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Aahana Agnihotri & Adarsh Khanna 

Aahana Agnihotri 

I stepped into the opulent lobby of the Golden Hour Serenade, Phuket's latest seven-star hotel, and despite its grandeur, it did nothing more than annoy me. How I wished I was here for a party. As if getting arrested at that party last week wasn't humiliating enough, now I was stuck attending this dull company retreat for the next three days.

Being forced to mingle with a bunch of boring people and engage in meaningless small talk with brown-nosers all because I was arrested because of a silly misunderstanding was an overkill in my opinion. At least I wasn't forced to attend the corporate training on top of this retreat.

My heels clicked against the marble floor, a staccato rhythm that matched my simmering irritation. I huffed, blowing a loose strand of hair away from my face. This was going to be the worst get away ever. I caught glimpses of myself in the mirrored pillars. I looked out of place in my long floral red dress, a stark contrast to the crisp business attire of the other people in the lobby.

The woman at the desk greeted me with a wai, hands pressed together in a respectful bow. I nodded. "Aahana Agnihotri."

"Let me check," she said, typing away on her computer. I tapped my nails on the glass desk as I glanced around the lobby. A few employees recognized me, nodding and smiling politely at me. I plastered a fake smile and focused my attention back to the woman.

"How long will this take?" I asked, my frustration increasing. My mother's secretary had texted me that my room would be ready for me when I arrived, but apparently not.

"Ms. Agnihotri?"

I forced myself to smile widely as I turned to face the man calling my name. One glance at the man and my heart began to race. My breath came out in short, sharp gasps as the man continued walking towards me.

"It has been ages," he said warmly, oblivious to the panic rising in my throat. "Your father mentioned you'd be here." He held out his hand, but I made no attempt to take it. "I'm Manohar Verma. I-"

"The CFO. I'm aware," I managed to say, my voice tight. I shook his hand for a brief moment, wrenching my hand back the moment I felt his fingers tighten around my palm. "How are you?"

"I'm fine. How have you been?" he asked with a wide smile.

"Good," I said, focusing on anything else other than his face. The older man's eyes lacked malice, but they bore an uncanny resemblance to those that haunted her nightmares for years.

"Growing more beautiful every time I see you," Mr. Verma continued, taking a step closer. His proximity was suffocating, and I could feel my control slipping.

"Thank you," I replied mechanically, my mind racing for an escape. I clutched the fabric of my dress tighter, my knuckles turning white.

"Your father must be proud, such an impressive young woman taking charge in the business world." He reached out, likely intending a friendly pat on the shoulder, but my messed up mind as usual perceived it like a threat.

"Please, don't—" I started sharply, stepping back so abruptly I almost tripped. Mr. Verma retracted his hand, confusion etching his features.

"Are you alright, Aahana? You seem... distressed."

"Air. I need air," I blurted out, her voice trembling. "I'm waiting outside. Let me know when my room is ready." Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel and hurried toward the glass doors leading outside, my breaths coming in ragged gulps.

"Ms. Agnihotri!" Mr. Verma called after me, but I didn't stop.

Couldn't stop.

The scorching afternoon air felt like a slap, but it did little to calm my racing heart. I closed my eyes as I struggled to steady my breathing.

"Focus, Aahana," I hissed through clenched teeth. "Just focus on something else?"

The view in front of me was nothing short of breathtaking. I could try and replicate it on my canvas. What colors would I use?

Cerulean blue for the sky.

Turquoise for the ocean.

Emerald green for the hills by the shoreline.

The ivory white for the sand.

Canary Yellow and Crimson Red for the longtail boats.

Finally shades of black and gray for the silhouette of people on the beach. I'll probably use a combination of Jet Black,Pewter, Graphite and Charcoal Grey. 

I sighed. The panic receded like a toxic tide, leaving behind a familiar wasteland of self-loathing and bitter resentment. Why was I like this? Why couldn't I just be normal, just for one goddamn day?

From the corner of my eye, I noticed the lady from the reception approaching me hesitantly.

"Ma'am, your keys," she whispered, as if I were some wounded animal, her face a nauseating mix of concern and pity that made my skin crawl and my stomach churn. The sympathy in her eyes ignited a fresh inferno of rage and shame.

"Finally," I snarled, snatching the keycard with trembling fingers. "Try to get my luggage to my room before the end of my trip, will you? Or is that too much to ask?"

Her smile crumbled, and a sick part of me rejoiced. Let them hate me. Let them choke on envy at my perfect life. But even as I savoured this small victory, a nagging voice in the back of my mind whispered the truth. For a moment, I saw my reflection in the glass. I looked every bit of the broken woman I knew I was. 

I pushed the thought away, clinging to the familiar comfort of superiority. It was easier when they hated me.  Straightening my back, I put on my sunglasses that rested on top of my head and stomped off.

____

"This is so fucking annoying," I muttered, stabbing at the door with the keycard, each failed attempt stoking the fire of my frustration.

"Something wrong?"

My day had just plummeted from bad to catastrophic.

"Other than being forced to breathe the same toxic air as you?" I spat. "Not a thing in this godforsaken world."

Adarsh chuckled, the sound grating on my already frayed nerves. "Always a pleasure seeing you, Aahana."

I whirled to face him, my eyes narrowing behind my sunglasses. Instead of his usual business suit, he was wearing an olive green button down shirt and beige pants. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in one of those boring sessions to prove to my father what a good sycophant you are?"

"I already did that," he replied, with a casual lift of his shoulder. "I was just going to my room to relax before the evening events began." He cut the distance between us in three long strides. He leaned casually against the wall. "Though watching you wage war with that door is certainly more entertaining."

Realization dawned upon me. "Your room is beside mine?"

He grinned. "Purely coincidental, I assure you."

"Well, aren't I so lucky," I muttered, returning my attention to my task. I cursed under my breath as the light flashed red once again. Placing my hands on my hips, I turned to face him. "I don't need an audience for this."

"Clearly, you do," he smirked, pushing off the wall and stepping closer. "Here, let me-"

"Don't you dare!" I nearly snapped the key card in two with how tightly I was holding it. "I'm perfectly capable of opening a door."

"Oh, I can see that," he drawled, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Very impressive technique. Revolutionary, even."

I gritted my teeth, fighting the urge to slap that smug look off his face. "Just go into your room, fill a bathtub and drown."

"And miss this riveting lesson on how not to open doors? Not a chance," he grinned, crossing his arms.

With a frustrated growl, I swiped the card again. Nothing. "This stupid thing is broken!"

"Or maybe," Adarsh said softly, moving closer, "You're just too worked up to do it right."

Before I could protest, he gently took the card from my hand, his fingers brushing mine. The brief contact sent an unwelcome jolt through my body.

"May I?" he asked, his voice low and infuriatingly calm.

I stepped back with a huff.

"You know, these things work better when you're not trying to murder them," he said conversationally as he inserted the card smoothly, waiting for the green light before pushing the door open. He turned to me with a triumphant smile. "Well those women weren't kidding when they said I have magical fingers."

"Women have slept with you out of their free will?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Please give me their address so I can send them sympathy cards."

He smirked, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. "Is that jealousy I detect in your voice?"

Scoffing, I stormed past him into the room. Just as I was about to slam the door shut on his face, he stopped it with his hand. "You owe me."

"I never asked for your help!" I retorted, crossing my arms.

"It doesn't matter. I still helped you," he said with a casual shrug, already beginning to pull the door closed. "So now you owe me one." Before I could argue with his bizarre logic, the door swung shut with a resounding click.

Adarsh Khanna 

"Hello, Vedika Bhabhi! Calling to check up on the best brother-in-law in the world?"

A high-pitched giggle erupted from the phone, catching me off guard.

"Chachu, it's not Mumma—it's me!" chirped a small voice, brimming with mischief and excitement.

My smile widened as warmth spread through my chest. I tossed the empty packet of instant coffee and bottle of water into the trash. "Me who?" I teased, playing along.

"Amaira!" she announced, dissolving into another fit of giggles.

I settled onto the couch with my fresh cup of morning coffee, adopting a more serious tone. "How many times have we told you to not touch anyone's phone without their permission?" Despite my words, I couldn't keep the amusement from my voice. My niece was definitely at that age where pushing boundaries was her favorite pastime.

There was a brief pause, then her voice came through, this time in all seriousness that it made me sit up straighter. "But I needed to talk to you about something very important."

I took a slow sip, savoring the familiar, slightly bitter taste. "Oh, really? What's so important that you had to call me yourself?"

"You need to get married," Amaira declared with all the gravity a seven-year-old could muster.

I nearly choked, the coffee going down the wrong way. Coughing, I managed to sputter, "What? Did Dadi put you up to this?"

"No!" she protested indignantly. "But you need to get married, Chachu. And fast," she repeated, her voice firm.

I couldn't help the chuckle that bubbled up, a mix of amusement and bewilderment. "Why fast?"

"Because if you get married, you'll have kids. And if you have kids, they can go to school instead of me!" she explained, as though it were the most obvious solution in the world.

I burst into laughter, marveling at her childish logic. My inner lawyer itched to point out the flaws in her argument, but I bit my tongue. "Ah, I see! So, you want me to have kids just so you can skip school? Very clever, ms. smarty pants, very clever."

She giggled, and I could picture her blushing, pleased with her own cunning. "So when are you going to get married?" she pressed.

I sighed dramatically, playing along. "I could get married right now, but there's one tiny problem. I can't find a woman who wants to marry me."

There was an equally dramatic sigh from the other end. "Dadi says it's because you're working all the time," she said, her voice a perfect imitation of my mother's disapproving tone. Then, brightening suddenly, "Oh! Maybe you could marry my class teacher, Miss Avantika. Then I won't have to go to school at all, and I could be first in the entireeeeeeeeee class!"

I laughed again, shaking my head. "I'll keep that in mind. But for now, I think you're just going to have to go to school and be the good girl I know you are. Okay?"

"Fine," she sulked. Then after a beat, she added, "I miss you."

My heart melted. In the background I heard my sister-in-law calling out for Amira. I checked the time on my watch and it was almost time for her school bus to arrive. "I miss you too, but I'll be back in three days. Now, be a good girl and give the phone back to your mom."

"Okay," she said, her usual chirpiness back in her voice. "Bye-bye"

As I ended the call, I couldn't help but shake my head, grinning.

With the steaming cup of coffee cradled in my hand, I made my way to the balcony. The past four days had been a grueling corporate training, each hour feeling like a never-ending torture session. But now, with three days of team building activities ahead, I could finally get closer to the Agnihotri family on a personal level. Anirudh Agnihotri, the head of the company, had shown some trust in me in the professional capacity, but it was clear that it was not enough to fully include me in their inner circle. The only time he had asked for a personal favor was when he asked me to bail Aahana out. That was because my boss wasn't available. I needed to get closer to him if I wanted to get all the information I wanted.

As I stepped onto the balcony, the warm humid heat greeted me. I leaned against the railing of my balcony, sipping my morning coffee as I admired the breathtaking Phuket scenery. But my attention was quickly drawn to the neighboring balcony.

Bathed in the soft light of dawn, was Aahana- moving with the grace of a ballet dancer as she flowed through a series of yoga poses. The snug lavender sports bra and form-fitting black leggings hugged her curves, leaving little to the imagination. Heat pooled in my stomach as I continued to watch her move from one pose to the next.

A low, appreciative hum rumbled in my throat. "Well, waking up to this beautiful view, I'm sure my day is going to be great," I said, loud enough for her to hear.

Aahana's brow furrowed as she sensed a shift in the air. Turning her head, her gaze collided with mine. I didn't bother hiding my blatant stare, instead meeting her eyes with a challenging smirk. She used her hand to shield her eyes as she narrowed her eyes.

My initial plan had been simple: befriend the Aahana Agnihotri. However, my extensive research had proven that she was used to a horde of men kissing the very floor she walked on, I realized I needed a different approach. To capture the attention of a woman so accustomed to adoration, I had to stand out. So, I chose a riskier path. With each carefully crafted quip and pointed observation, I began to rile her up at any given opportunity. It was surprisingly easy; beneath her ice-queen exterior lay a temper as fiery as her reputation. Each flash of annoyance in her eyes, each tightening of her jaw, sent a thrill through me.

"Do you mind? I'm trying to workout here."

"Not at all," I said, misunderstanding her request on purpose, leaning over our shared balcony railing so I could catch a better view. "Though I must admit, I'm curious. What exactly are you doing? Some kind of interpretive dance?" I teased.

Her jaw clenched. She rose from a particularly intricate pose with deliberate slowness, turning to face me fully.

"It's called yoga, Mr. Khanna," she said, her voice dripping with condescension. "Not that I'd expect you to recognize anything requiring grace and elegance."

I took a leisurely sip of my coffee, savoring both the rich flavor and her obvious irritation. "Yoga, huh? Looks like a lot of fancy stretching to me. Does it come with the complimentary attitude, or is that your personal touch?"

Aahana's nostrils flared slightly, a telltale sign I was getting under her skin. "The attitude is reserved for nosy neighbors who don't understand the concept of privacy."

"Privacy? On an open balcony?" I chuckled, undeterred. "I'm merely appreciating the beautiful view. It's not my fault it comes with a free morning show."

She grabbed her water bottle, taking a long drink before responding. "If you're so interested in fitness, perhaps you should try it yourself. It might help work off some of that excess..." she paused, her gaze sweeping over me critically, "...ignorance."

"I'll stick to my gym, thanks," I grinned, leaning further over the railing. "Though I must say, that last move where you had your leg behind your head looked particularly... flexible. Could you demonstrate that again? You know, for research purposes."

Aahana's cheeks flushed. "You're impossible," she huffed, gathering her mat.

"I prefer to think of myself as persistently charming," I called after her retreating form.

She paused at her balcony door, throwing one last glare over her shoulder. "Persistently annoying is more like it. And it's called the bird of paradise pose, not that you'd appreciate the nuance."

As she disappeared into her room, I couldn't help but feel a sense of victory. Riling up Aahana Agnihotri was quickly becoming my favorite pastime, and I had a feeling our days together in Phuket were about to get a lot more interesting.