee cup, letting the warmth seep through her fingers, and exhaled slowly before setting it down.
Across the table, Mr. Verma, the client she had been cautiously navigating for weeks, looked impatient. The crease between his brows deepened as he tapped his fingers against the table.
"I don't understand, Sachi," he said, his tone edged with frustration. "Your team sent over a completely different creative from what we discussed. This is not what we agreed on."
Sachi gave a small, calm smile, leaning slightly forward. "I completely understand your frustration, Mr. Verma. Honestly, there was a miscommunication on our side—my colleagues handling this project mistakenly sent an alternative version. But I've reviewed it carefully, and I want to make sure we get exactly what you envisioned."
He raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Mistakes like this cost us time, Sachi. Time is money."
"Absolutely," Sachi replied, her voice steady and confident. "And that's why I took the liberty of preparing a revised proposal tailored to your original vision. In fact, I've noted a few enhancements that could make the campaign even more impactful for your target audience. If you allow me, I can walk you through them now."
Mr. Verma leaned back slightly, curious despite himself.
Sachi pulled out her tablet and swiped to the first slide. "Here's the creative concept you initially suggested. I kept the core idea intact but refined the visuals and messaging so it resonates more with your key demographic. And here," she swiped again, "is a variant that uses the same framework but incorporates current market trends we've observed. The goal is to ensure higher engagement without deviating from your brand essence."
He studied the tablet in silence, his expression softening.
"You see, Mr. Verma," Sachi continued, "even with the initial hiccup, this adjustment actually positions your campaign stronger than before. My team and I are fully committed to executing it flawlessly from here on."
Finally, he gave a slow nod. "I have to admit, Sachi... you've handled this better than I expected. Your approach is professional, and I can see that you understand our priorities. Let's move forward with this proposal."
A subtle, triumphant smile tugged at Sachi's lips. She lifted her coffee again and murmured softly, "Thank you, Mr. Verma. I assure you, the rest of this project will run smoothly."
Mr. Verma stood up, straightening his blazer and picking up his laptop bag from beside the chair. He gave Sachi a measured look.
"Since I've agreed to proceed with this proposal," he said, "it doesn't mean I've agreed to work with you further. Now, everything depends on how the market responds. So... all the best."
Sachi smiled, her confidence steady and quiet. "Sure, sir," she replied.
He gave a small nod and began walking toward the restaurant exit.
Sachi exhaled slowly, taking a deep sip of her coffee. I hope we win this time too, she thought.
Her phone buzzed inside her sling bag. Reaching in, she fumbled slightly before retrieving her AirPods, slipping one in, and accepting the call. Instantly, Megha's voice came through, loud and unmistakable.
"Sachi! How was the meeting?" As Megha's energetic tone filled her ear, Sachi slid her tablet back into its pouch, grabbed her phone, and slung her bag over her shoulder.
Holding her tablet carefully in her hand, Sachi smiled faintly as she walked toward the restaurant exit, "It went well. He was impressed with the proposal," but...
There was a pause on the line, then Megha's voice came through, tinged with curiosity but laced with concern. "But... what?? If this works well, then only he'll continue to work with us."
Megha's tone suddenly shifted, becoming whiny and dramatic. "I'm done... I'm done, Sachi. Maybe I should draft my resignation. Our HOD will definitely fire me..."
Sachi held back a smile and replied calmly, "Hold up, Megha. Don't jump to conclusions. Let's hope for the best first."
There was a brief silence, then Sachi added, "I'll be at the office in 20 minutes. See you there."
"Okay..." Megha muttered, still a little flustered.
Sachi hung up, slipped the AirPod out, and tucked it back into her bag. She stepped onto the curb and started looking for a taxi. After a few minutes and several passing cars, finally, one stopped. She slid into the back seat, the city buzzing around her as the taxi made its way toward Magnus Tower.
Magnus Tower loomed ahead, sleek and modern, one of Mumbai's iconic business addresses. Inside, the marketing team's half floor was a hive of activity. Cubicles lined the space, each personalized in small ways—plants, mugs, photos—but the tension in the air made it feel less like an office and more like a battlefield.
Megha sat at her desk, staring at her laptop with wide eyes. "I'm totally screwed," she muttered under her breath. Her hair was tied in a messy ponytail, and her oversized sweater hung loosely, reflecting her frazzled mood.
Neha, their intern, timid and petite, approached her cautiously. Her long hair was neatly tied back, and she clutched her pen and diary tightly, as if it were a lifeline. "Ma'am... um... she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Around them, other employees whispered and exchanged worried glances, all speculating about the same looming issue.
Megha's desk felt smaller by the second as SM (Subramaniyam Malgudi), their HOD—a man in his forties, sharp and imposing—appeared at her cubicle. His brow was furrow as he leaned slightly forward.
"What's the update on Verma ji?" he demanded.
Megha swallowed nervously. "Sachi is handling it, sir," she replied cautiously.
SM's eyes narrowed. "What? Now come with me. Vice President wants to meet us—right now."
Megha's stomach sank. She felt trapped, heart pounding, her eyes flicking toward the elevator—hoping, just hoping, that Sachi would walk in and save her.
She followed SM down the corridor and reached the VP's cabin. Taking a deep breath, she knocked gently.
"Come in," a firm voice called.
Inside, SM and Megha stepped through the door. The Vice President of Kindle Creative 'Sushant', one of the departments of Magnus Group, seated behind a sleek mahogany desk. Young, sharp, and undeniably handsome at 28, he exuded authority, his reputation for a short temper preceding him.
Megha knew it all too well—she had faced him two years earlier. His tie was slightly loosen, and the sleeves of his crisp white shirt rolled up, giving him a look of controlled intensity.
"From all the clients, why was the wrong proposal sent to Mr. Verma?" his voice cut through the room, high-pitched and demanding. "Do you even realize the kind of loss we could face if we lose such a high-profile client, Miss Megha? Answer me!"
"And also," he continued, leaning forward slightly, "you need to handle Mr. Verma's meeting personally. What are you even doing here?"
Megha opened her mouth, but no words came. Panic clung to her like a heavy cloak.
Then, a soft knock echoed from the door. It opened, and Sachi stepped inside, calm and composed. Her presence immediately shifted the energy in the room.Sachi's first interaction with Sushant, and she exudes a calm confidence that immediately shifts the energy in the room. She explains the entire meeting with Mr. Verma—how she handled the client personally, and the adjustments she proposes.
Sushant listens intently, his sharp gaze softening as she speaks. By the time she finishes, he is noticeably calmer. "We'll know the result in two weeks," she concludes.
Megha stares at Sachi, her mind awash with admiration. Sachi... a real-life angel, she thinks silently. Across the room, SM who witnesses the interaction—shares the same sentiment in his mind, equally impressed.
Sushant nods at them. "Alright, you two. Go handle it," he says, clearly impressed. The three of them walk out together. Once they are gone, Sushant returns to his work, satisfied with how the situation is been handled.
Later, SM calls them back briefly. "You both now handle TRP Foods' branding. And make sure this kind of mistake never happens again," he instructs, his tone firm but approving, before returning to his cabin.
Megha exhales in relief and turns to Sachi, wrapping her arms around her. "Sachi, thank you so much. I don't know what I would have done without you."
Sachi smiles softly and gives her a reassuring pat on the back. They walk back to their desks together. Sachi's workspace is immaculate, everything neatly in place—a reflection of her composed nature. Megha's desk, in contrast, is a chaotic landscape of files and scattered papers.
Sachi glances over briefly and says with a smile, "I think I might be surpassing your position one day, Megha."
Megha chuckles, shaking her head. "Ahaha... so you've got your eyes on my position, huh?"
"I guess," Sachi replies with a quiet grin, her fingers already flying over her laptop keyboard.
They share a soft laugh before Megha gets up and heads toward the pantry to get her coffee, leaving Sachi immersed in her work, calm and focused as ever.
Neha, whose desk is right behind Sachi and Megha, steps forward hesitantly, her face pale and nervous. She stands awkwardly near Sachi, wringing her hands.
Sachi senses her presence and looks up. "Neha, please scan this for me. Do you need anything else?"
Neha stammers, her voice barely steady. "S-Sachi ma'am... I'm really sorry. Just because of me, you had to face such a big trouble."
Sachi sets her work aside and gestures to a chair near Neha. "Come, sit," she says gently.
Neha hesitates for a moment, then sits, still looking guilty.
"Neha," Sachi said gently, her tone calm and reassuring. "Mistakes happen. You don't need to worry about it. Instead of thinking about what went wrong, let's just make sure it doesn't happen again, okay? So stop stressing over the past and gather some information about TRP Foods for me."
Neha's dull, anxious expression brightens immediately. "Yes, ma'am!" she says, a small spark of confidence returning. She turns to go back to her desk, but Sachi calls out again, "Neha, you forgot these papers. Please scan them and mail them to me."
Neha takes the documents and hurries to the scanner, determined.
Mr. Mahesh Manjrekar, 68, sat in his cabin — a space unlike any other in the entire Magnus Tower. The walls were adorned with minimalistic art, the lighting soft yet commanding, and the nameplate on his mahogany desk gleamed in bold letters: Mr. Mahesh Manjrekar , Chairman.
Known across the building simply as MM, he was a man of few words and firm authority.
Even at sixty-eight, his presence carried the same quiet power it always had — the kind that could silence a room without a word. At the moment, he was reviewing a neat stack of papers before him, each awaiting his signature.The door to Mr. Mahesh Manjrekar's cabin swung open.
In walked a handsome tall young man in his early twenties — black jeans, black jacket over a white T-shirt, white sneakers, and a black backpack slung over one shoulder. His expression was nothing short of furious.
"MM!" he burst out. "Why are my debit and credit cards blocked?
"Mahesh slowly lifted his eyes from the stack of papers before him, gave the boy a calm, measured look — and then, without a word, returned to his work.
Just then, his executive assistant, Sethi — thirty-four, always in a rush — came running to the door, panting slightly. "Yuvan sir, Chairman is busy right now, you can—"
Before he could finish, Mahesh interrupted, handing him a bunch of signed documents. "Sethi, take these. Make sure they go out today."
"Yes, sir," Sethi said quickly, collecting the papers and glancing through them to confirm the signatures. Once satisfied, he hurried out.
Mahesh opened his laptop again, completely ignoring Yuvan's sulking presence.
Yuvan, however, wasn't the kind to give up so easily. He flopped onto the couch on the other side of the cabin, crossing his arms dramatically. After a moment of silence, he stood up and walked over to the desk.
"Come on, MM," he said, his tone softening into mock drama. "You can't let your own grandson starve out there. I had to borrow cash from my friend for coffee today! Coffee, MM! Do you know how humiliating that is for a Manjrekar ?"
Mahesh didn't look up. "It's good for you to struggle a little — it'll teach you something," MM in his mind. Good. Builds character, said strictly.
"It's not building my character — it's just giving me a headache because I didn't get coffee," in his mind. Yuvan sighed loudly. "Or caffeine withdrawal."
A faint smile tugged at the corner of Mahesh's lips, but he hid it behind his screen. Finally, he closed the laptop with a soft click and looked up at Yuvan.
"Fine," he said. "I'll have Sethi fix it. But next time, maybe try keeping some balance in your account before you max out your cards."
Yuvan grinned instantly. "You're the best, MM. I knew you couldn't resist your favorite grandson."
Mahesh's eyes narrowed in mock warning. "Favorite? Don't push your luck."
Yuvan laughed, slinging his backpack over his shoulder as he headed for the door. "Too late. Love you, old man!"
Mahesh shook his head, the faint smile still lingering. No matter how strict he was with the world, when it came to family, especially Yuvan — his sharp edges always softened.
But, MM felt a quiet sadness settle in. His favorite grandson is getting spoiled, and that worried him more than he liked to admit. After a long pause, he called Sethi into his cabin.
"Sethi," he said softly, "unfreeze Yuvan's cards."
"Yes, sir," Sethi replied, taking note. He hesitated for a moment, noticing the concern on MM's face — a sight that had become almost routine for him.
"You're worried about Yuvan again, aren't you, sir?" he asked gently.
Mahesh sighed. "How can I not be?"
Sethi gave a small smile. "Sir, why don't you ask him to join the company? Slowly, he'll learn everything. And with your blood in his veins, it's only a matter of time before he becomes just like you."
MM looked away, his expression heavy. "That's the problem, Sethi. I can't force Yuvan. Ever since he lost his parents — my son and daughter-in-law — he's never truly recovered. He hides it well, but the pain is still there. I don't want to burden him with responsibilities too soon. But at the same time..." He paused, his voice softening. "I want him to be strong, to take charge of this Magnus empire someday — just like Sushant is doing."
He leaned back in his chair, eyes distant. "Anyway... I'll figure out some way to convince him."
Inside the Harley-Davidson showroom which is only few minutes away from Magnus empire, Yuvan stood with his phone pressed to his ear.
"Nothing, just shopping," he said casually, before hanging up.
A staff member led him toward the display area. The manager walked up, smiled, and pulled off the cover with a practiced flourish, where a brand-new Harley-Davidson Sportster S gleamed under soft lights.
"Congratulations, Mr. Yuvan," he said, handing over the keys.
"Thanks," Yuvan replied, slipping on a faint grin. "Sethi will handle the paperwork."
He put on his helmet, swung a leg over the bike, and started the engine. The deep roar filled the showroom as he rode out, turning left toward Garware University — his college, and one of the many institutes under the
Magnus Group, where his grandfather MM sat on the board of directors.
As always, when he entered the campus, heads turned. The security guard opened the gate without a word, and Yuvan parked the Harley in his private garage — a privilege only he enjoyed.
There was something magnetic about him. That effortless charm, mix of confidence and carelessness— it drove most girls on campus crazy, but Yuvan hardly seemed to notice.
He made his way to the club room, a space filled with music instruments — a drum set, a few guitars, and scattered sheets of lyrics and notes. Sliding on his headphones, he sank into a couch and opened a book, half reading, half lost in thought.
Soon his friends gathered around, laughing and chatting. A couple of girls joined too — friends, but clearly trying their best to get Yuvan's attention. As usual, he didn't seem to notice.
Then, the air in the room shifted.
Miha walked in — daughter of another business tycoon, and granddaughter of MM's closest friend. She was Yuvan's age, strikingly confident, and, if she were honest, more than a little obsessed with him.
Trailing behind her were her ever-loyal sidekicks, Reema and Snehal, whom she dramatically called Rush and Sush.
The moment Miha entered, the other girls exchanged glances and quietly slipped away. No one dared to stay — not with Miha's temper and her overprotective nature when it came to Yuvan.
She stood there, arms crossed, eyes fixed on him — that same mix of admiration and irritation she always carried.
"Yuvan," she said sweetly, tilting her head. "New bike?"
Yuvan didn't look up from his book. "Hmm."
Miha frowned. "Just hmm? The Sportster S, right? Black finish? You could've called me; I would've come to pick it up with you."
Yuvan finally looked up, expression calm. "That's exactly why I didn't."
His two friends — Gauresh and Kabir — who were sitting nearby, tried and failed to suppress their laughter.
"Cold, bro," Kabir whispered with a grin.
Miha shot them a glare that could melt steel. "Something funny, boys?"
Gauresh quickly straightened up. "No, no. Just... appreciating the confidence."
Miha ignored him and stepped closer to Yuvan's at the couch. "You never have time for anyone, Yuvan. You just read boring books and act like the world doesn't exist."
Yuvan slipped his bookmark in and closed the book slowly. "Maybe that's because I like peace — something that usually disappears when you walk in."
Rush and Sush gasped softly, exchanging looks, but Miha just smiled — she liked a challenge. "You know," she said, leaning slightly forward, "you could at least pretend to be interested. Every girl in this college would die for a minute of your time."
"Then let them," Yuvan said, standing up and slinging his backpack over his shoulder. "I'm not running short of girls dying for attention."
Gauresh chuckled. "You sure know how to make fans and enemies at the same time."
Miha folded her arms, watching him head toward the door. "You'll talk to me someday, properly," she called after him. "And when you do, don't act like you didn't fall first."
Yuvan turned slightly, smirking. "If that ever happens, remind me to check my temperature."
Gauresh and Kabir burst into laughter as Yuvan walked out, leaving Miha standing there — half furious, half more drawn to him than ever.
Rush sighed dramatically. "You okay, Miha?"
Miha turned sharply, her expression switching from dreamy to furious in an instant. "Do I look okay, Rush?"
Rush blinked. "Um—"
"Exactly. Don't just stand there," Miha snapped, tossing her designer handbag toward her. "Carry my bag. Properly, please — not like it's a grocery tote."
Rush fumbled to catch it, nodding quickly. "Y-yes, Miha."
Then Miha turned her glare to Sush. "And you — I need my caramel latte. Extra shot, extra hot. Right now."
Sush hesitated. "But the café's—"
"Now, Sush!" Miha cut in, her voice echoing across the club room.
Both Rush and Sush scurried off, leaving Miha standing there, arms crossed, trying to mask the hurt under her irritation.
She took a deep breath and muttered under her breath, "He thinks he's too good for anyone. Fine. Let's see how long he can keep ignoring me."
Miha paced around the club room, still fuming over Yuvan's indifference. That's when something on the couch caught her eye — a small four-clove leaf keychain.
She picked it up, turning it slowly in her fingers, a knowing smile forming on her lips. "Well, well... looks like someone forgot something."
Before she could decide what to do with it, the door swung open.
Yuvan walked in, heading straight to the couch, scanning it impatiently. "Where the hell..." he muttered, checking under the cushions.
Miha stepped forward, pretending to sound casual. "Looking for something?"
"None of your business," he said flatly, still searching. "Kabir, Gauresh — did either of you see my keychain?"
Kabir glanced toward Miha, who was now holding the keychain with a faintly smug smile. Yuvan followed his gaze and froze.
"Miha," he said, voice low, "give it back."
She twirled the keychain between her fingers, teasing. "Maybe I will... if you take me out for coffee."
Yuvan let out a tired sigh. "You can't be serious."
"Oh, I'm always serious," she said, her smirk widening.
He looked annoyed, but the keychain meant something— and he couldn't afford to lose it over ego. "Fine," he said shortly. "Coffee. Happy?"
Miha's eyes lit up. "Delighted."
As they walked out, she already imagined herself riding behind him on his new Harley, but the moment they reached the parking area, she saw him heading straight toward her car.
"You're not taking the bike?" she asked, almost disappointed.
He shot her a warning look. "Try that, and I won't think twice before snatching the keychain back."
Miha sighed dramatically. "Fine. Rush, start the car."
A few minutes later, back in the club room, Sush returned holding a caramel latte. "Miha?" she called out.
Kabir looked up from his guitar with a grin. "Your Miss Miha left. With Yuvan."
Sush blinked. "What? She actually left with him?"
"Yup," Kabir said, chuckling. "Guess that latte's not needed anymore."
Sush looked down at the cup and sighed. "Great. Now what am I supposed to do with this?"
Gauresh, leaning against the drum set, smirked. "Easy — drink it. You deserve it more than she does."
Rush rolled her eyes but smiled, taking a sip. "Hmm... at least someone listens to me."
Megha rolled her chair toward Sachi's desk, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. "Sachi, let's go out for lunch. Since you saved me from that disaster this morning, the treat's on me."
Sachi didn't even look up from her screen, her fingers still moving over the keyboard. "Maybe next time, Megha. I really need to finish this report."
"Oh, come on," Megha groaned, leaning back dramatically. "Don't devote yourself to work that much. And as your senior, I'm officially ordering you to join me."
That finally made Sachi smile. She saluted playfully. "Aye aye, ma'am."
Both laughed as they packed up and headed toward the elevator.
Inside the lift, Megha scrolled through her phone, searching for lunch spots nearby. "Hmm... Italian? Or maybe sushi?"
Sachi shook her head with a small smile. "Actually, I brought my lunch. Something sweet today."
"Oh really? What's the occasion?" Megha teased.
"Nothing special. Just craving chocolate," Sachi said shyly.
At that, Megha's eyes lit up. "Then I know exactly where we're going — that café a little down the street. The one famous for its chocolate lava cake."
Sushant sat across from MM, his posture straight and composed "Mr. Verma's issue is sorted," Sushant began, his tone calm but assured. "Someone from the marketing team handled it.
He wasn't completely convinced at first, but he's agreed to continue with our proposal once the results show positive, he'll stay with us."
MM leaned back slightly, his eyes narrowing in thought. "Mr. Verma is a tough man to deal with—but a valuable client. We can't afford to lose him. There are plenty of companies just waiting for that chance."
Sushant allowed himself a small smile. "I know. That's why I'm still surprised someone managed to convince him."
MM glanced up, intrigued. "Who handled it?"
"Sachi," Sushant replied. "She's one of our Assistant brand manager."
MM gave a slow nod of approval. "Good."
Sushant stood, ready to leave, when MM's voice stopped him. "Join me for lunch," he said. "Your father's coming over too."
A faint smile crossed Sushant's face. "Of course," he said, and followed his grandfather's invitation out of the cabin.
Sachi and Megha sat at the corner table, chatting lazily as they waited for their order.
Megha was in full form, describing her dream man with an almost dramatic flair.
"Sushant is just—ugh—perfect," she said, resting her chin on her hand. "Smart, composed, well-dressed... and that calm voice of his? Total idol material."
Sachi chuckled softly. "You're hopeless."
"Maybe," Megha teased, "but tell me, who's your idol man?"
Sachi thought for a second. "Nothing in particular. But someone who's career-oriented, maybe? Someone with ambition—"
Megha groaned loudly. "Oh, come on, Sachi! At least not this from you! Dedication to work is fine, but not in your partner too! Imagine both of you glued to your laptops 24/7—when will you live your life?"
Sachi laughed. "It's not that bad."
"For you," Megha said. "You need someone chilled, who knows how to live without turning everything into a work report."
At the same time, Yuvan and Miha entered the café. They chose a table right behind Sachi and Megha—Yuvan facing the opposite way, directly across from Sachi's chair but with her back to him.
Miha leaned toward him, chattering about the coffee date she'd waited forever for. Yuvan, staring at her blankly, interrupted, "You didn't apply your lipstick today?"
Miha froze. "What?" She immediately dug into her bag and rushed to the restroom to check.
Yuvan exhaled, relieved at the brief silence, and started scrolling through his phone.
Meanwhile, the waiter arrived with their order—warm chocolate lava cake for Sachi and a slice of strawberry mousse pastry for Megha.
"You should date someone younger," Megha said mischievously as she picked up her fork. "Oh, how sweet you both would look."
"Megha, please stop," Sachi said, rolling her eyes. "I'm not babysitting anyone."
"And let's concentrate on this masterpiece instead," Megha said, cutting into the cake.
As soon as the spoon dug in, molten chocolate oozed out beautifully. She took a bite, her eyes widening in delight. "Wow. It's so good!" "Whoever invented this masterpiece," Sachi said dreamily, "is the best person in the world."
Megha handed her a tissue, laughing —just funny how a tiny cake can make you look like a happy little kid."
Sachi shrugged, still savoring the bite. "Who cares? Happiness is happiness."
Her excitement caught Yuvan's attention. He looked up briefly as he saw the girl—her back toward him—quietly laughing with her friend, chocolate smudged near her lips.
Yuvan looked down at his phone again, but with a faint curve on his lips.
Miha came back, adjusting her lipstick, and sat with a bright smile, "So, what were you looking at?" she asked, trying to sound casual.
"Nothing," Yuvan said, eyes still on his phone.
Then, spotting the keychain peeking out of her purse, he smirked slightly. Before Miha could react, Yuvan leaned forward, plucked the four-leaf keychain from her bag, and stood up.
"Thanks," he said simply, sliding it into his pocket and walking out of the café without another word.
Miha froze for a moment, torn between irritation and affection. "Ugh! That guy—" she muttered, but a faint smile betrayed her annoyance. "He's impossible."
At the next table, Sachi and Megha finished their desserts, laughing softly about work before heading back to the office
The evening dragged on softly as the sky outside Magnus Tower turned shades of amber and gray. One by one, employees packed their bags, chatting about their weekend plans—some about short trips, others about dinner dates or parties.
The sound of laughter and light teasing filled the open workspace.
Megha overheard a group planning a night out. She sighed. "Well, lucky them," she muttered to herself. "And here I am—going home to feed my siblings and make sure they finish homework."
"Sachi, what about you?" she asked suddenly. "Any weekend plans?"
Sachi smiled faintly, still focused on shutting down her system. "Finally, I'll get time to schedule some—"
Megha groaned. "Please don't! Let's not talk about your planner weekends again, it makes me feel sick."
Sachi laughed as she turned off her desktop. "Okay, okay. I'll spare you the boredom."
"Good," Megha said, grabbing her bag. "See you Monday!"
"See you," Sachi replied, waving as Megha disappeared through the glass doors.
Just then, Neha approached her desk, a shy smile on her face and two tickets in her hand.
"Sachi ma'am—"
Sachi looked up. "Neha, how many times do I have to say? Just Sachi."
"Right, Sachi," Neha corrected quickly, still a little nervous. "Actually, do you have any plans for tomorrow evening?"
Sachi shook her head. "No, not really. Why?"
Neha held out the tickets. "I got two passes for the Echo3 Concert. Would you like to join me?"
Sachi hesitated. "Oh, Neha, I don't really—"
Neha's face fell. "Please, Sachi. If you don't come, I'll feel awful about what happened earlier today. I'll probably carry that guilt forever."
Sachi chuckled softly. "Alright, alright. You win. Let's go."
Neha's eyes lit up. "Great! Meet me at 7 p.m. outside MM Studio!"
"Okay," Sachi said, smiling as Neha hurried off.
Sachi slung her bag over her shoulder and stepped out into the cool Friday night breeze.
Sethi walked into MM's cabin with a neatly organized file in his hand. "Sir, these are
Yuvan's performance summary reports and his recent whereabouts," he said, placing the file carefully on the desk.
MM adjusted his glasses and began flipping through the pages. His eyes lingered on the attendance sheet, then the grades. A deep sigh escaped him.
"Thank God this kid at least managed to pass all his subjects," he muttered, half to himself. "With this performance, I can't even think of recommending him as an intern anywhere."
He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple. "And if he works here, he won't take it seriously either. All I see are bills—bikes, clubs, and endless spending."
Sethi stayed quiet, sensing MM's frustration.
After a moment, MM closed the file and handed it back. "Anyway, take this," he said firmly. "And ask driver to get the car down."
"Yes, sir," Sethi replied, taking the file and leaving the cabin as MM turned his gaze toward the window—his expression a mix of disappointment and silent worry.
Next day, Yuvan sat sprawled on the couch, a book open in his hands, his black leather jacket draped loosely over a dark t-shirt. The faint glint of a chain peeked from beneath the collar, and his usual all-black look made him stand out even in the dimly lit room.
Across from him, Gauresh tuned his guitar, dressed in a casual white shirt rolled up to his elbows and faded blue jeans — the kind of effortless look that fit his easy charm. Kabir, ever the perfectionist, sat beside him in a grey tee layered with a denim jacket, quietly strumming a few notes to test the acoustics.
The room hummed with low chatter and the faint sound of distant bass from the main stage.
Posters of past concerts lined the walls, their faces plastered across them — reminders of how far they'd come.
Gauresh looked up, frowning. "Yuvan, everyone's asking who wrote the song. I can't keep dodging it—you should take the credit." I don't feel right singing something you wrote without your name on it."
Yuvan didn't look up immediately. He flipped a page, his expression unreadable. Finally, he closed the book with a soft thud and glanced at Gauresh.
"If you feel that bad," he said coolly, "then don't sing the song."
The words hung in the air, sharp and dismissive.
Yuvan got to his feet, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. "Anyway, I'm heading to the club after your concert. Could use a drink."
Kabir stopped strumming and looked up. "You're not going anywhere," he said firmly. "Stay for the concert, man. It's just an hour."
He leaned forward, his voice softening. "And about the song—how can I not play it?
Because of that song, we've gained so much popularity. People love it, Yuvan."
Before Yuvan could respond, the door opened and two technical crew stepped in. "Sir, the stage is ready," one of them announced. "We'll start letting the audience in within a few minutes. Would you like to take a look?"
Gauresh stood, straightening his shirt as the makeup artist approached to do the final touch-up. She dabbed lightly at his face, and moved to Kabir. The hum of last-minute preparations filled the room.
Yuvan left the room without another word, his footsteps fading down the corridor. The concert was set to take place on the MM Studio grounds — the open-air venue already alive with lights, sound checks, and the growing murmur of the crowd.
Outside the gates, Sachi stood waiting for Neha. She wore a long pink flared skirt paired with an off-white sweatshirt, her hair parted neatly in the middle and left open, swaying gently in the evening breeze. She glanced at her watch, then at the stream of people heading inside.
With a small sigh, she reached into her sling bag to pull out her phone and call Neha—but before she could dial, a familiar voice called from behind.
"Sachi!"
She turned around just in time to see Neha running toward her, slightly out of breath. Her hair was a bit messy from the rush, but her smile was bright as ever. She caught Sachi's hand and tugged her toward the entrance.
"Sorry, Sachi! I made you wait," Neha panted.
Sachi smiled, brushing it off. "No worries. Do you want—"
Before she could finish, Neha was already scanning the area, Sachi shook her head with a soft laugh. "Wait here, I'll just grab a water bottle from that stall," she said, pointing to a small kiosk tucked behind the corner.
Neha nodded, still catching her breath, as Sachi walked off toward the stall, the sounds of the stage check echoing faintly across the grounds.
The crowd erupted in cheers as Gauresh and Kabir stepped onto the stage, guitars slung over their shoulders. Spotlights swept across the audience, and the once-scattered crowd surged forward, pressing closer to the stage in excitement.
At that exact moment, Sachi was walking back toward Neha, a chilled water bottle in her hand. The sudden rush of people caught her off guard. Someone bumped into her from behind, and she stumbled forward—about to fall face-first onto the ground—
—but before she could hit the floor, strong hands caught her by the arms.
Startled, Sachi looked down at the hands steadying her, then froze, realizing someone had stopped her fall. For a heartbeat, she couldn't move, her heart still racing from the shock. But when she turned around to thank the person—he was already gone.
Yuvan had quietly stepped away, disappearing into the direction of the VIP seating area without a word.
Sachi blinked, glancing around, trying to see who it was. But with the crowd now packed tight and lights flashing, it was impossible to tell.
Shaking her head slightly, she made her way back to Neha and handed her the bottle. The concert had begun—the music, loud and electrifying, filled the air. Neha was completely absorbed, singing along and swaying to the beat, while
Sachi tried to blend in, clapping occasionally, still feeling a little out of place in the world of flashing lights and thundering bass.
Then Gauresh stepped forward, adjusting the mic stand. The noise of the crowd softened.
"This next song," "Fallen Stars," he said, his voice calm but carrying through the air, "was written for a very special person—by the songwriter himself."
The crowd quieted, the spotlight dimming to a warm gold. The instruments faded until only the gentle strum of Gauresh's guitar filled the space.
He began to sing.
The melody was soft and haunting, words tender but aching. As the song unfolded, Sachi found herself growing still. Something about the lyrics—something in the tune—felt strangely warmed.
The concert concluded in a wave of cheers, the final notes of the guitar echoing through the air. Neha's eyes shimmered with emotion, and she wiped them quickly before anyone could notice.
Sachi glanced at her and smiled to herself. Oh, this cute little thing, she thought fondly, slipping an arm over Neha's shoulder.
"Come on," she said. "Let's eat something before you start crying."
Neha laughed, a little embarrassed. "Did you enjoy the concert?"
Sachi nodded. "Yeah, it was nice."
"That's the magic of Echo3," Neha said proudly as they walked toward the exit.
Sachi tilted her head. "But there are only two members in the group. Why Echo3?"
"Oh, that," Neha replied. "The third member is actually the one who writes some of their songs.
Maybe he wants to stay hidden." "One of his songs was Fallen Star, the last one they played." Neha said, her eyes lighting up. "I think he must be such a cool person—someone who writes songs that emotional and deep. He probably doesn't care about fame, just wants to share what he feels. I'm already his fan!"
Sachi chuckled. "Neha, why don't you use that brain at the office once in a while? That would actually be helpful."
Neha's face turned pink with embarrassment.
Sachi laughed. "I'm kidding!" she said, unlocking her phone and scrolling through restaurant options. "Now, what do you want to eat?"
Across the road, strings of warm lights hung above a row of fancy cafés and food stalls.
The evening air carried the smell of coffee and grilled food, mixed with faint music drifting from a nearby bar. People were spilling out of the concert venue behind them, chatting excitedly, their laughter blending with the city sounds.
Neha tapped her chin dramatically. "Let's go to the club!"
"Absolutely not," Sachi said instantly, shaking her head.
Neha grinned, "Fine, fine. Fancy café it is."
A little later, they were seated in a cozy corner of a chic café—warm lighting, soft music, the aroma of coffee and freshly baked bread filling the air. Their plates arrived, and Neha immediately began clicking pictures for her social media stories.
Sachi, as usual, ignored her phone completely, focusing on her food instead. She wasn't one for selfies or hashtags—she preferred comforting simplicity of a good meal.
Sushant sat a few tables away from Sachi and
Neha, his laptop open, a cup of coffee resting beside it. Dressed casually in a light grey sweatshirt and dark jeans, he seemed lost in his work — calm, focused, and quietly confident, the kind of presence that didn't need attention but somehow drew it anyway.
As Sachi looked around the café, her eyes lingered on him for a moment. She could only see his side profile — the sharp line of his jaw, the slight furrow in his brow as he typed — yet something about him caught her attention.
He looks so composed, she thought. She quickly looked away, pretending to check her phone, though her thoughts stayed with him longer than she'd admit.
Neha asked for the bill, and after paying, she excused herself to the restroom. Sachi waited outside the café, the night air cool against her skin. The street was quieter now — the buzz from the concert had faded into a soft hum in the distance.
A moment later, Sushant stepped out of the café, his laptop tucked under one arm and a takeaway coffee cup in the other. His expression was calm, composed as always.
Sachi noticed him immediately — and also the sleek white luxury car parked just a few steps away, its engine quietly running.
Their eyes met for a brief moment. Sachi managed a polite smile, and Sushant gave a small nod in return before walking toward the car. The driver opened the door, and he slipped inside effortlessly, the car gliding away into the city traffic.
Sachi stood frozen, realization slowly dawning on her.
Wait... that's Mr. Sushant? she thought, her heart skipping a beat. The same Sushant I've been working under all this time?
Just then, Neha's voice broke her thoughts.
"Sachi? What are you staring at?"
Sachi didn't respond right away, still processing what she'd just seen. Neha poked her arm playfully, snapping her out of it.
"Huh? Oh—nothing," Sachi said quickly, forcing a smile.
They both waved to the café staff and started walking to get taxi across the door, the city lights reflecting softly on the road.
Sachi finally managed to hail a taxi. The city lights flickered past her window as she leaned back against the seat, exhaustion settling over her. Within minutes, the car pulled up near her apartment complex. She paid the fare, crossed the gate, and entered the lobby.
The lift doors slid open with a soft chime. She stepped in, pressing the button for her floor.
The faint hum of the elevator filled the quiet space as she leaned against the wall, her thoughts drifting back to the evening — the concert. The doors opened with a soft ding.
She walked down the corridor, unlocking her apartment door.
Her home wasn't large, but it carried her touch — everything neatly arranged, cozy, and spotless.
The small living room flowed into an open kitchen, separated only by a dining table set for three. She tossed her sling bag onto the couch, walked into the kitchen, poured herself a glass of water, and sat at the dining table, letting out a long breath.
Just as she was about to unwind, her phone buzzed. She stood up, fetched it from her bag, and settled onto the couch.
It was Neha — sending a stream of selfies from the concert and cafe. Sachi smiled as she scrolled through them. Amid the energetic crowd shots, she spotted a few candid pictures of herself — laughing, mid-conversation, unaware. Surprisingly, they looked good.
Neha actually has an eye for this, Sachi thought. Maybe she could help with the TRP Foods campaign visuals.
Still smiling, she placed the phone aside and stepped into her bedroom. After changing into her soft pajamas, she settled on the bed and opened her laptop, the screen's gentle glow lighting up her face. A few minutes later, she was already typing and scrolling — diving deep into research for the TRP Foods proposal, her focus returning to the one thing that always steadied her: work.
Meanwhile, across the city, the night pulsed with a different kind of energy.
Inside the Velvet Room, a club, Yuvan, Gauresh, and Kabir raised their glasses in a toast. The room was dimly lit, drenched in red and blue lights that flickered in rhythm with the bass-heavy music pouring in from the main floor.
"Cheers to Echo3," Kabir shouted over the music.
"Cheers," Yuvan replied, clinking glasses, a faint smirk curving his lips.
Soon, a group of three or four guys joined them — friends of Gauresh and Kabir. Yuvan recognized them instantly; they'd all crossed paths at this club before. The air thickened with laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the buzz of conversations.
After a few rounds, Kabir slung an arm around Yuvan's shoulders. "Come on, man, dance with us! Yuvan resisted at first, but the alcohol and energy in the room pulled him in. He set his drink aside and joined the others on the dance floor. The music thumped through the floorboards — loud, relentless, alive.
Soon, a few girls from a nearby group joined them, laughing and spinning under the strobe lights. The atmosphere was wild — drinks in hand, hands in the air, everyone losing themselves in the rhythm.
Sachi stretched her arms and let out a soft yawn. She glanced at her phone — 11:30 p.m. The day had drained her. Closing her laptop, she set it aside, turned off the lights, and sank into the comfort of her bed. Within moments, the quiet hum of the night filled her room as she drifted to sleep.
Meanwhile, at the club, the night was still alive. The music thundered through the walls, lights flashing across the room. Yuvan, though he had drunk more than enough, remained composed — his expression calm, his movements steady. Gauresh and Kabir weren't as lucky; both had nearly passed out on the couch. Around them, the other boys had already succumbed to the night's chaos — laughter, slurred voices, and half-finished drinks scattered on the table.
Rahul, one of their friends, leaned closer to a girl he'd been talking to, his words half-lost in the pounding bass. They left together, his arm sliding around her waist as he murmured, "Which hotel do you want to go to?" Their voices faded into the music as they disappeared into the corridor.
Yuvan exhaled, looking around at the mess. He called for the bouncers, asking them to help Gauresh and Kabir into the cab he'd booked for them. Both were half-asleep, mumbling something incoherent as they were escorted out.
Once they were gone, he stepped outside thye club. The cold air hit his face as he kicked his bike to life. The city lights blurred past him as he rode fast — too fast — until he finally stopped near a small, quiet park.
He turned off the engine and sat on a bench, the night now eerily still. The only sound was the faint rustle of leaves. He held his keychain loosely in his hand, staring into nothing, lost in thoughts that even he couldn't quite name.
A week later, Sachi stepped into the office lift, the metallic doors sliding shut behind her with a soft chime. The ride up was quiet, but as soon as the doors opened to the marketing department, the air changed — a buzz of nervous chatter filled the floor. Everyone looked tense, eyes darting between their screens and each other.
Today was the day of Mr. Verma's project review.
Megha, who had been pacing near the entrance, spotted Sachi the moment she walked in. "Finally!" she whispered sharply, grabbing Sachi's hand and pulling her toward the pantry area.
"Sachi, did you hear anything from Mr. Verma?" Megha asked, her voice tight with anxiety.
Sachi, calm as ever, shook her head. "Not yet."
Megha groaned, pressing a hand to her forehead. "How can you be so calm right now? Everyone's losing it out there! Mr. Verma's one of MM's top clients — and I heard even MM is personally involved this time. If we mess this up, how am I supposed to face him?"
Sachi just gave a faint smile and walked past her toward her desk, unfazed by the tension buzzing around.
Moments later, a hush fell across the office — Mr. Verma had arrived. Sushant came out of his cabin to receive him personally and escorted him inside. Megha leaned closer to Sachi, whispering dramatically, "See? He's here in person. Should I start typing my resignation letter now?"
Sachi didn't even look up from her screen. "Maybe wait until we actually hear the results," she said dryly.
Megha groaned louder. "You're impossible."
Ignoring her, Sachi picked up the phone and called Neha. "Schedule a review meeting with the internal team at 2 PM," she instructed. "Also, keep the TRP Foods files ready — we'll discuss that too."
Neha quickly agreed, and Sachi hung up, her focus already shifting back to her work as the office around her buzzed with nervous energy.
A few minutes later, the office boy, Jagdish, walked over to Sachi's desk. "Ma'am, Sushant sir has asked you to come to his cabin," he said.
Megha's eyes widened. "Oh no... is it bad news?" she whispered.
Sachi simply smiled, rolling up the sleeves of her light yellow floral shirt and adjusting the crease of her beige flared pants. "There's only one way to find out," she said calmly, then followed Jagdish.
At the cabin door, she knocked lightly before stepping in. "Good morning, Mr. Verma. Good morning, sir," she greeted politely.
Mr. Verma's face broke into a pleased smile. "Sachi, your proposal actually worked. We've seen great results — far better than expected. I just came by to let you know that we'd like to continue the project, but only if you're the one handling it."
Sachi smiled, poised and confident. "I appreciate that, sir. I believe when a strategy is built on understanding people — not just numbers — results follow naturally."
Mr. Verma chuckled, impressed. "Exactly what I like to hear. Keep it up, young lady."
Sushant, who had been silently observing, gave a faint nod of approval — a rare gesture from him.
As Mr. Verma left, mentioning he'd drop by to meet MM since they were close friends, Sushant escorted him to the door, exchanging a few courteous words.
When Sachi returned to her desk, she found Megha still chewing on her pen cap, stress written all over her face.
Sachi dropped her file on the table with a soft thud and said lightly, "You might have to save that resignation letter for next time — they don't need it anymore."
Megha blinked, then gasped. "Wait—what? It worked?"
Sachi smiled. "Better than expected."
Megha threw her arms around her dramatically. "You're a lifesaver! I swear, I was two minutes away from a full-blown breakdown!"
Sachi laughed softly, shaking her head.
Mr. Verma stepped into MM's cabin, greeted with a firm handshake.
"Mahesh! Good to see you," he said warmly.
"Always good to have you here," MM replied, gesturing for him to sit. "How's the project coming along?"
Verma leaned back, smiling. "Smoothly. The latest proposal your team sent worked out better than expected — especially the one handled by that young lady, Sachi."
MM raised an eyebrow. "Sachi?"
"Yes," Verma nodded. "Sharp, composed, and knows her numbers well. You've got real talent there."
MM's expression softened. "Hmm... good to know. I'll keep an eye on her progress."
They continued discussing timelines and future plans, their conversation ending with a firm handshake — Verma satisfied, and MM quietly intrigued.
Yuvan lay sprawled across his bed, shirtless, wrapped lazily in a black velvet blanket. His phone buzzed insistently.
With a groggy sigh, he reached out, blinking at the screen — Miha.
He swiped to answer, still half-asleep.
"Where are you, Yuvan? You didn't come to college—" Miha's voice came loud and sharp through the speaker.
Before she could finish, Yuvan hung up and dropped the phone back onto the bed, rubbing his eyes.
A soft knock followed, and the door creaked open.
"Yuvan," came a familiar voice. It was May, the housemaid in her mid-forties, holding a tray. "Please get freshened up. Your grandpa will be here today to see you. It's already 12:30 — and I've made your favorite food."
Yuvan let out a small groan but nodded, running a hand through his messy hair.
"Okay, May," he mumbled, finally pushing himself out of bed and heading toward the bathroom.
At exactly 2 PM, the conference room filled with the quiet hum of conversation and the soft tapping of laptops. Five people took their seats — Sachi, Neha, Megha, Rekha, and Ricky.
Rekha, in her mid-thirties, was composed and dependable, known for her eye for detail.
Ricky, around Sachi's age, leaned casually in his chair — witty and lighthearted as always, but everyone knew when it came to execution, he was the team's backbone.
Sachi entered, her calm energy instantly grounding the room. "Let's begin," she said, connecting her laptop to the screen.
"As you all know, Mr. Verma has approved the continuation of our project. Now, our focus shifts to TRP Foods." She clicked through the slides. "As per the reports, their brand has a strong traditional and ethical touch. We need to shape the campaign to reflect that authenticity — to connect emotionally with the audience."
She looked around the table, assigning tasks.
"Rekha, you'll handle the coordination with their product and logistics team — make sure the brand tone is consistent."
Rekha nodded with quiet confidence.
"Neha, you'll personally attend all the ad shoots. Since Hitesh's on leave, Ricky, you'll manage his part — and take Neha's help whenever needed."
Neha smiled subtly, a little spark of happiness in her eyes. Ricky grinned playfully, "Guess I'm finally getting an assistant."
Everyone laughed, and Neha rolled her eyes, trying to hide her smile.
Megha clapped her hands together. "Alright, then! I think all tasks are allotted. Let's make sure we hit this year's target — and let the other departments see the branding team shine."
The team dispersed with light chatter and renewed energy. Sachi gathered her files, concluding the meeting with a brief nod.
As the room emptied, Megha stayed back for a moment, looking at the screen thoughtfully.
"Ever since Sachi joined," she murmured to herself, "everything just looks so effortless. Even with my experience, I can't deny — she makes this team work like magic."
In his cabin, MM sat behind his desk, eyes fixed on his laptop screen. The quiet hum of the air conditioner filled the room until a soft knock interrupted.
"Come in," he said without looking up.
Sethi stepped in, a file in hand. "Sir, here's Sachi Desai's performance report," he said, placing it neatly on the desk.
MM flipped through the pages, scanning the data carefully. After a moment, he leaned back slightly. "Her performance is solid — especially in team coordination."
Sethi waited silently, hands clasped.
MM closed the file. "Schedule a meeting with her today at 5 PM. And inform the HOD to have her promotion letter ready — title it Senior Brand Manager."
"Yes, sir," Sethi replied, nodding. He exited the cabin and returned to his desk, quickly drafting an email.
Sachi was engrossed in finalizing the upcoming campaign layout when the email notification blinked on her screen.
She clicked it absentmindedly at first, but as her eyes caught the subject line — "Meeting with Mr. Mahesh Manjarekar – 5:00 PM" — her fingers froze mid-air.
"A meeting with MM?" she murmured, half anxious, half curious. For a moment, her mind raced through recent projects, searching for a reason. Recalling how smoothly the last campaign had gone, she let a breath and glanced at the clock. The minutes seemed to move slower than usual.
Neha stood near Ricky's desk, holding a draft layout of the TRP Foods mock-ups.
"Ricky, I've updated the packaging visuals like you asked," she said softly.
He glanced up from his screen, eyebrow raised. "Hmm... not bad. At least it doesn't look like a toothpaste ad anymore."
Neha blinked, unsure if that was a compliment or not. "So... should I make more changes?"
Ricky leaned back in his chair, smirking. "Nah, we'll tweak it later. For now, send it to Sachi once she's free — she'll want to align it with the final deck."
"Okay," Neha nodded quickly. She turned to leave, but he added, half joking, "And maybe grab a coffee while you're at it — your face looks like that layout gave you a breakdown."
Neha smiled despite herself. "Only slightly."
Ricky chuckled and went back to his work, headphones slipping on.
Neha quietly walked back to her desk, her cheeks warm and a small smile tugging at her lips.
Sachi finished her call with Sanjay ji, asking to reschedule their meeting for the next day. Her eyes flicked to the clock again — 4:30 PM.
She exhaled softly, glancing between her laptop and tablet, debating for a moment before deciding to take just her phone. Straightening her shirt, she headed toward the lift.
Beside her desk, Megha, looked up curiously. Her eyes followed Sachi for a moment, confusion written on her face. She wanted to ask where Sachi was going but thought better of it, quietly turning back to her monitor.
The lift stopped on the 15th floor, its doors sliding open with a soft chime.
This entire floor belonged to Mr. Mahesh Manjrekar (MM) — his domain of authority and precision. The glass-walled space revealed everything inside: his grand cabin, the boardroom, a private dining area, and even a rest lounge tucked discreetly at the far end.
Right near the lift was a wide desk where Sethi sat, typing something quickly, with his assistant Varun beside him. Two office boys occupied the smaller desk nearby, quietly managing files.
Sachi stepped forward. Sethi looked up, immediately recognizing her.
"You must be Sachi Desai?" he asked, adjusting his glasses.
"Yes," she replied politely.
"You're a little early. Please, have a seat — Mr. Manjrekar will call you in soon."
Sachi nodded and settled on the couch opposite his desk, her hands neatly folded in her lap. Time moved slowly — twenty minutes passed before Sethi finally stood up and gestured for her to follow.
He knocked on MM's cabin door before opening it slightly.
"Sir, Sachi is here."
MM, still focused on his desktop screen, motioned for her to come in. Sethi quietly exited, closing the door behind her.
"Please, sit," MM said without looking up immediately.
Sachi obeyed, her posture straight but calm.
After a moment, MM leaned back in his chair, eyes meeting hers.
"Sachi, I've been following your progress closely. I'm genuinely impressed with your performance —your consistency. Which is why I have a challenge for you."
Her brows rose slightly, curiosity flickering in her calm eyes.
He continued, his tone deliberate.
"My dearest friend's grandson will be joining our company. He's... let's say, a bit spoiled. I want you to train him. If, within six months, you can keep him working here sincerely — and make him fit into our system — your promotion will be made permanent."
He opened a drawer and handed her an envelope. "Here's your promotion letter, already prepared. Senior Brand Manager."
Sachi blinked, momentarily stunned. Just six months — and she could reach a position that many spent years chasing. It was a step away from the Head of Department role, a title she had quietly dreamed of.
She exhaled softly, regaining her composure.
"Sir, I appreciate your trust," she said carefully. "I'll give my best — but I'll need complete clarity about the goals and his responsibilities from day one."
MM smiled faintly, impressed by her composed professionalism. Sethi will share his details. Your challenge begins tomorrow."
Sachi stood, thanking him sincerely before leaving the cabin.
As the door closed behind her, MM leaned back, thoughtful.
"I hope this works," he muttered to himself.
He picked up his phone and dialed a number.
"Yuvan," he said when the line connected. "I can't meet you today — something's come up. From tomorrow, you'll start working here. Sachi Desai will guide you. Don't disappoint me... or I'll have to freeze your cards."
There was silence on the other end. Then, without waiting for a reply, MM ended the call.
Yuvan stared at his phone screen for a few seconds after the call ended.
"Start working... tomorrow?" he repeated under his breath, a frown forming.
He tossed his phone on the bed and leaned back against the headboard, running a hand through his messy hair. The room was dim — the curtains still half-drawn
**
Evening lights flickered across the streets as the last hint of sunlight faded behind the skyline. Sachi walked toward the supermarket, her beige sling bag slung over her shoulder, hair tied loosely as the cool breeze brushed past her face.
Inside, the aisles buzzed softly with people finishing their day's errands. She picked up a basket and began moving efficiently through the rows — peas, milk, eggs, Kriz's cocoa powder, leafy vegetables, mushrooms, banana crisps, paneer, and finally, a packet of chocolate chip cookies.
At the cash counter, she waited patiently as the cashier scanned each item. The soft beeps mixed with the faint music playing overhead. "₹2,146, ma'am," the cashier said.
Sachi smiled, handed her card, and typed her PIN. As the receipt printed, she neatly packed everything into her bag, thanked the cashier, and stepped outside into the cool evening.
Catching a taxi, she leaned back against the seat, her phone in hand but her mind elsewhere — mostly on the unexpected "challenge" that awaited her tomorrow.
When she unlocked her apartment door, the comforting smell of home greeted her — along with the sight of Urvi, her younger sister, already sprawled on the couch with a laptop and calculator, clearly in the middle of some financial chaos.
As soon as Urvi saw her, she jumped up excitedly, almost running for a hug — but instead grabbed the grocery bag out of Sachi's hands, digging through it with laser focus.
"I knew it!" Urvi squealed, holding up the cocoa powder triumphantly. "You went to that store!"
Sachi smiled, shaking her head with amused resignation.
"I should've known you'd only come home if I bribed you with hot chocolate," she teased.
Urvi grinned. "Exactly. Now go change — your amazing sister is about to make her signature drink!"
By the time Sachi changed into her comfortable pajamas and tied her hair into a loose bun, a steaming mug of hot chocolate was already waiting for her on the center table. The rich aroma of cocoa filled the air.
Sachi sank into the couch and took her first sip. "So," she said, glancing at Urvi with a teasing smirk, "how much profit did you make this month?"
Urvi straightened proudly. "Better than last month! I think even my boss might finally stop frowning at me every morning."
Sachi chuckled. "Good, at least someone's making progress. Maybe now you can finally think about starting your own boutique you always talk about."
Urvi's confident smile faltered for a second. "Uh, boutique? Yeah, maybe next year..." she mumbled, pretending to sip her drink.
Sachi raised an eyebrow. "Urvi, you should be serious about it. You're talented. And you know I'll be there for you, always."
"Yeah, yeah," Urvi said, waving a hand dramatically. "Now stop being all emotional—" she paused mid-sentence, frowning into Sachi's mug. "Wait. Did I just forget the whipped cream again?"
Sachi looked down at her drink, sighing in mock annoyance. "Uh-oh. Give me a second."
She walked into the kitchen to grab the cream from the fridge. Urvi watched her sister's calm, focused figure from the couch, her smile softening.
Sachi returned, adding a generous swirl of cream on top. "There, now it's perfect—just like your big sister's life advice."
Urvi rolled her eyes. "Perfect? Please. The only thing perfect here is the dinner I'm about to cook!"
Sachi smiled. "I'll admit, that's something I actually look forward to."
Urvi smirked. "Good. Then don't complain if I make you do the dishes later."
Sachi laughed. "Deal—as long as there's dessert involved."
Later that night, the cozy aroma of spices filled the apartment. Sachi took her first bite and sighed in delight. "You're three years younger than me, yet I can't make food this good."
Urvi smirked, flicking her hair playfully. "What can I say? Some talents are reserved for the chosen few."
They both burst into laughter, the kind that only came easy at home — warm, familiar, and safe.
After dinner, Sachi began gathering the plates from the table.
Urvi stretched her arms lazily. "Alright, I'll take a leave now."
Sachi looked up, surprised. "You're leaving already? Two more cups of hot chocolate are still pending!"
Urvi chuckled softly. "Let's save those for another day or better yet—why don't you come back home? Mom misses you a lot."
Sachi sighed, setting the dishes down for a moment. "Urvi, I'll book a cab for you. Just wait a minute."
Urvi frowned, stepping closer. "Don't change the topic, Di. You need to stop being so hard on yourself."
Sachi's expression turned distant. "I don't wish to come back, Urvi. Our family... isn't together anymore."
Urvi didn't respond immediately, just watched her sister quietly. The cab notification buzzed on Sachi's phone, breaking the silence.
"Your cab's here," Sachi said softly.
Urvi nodded, grabbed her bag, and left with a faint smile that didn't reach her eyes.