Shivansh's POV
I knew something was off the moment Avya called me.
"Yes, Avya?" I answered the phone.
"Shivansh bhai, can you join me for dinner tonight?" she asked, her voice too sweet for comfort. Suspicion crept in—she never called me "bhai" unless she had an ulterior motive.
I raised an eyebrow. Dinner? Yeah, right. I could smell the manipulation a mile away. "I'm a bit busy, Avya," I said, trying to wiggle out.
"Bhai, don't be like that! I hate eating alone. Come on, can't you join your little sister for one meal?" She laid it on thick, her voice syrupy enough to drown me in guilt.
"Fine," I gave in with a sigh, knowing it was pointless to argue. When Avya wanted something, she'd get it, no matter how hard I tried to avoid it.
I arrived at the hotel and immediately saw a familiar figure sitting at the table Avya had mentioned. From the back, I couldn't tell exactly who it was, but for a moment, I thought, Who the hell is she meeting? Her boyfriend? But as I got closer, it clicked. Of course. Reeyansh.
I grumbled under my breath. So this was her plan—to get us to patch things up. As if a dinner could magically fix the rift between us.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, even though I already knew.
"Dinner," he replied arrogantly, barely glancing up.
"I was expecting Avya," I shot back, sitting down with a thud.
"And I was expecting her too," he responded, the arrogance thick in his tone.
I muttered a curse under my breath. Reeyansh, in his usual pompous way, smirked and said, "Some respect, Shivansh. I'm still your elder brother if you've forgotten."
I rolled my eyes. "By one month, Reeyansh. That hardly makes a difference."
"One month and three days," he corrected.
"And four hours," I added smugly. "But guess what? That doesn’t make you special."
"You still admit I'm older," he said, a smirk creeping across his face as if he'd just won a courtroom battle.
"I swear, I want to punch you," I muttered, glaring at him.
"But you won't," he said casually, leaning back in his chair. "Because you love me."
"Stop calling me Shiv," I snapped.
He chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. I stood up, my irritation mounting. "You're ruining my mood."
But when he stood up too, I found myself following him. Instinctively. It was like a habit, as much as I hated it.
"Why are you following me? Don't you hate me?" he teased, glancing over his shoulder with that infuriating smirk.
"I'm heading toward the exit, Reeyansh Bhai," I said, the sarcasm thick in my voice.
Just then, his attention shifted. "Isn't that Aadya?" he asked, pointing toward the entrance.
I turned and spotted her, arguing with the manager. Typical. Aadya could argue with anyone over anything.
We walked over, smoothed things out with the manager, and just as we were about to leave, Navya appeared. Reeyansh and I offered the table to Aadya and Navya, but Aadya insisted we join them. And, of course, Reeyansh agreed.
I sat down, determined to ignore Aadya. Ever since the whole dhaba incident, I’d hoped for a better response from her. But, as usual, she'd brushed me off coldly. I was still irritated.
Navya and I struck up a casual conversation. She was smart, hardworking, and genuinely nice. Meanwhile, Reeyansh and Aadya exchanged barely a few clipped words. Then, as if on cue, Reeyansh knocked over a glass of juice, spilling it all over Navya's dress.
Since when is he so clumsy? I thought, watching the scene unfold.
A few minutes later, Reeyansh excused himself, following Navya toward the restroom. Suspicious.
I sat quietly, avoiding Aadya's gaze. But I could feel her eyes on me.
"Stop staring," I said without looking up.
"I-I'm not," she stammered, clearly flustered.
I smirked. "It's alright, Princess. No need to explain."
She huffed. "I just... I feel bad," she muttered, hesitating.
I raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"You know how impulsive I am," she said, her voice quieter than usual.
"Yeah, no one knows that better than me," I said, my words dripping with sarcasm. I'd been the victim of her impulsiveness too many times.
"Okay... I'm sorry," she mumbled, struggling with the words.
I blinked in surprise. Aadya apologizing to me?
"It's fine, Princess," I said, my voice softening. "You don't need to apologize."
"You... forgave me?" she asked, pouting slightly. She looked so cute I almost smiled.
"I'm not mad, Aadya. Just... upset. I didn't expect that reaction from you."
She sighed, staring down at her hands. "I don’t know what came over me. It was stupid. But honestly, I am proud of you. I’ve seen how hard you’ve worked to start your firm. You've done an amazing job."
Her words caught me off guard. Hearing that from her felt... surprisingly good.
"So, you've done some research on me?" I teased, trying to break the sudden tension.
"Don't forget, I'm also a lawyer. And a damn good one," she shot back with a grin.
I laughed. "Touché. But don’t you think Reeyansh and Navya are taking a bit too long?"
"True. They’ve both been gone for ages," she agreed. "Let’s go check on them."
We walked towards the back when Aadya noticed Navya's clutch lying near a side door. "Why is her clutch here?" she asked, frowning. We exchanged a glance and decided to check inside.
When we opened the door to the lawn, what we saw made my heart stop.
Navya and Reeyansh... kissing.
Aadya froze beside me, her face mirroring the same shock I felt. The world tilted, the ground beneath my feet felt unsteady.
Navya broke away first, clearly embarrassed. But Reeyansh? That shameless man didn’t even flinch, still holding her close.
"Aadya..." Navya stammered, stepping away from him.
Aadya's voice was sharp, cutting through the awkwardness. "What the hell is going on, Navya? Did he—did he force you?"
I raised an eyebrow, knowing Reeyansh would never do that, but still, I asked, "Navya, did he...?"
Reeyansh shot us both an incredulous look. "What do you think I am? Of course I didn’t force her. She’s my girlfriend."
Aadya narrowed her eyes. "She’s not your girlfriend, okay?"
"She is my girlfriend," Reeyansh countered. "Ex-girlfriend, technically," Navya mumbled.
I blinked, piecing it together. Was Navya the girl he dated in London?
Aadya, never one to back down, glared at Reeyansh. "So, you two were dating? He's that London guy?"
Navya sighed. "Yes, Aadya. Now that you know, can we please go?"
As Navya walked away, I shook Aadya out of her trance. "She’s gone."
Aadya finally snapped out of it, her glare fixed on Reeyansh as she stormed off.
I stayed back with Reeyansh. "Is she the one?"
He nodded.
"Did you ever ask her why she left?"
He sighed, the arrogance fading from his face for once. "Do you think she'd tell me?"
"You probably found out by now, knowing you," I said, folding my arms.
He shook his head. "I haven’t. But right now, that’s not important. She’s in a mess."
"What mess?" I asked, concern creeping into my voice despite myself.
He explained how Navya was accused of negligence in a patient’s death at her hospital, and her ex-boyfriend, Aditya Maheshwari, was behind the false accusations.
I frowned. "I’ll see what I can do."
Reeyansh looked at me, surprised. "You still hate me, though."
I shrugged. "Yeah, but I can still help. We’re family at the end of the day."
A slow smile crept onto his face. "Let’s have a drink."
"Are you sure?" he asked, shocked.
"Yeah," I said, leading the way to the bar. Maybe Avya’s plan worked halfway, I thought. Because we did end up having dinner together... and now, we were even having drinks.
Advay's POV
Today's meeting carried a weight that went beyond just business. We were selecting a company to develop the software for our new delivery app—a crucial project for Birla Enterprises. Usually, Vivaan would handle something like this, but with the tech team stretched thin, outsourcing was our best option. What I hadn’t expected was to see a familiar name on the list of companies pitching for the job: Roohi Agrawal.
I knew she was smart; anyone who spent more than five minutes with her could see that. But seeing her company’s name in this setting was a surprise. This was the first time I’d witness her in a purely professional environment—no family ties, no personal complications. I was curious to see how she’d handle herself.
The presentations started with Ahuja’s firm. It was professional, polished, and by-the-book—nothing groundbreaking, but solid. Then, Roohi took the stage. The energy in the room shifted instantly. Confidence radiated from her as she walked up to the screen, her posture relaxed but commanding. Her voice was steady, her ideas sharp, and the clarity of her vision impressive. Even Vivaan, who’s notoriously hard to impress when it comes to tech, leaned in with a look of genuine interest.
By the time Roohi wrapped up, it was clear to everyone: she had delivered the best pitch.
When we moved to deliberations, some committee members hesitated, citing her firm's lack of experience in this specific sector. But I wasn’t having it.
"We need fresh ideas," I said firmly, keeping my tone level. "Her pitch was the strongest. This isn’t just about experience; it's about innovation."
Vivaan, ever the critical thinker, nodded. "She nailed the technicals. Experience can be built, but vision? That’s rare."
With Vivaan backing her, the rest of the room quickly fell in line. The decision was made: Roohi’s firm would handle the project. It was a choice based purely on merit. But I knew what would follow—whispers, rumors. A young woman, my fiancée, winning a major project? People would twist it into a story of favoritism.
Sure enough, as soon as the announcement was made, Ahuja stood up, slow clapping, sarcasm dripping from every gesture.
“Well, well,” he began, his voice oozing disdain, “what a shock. The fiancée wins the project. Why even bother having a competition if it’s just about personal favors?”
My fists clenched under the table. I glanced at Roohi. Her eyes met mine for a brief moment—defiance blazing in them. She wasn’t going to let this slide.
Ahuja wasn’t done. He leaned back, his voice thick with mockery. "Typical. Another woman climbing up using someone else’s shoulders. A gold digger pretending it’s merit when it’s just favoritism."
That did it. Before I could react, Roohi stood up so abruptly her chair crashed to the floor. The room fell into a tense silence.
“Mr. Ahuja,” she began, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife, “I tolerated your remarks out of respect for your seniority, but you’ve crossed the line.” Her gaze was fierce and unrelenting. “You think I got this project because I’m Mr. Birla’s fiancée? I earned this through hard work, not favors. If you can’t handle losing to a woman, that’s your problem, not mine.”
She took a step closer, her tone growing even sharper. “And if you ever call me a gold digger again, I’ll bury your reputation so deep no one will find it.”
The room was frozen. Even Ahuja looked rattled. Roohi turned to me, her fiery gaze sending a silent message, then stormed out without another word. Her footsteps echoed in the stunned silence.
I should have stepped in sooner. The moment Ahuja started his snide remarks, I should have shut him down. But hearing him call her a gold digger… that pushed me over the edge.
I didn’t wait. I stood up and strode toward Ahuja, grabbing his collar before he could react. Pulling him close, I growled, "You think this was a favor? You’re just too pathetic to admit she beat you fair and square. Insult her again, and next time, you’ll lose more than just a project."
Ahuja’s face paled, but I wasn’t done. "Respect is earned, not demanded. And if anyone else has a problem with the decision, they can take it up with me. But don’t you dare insult my woman in my territory again."
I let go of his collar, straightening his jacket with a rough tug. Then, addressing the room, I added, "For the record, Roohi didn’t win because she’s my fiancée. She won because she was better than you. And we all know it."
Without waiting for a response, I left the room, still seething.
I found Roohi in the parking lot, standing by her car, fists clenched, breathing hard. The second I saw her, I knew Ahuja’s words had cut deep. She wasn’t just angry—she was furious.
I approached her, trying to keep my tone light. "Give me a lift."
She shot me a glare. "Where’s your car?"
"Not working," I lied, knowing full well I had a fleet of cars at my disposal.
Her eyes narrowed. "You have an entire security team. Take one of their cars."
I smirked. "Should I call your mother and tell her how you’re leaving me stranded?"
Her glare intensified, but with an annoyed huff, she got into the driver’s seat. I didn't wait for permission—I slid into the passenger seat beside her. The tension in the car was thick, her anger palpable as she gripped the steering wheel tightly.
The drive started in silence, the air heavy with unspoken words. Roohi’s knuckles were white on the wheel, her fury simmering. When a car cut us off, she snapped, pressing the accelerator and weaving through traffic recklessly.
"Roohi!" I shouted. "Slow down! You’ll get us killed."
She ignored me, her jaw clenched, driving even more aggressively. Realizing she wasn’t going to listen, I took a drastic step.
I unbuckled my seatbelt, letting myself lurch forward and hit the dashboard hard. The car screeched to a halt as she slammed on the brakes.
"Are you insane?" she yelled, her voice shaking. "Are you okay?"
Ignoring her concern, I yanked the keys out of the ignition. "What the hell, Advay?" she snapped.
I stepped out, walked around to her side, and opened her door. "Move."
She glared up at me. "You’ve lost it."
"No, Roohi. You have." I grabbed her arm and pulled her from the driver’s seat despite her resistance. I marched her over to the passenger side and forced her into the seat, buckling her seatbelt firmly.
"You’re not driving," I said flatly. "Just sit there and calm down."
I climbed into the driver’s seat and restarted the car. She reached for her seatbelt, but I shot her a warning look. "Unbuckle that seatbelt, Roohi, and you won’t like what happens next."
Her glare was fierce, but she stayed put. "You think you can control me like that? I don’t need you to ‘save’ me, Advay. I’ve been dealing with men like Ahuja my whole life."
"You think I don’t know that?" I shot back, frustration boiling over. "I was about to stop him—"
"About to?" she scoffed. "You didn’t do anything! I had to defend myself. You just stood there."
"I was seconds away from—"
"From what? Letting him walk all over me?" she interrupted, her voice rising. "This isn’t about you being calm or collected. This is about you not caring. I’m just your forced fiancée, and we both know it."
Her words hit harder than I expected. I gritted my teeth, trying to hold my temper.
"Roohi, you don’t understand—"
"What’s there to understand?" she yelled. "I’m only here because of that stupid scandal. And you didn’t even stand up for me! I know you don't like me, but I expected you to at least take a stand for me in front of everyone."
I gripped the steering wheel tighter, struggling to keep my anger in check.
"You know what, Birla? I don’t even want to be in the same place as you. You don’t even care for me as a human." With that, she started unbuckling her seatbelt.
I grabbed both her wrists with one hand and started driving. "You want to be angry? Fine. But not like this." my voice low and intense. "And for the record, I care more than you think."
Her breath hitched, eyes widening at the weight of my words. I held her gaze for a moment longer before releasing her wrists.
"Don’t try any stunts now," I warned.
She glared but stayed silent.
The rest of the drive was tense and quiet. When we finally reached her house, I parked and turned to her. "I’ll have your car sent back tomorrow."
Without a word, she stepped out, her gaze still burning with unresolved fury before disappearing inside.
Watching her walk away, I realized something: no matter how much she infuriated me, I knew one thing. Even if I didn’t love her, I was definitely attracted to her—and that wasn’t good.
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