Sanjita dropped into one of the plush chairs in the waiting area, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her jaw still clenched in frustration. She could still hear faint murmurs from the conference room, but she refused to dwell on it.

Of course, Avyant Rathore had to humiliate her like that in front of everyone. Typical. The man thrived on making her life difficult.

She pulled out her phone, scrolling mindlessly to distract herself as the minutes dragged on. Eventually, the large wooden doors of the conference room swung open, and the attendees began spilling out.

Her friends were among the first to approach her—Chanchal, Meera, Suraj, Raghav, and Nidhi. But even as they came toward her, Sanjita's eyes instinctively flickered past them.

Avyant.

Dressed in his crisp white shirt with his blazer now back on, he walked out with his usual composed stride, his expression unreadable. For a second, she thought his gaze might waver, might acknowledge her presence. But no. He didn’t even spare her a glance.

He walked right past her, as if she didn’t exist.

Sanjita felt an inexplicable sting at that.

Chanchal plopped onto the chair beside her with a guilty smile. "Listen, yaar, I didn’t mean to get you kicked out. It’s just—have you seen his arms?" She groaned dramatically. "It’s not my fault they are sculpted like that!"

Meera sighed. "Chanchal, you need therapy."

"Real talk," Nidhi agreed.

Before Sanjita could respond, Raghav leaned against the armrest of her chair with a teasing grin. "But seriously, Sanju, five minutes? You lasted only five minutes before Mr. Malhotra kicked you out? I thought you had more patience."

Suraj smirked. "Legend has it, Sanjita Gaur holds the record for the fastest removal from an official meeting."

"Shut up," she grumbled, though the corners of her lips twitched slightly.

"Just don't stress. It was your first day—it happens. But let me tell you, this new look of yours, with ginger short hair, is absolutely stunning. I mean, you look so sexy that, believe me, if I were a guy, I’d have proposed to you right here and now!" Meera exclaimed, her eyes shining with excitement.

She took a step closer, inspecting Sanjita’s hair with keen interest. "But tell me, where did you get it done? And how did this even happen? You were so adamant about not cutting your hair!"

Sanjita’s fingers twitched at her sides as she met Meera’s gaze. For a brief second, she considered telling the truth—but then, she simply shrugged, forcing a casual smile.

Chanchal leaned in, a mischievous smile playing on her lips as she continued,

"Okay let me tell you, in the morning, when I came here, I saw a girl with almost electrified hair arguing with the guard. Minding my own business, I gave him my name, showed my college ID, and he let me in. But then—" she paused for dramatic effect, "I heard my name being called. I turned around, and guess what? The electrified-hair girl was none other than our very own Sanj!"

A small giggle escaped her lips as she shook her head.

"I was so shocked seeing her like that. Sanj, who was always so particular about her hair, had somehow ended up with this wild, messy ginger look. At first, I thought maybe she had gone for some bold transformation. But then,"

she smirked, "I saw her panicked face, and I knew something was wrong."

She turned to Meera, her eyes twinkling. "Turns out, our dear Sanjita had not planned any of this. She had tried to use a fancy hair mask for some self-care, and instead—boom! She accidentally bleached her hair."

Meera gasped, eyes wide with amusement.

"No way! She accidentally bleached her hair?"

Sanjita groaned, covering her face.

"Why do you have to say it like that?"

"Because it’s hilarious!" Chanchal teased, nudging her playfully. "You should’ve seen the guard’s face. He looked so done with you, Sanj."

Meera burst into laughter, clutching her stomach. "Oh my God! And you seriously didn’t notice until then?"

Chanchal wiped a tear from her eye, still laughing. "Well, by the time she realized, it was way too late. She had no choice but to go to some random salon and chop it all off."

Meera shook her head, grinning. "Sanju, this is gold! But honestly? You look amazing. A total glow-up!"

“So, it was a bad day for Sanj," Raghav declared, stretching his arms. "Why don’t we go out and have some fun?"

Sanjita, who had been zoning out, looked up. "Hmm? Fun sounds good. Where are we going?"

Before Raghav could answer, Chanchal quickly interjected, "Oh, I just remembered! I have to submit an assignment tonight."

"Yeah, same!" Meera nodded a little too eagerly.

"Me too," Suraj added, avoiding eye contact.

Nidhi sighed dramatically. "And I have a terrible headache. I should rest."

Raghav narrowed his eyes at them. "Wow. Such convenient excuses."

Sanjita, oblivious to the reason behind their reluctance, laughed. "Seriously, guys? You all ditching me on my bad day?" She turned to Raghav. "Guess it’s just us then."

Chanchal bit her lip, exchanging glances with the others. "Um… yeah, you two have fun."

"Yeah," Suraj mumbled. "Lots of fun."

Raghav smirked at their obvious meddling. "Oh, we will."

Sanjita, still unaware of the hidden tension, cheerfully linked her arm with Raghav’s. "Let’s go then, partner-in-crime!"

Raghav chuckled, leading the way while their friends watched them leave, shaking their head.

As Sanjita hopped onto Raghav’s bike, her laughter echoed through the quiet evening. She playfully tapped his shoulder. “Ride safely, okay? I don’t want to die just because you decided to show off your bike skills.”

Raghav smirked, fastening his helmet. “Oh, come on, Sanj. Have a little faith in me.”

Unaware of the sharp gaze fixed on them from above, Sanjita clutched his shoulders for support. “Just don’t get us into an accident, Mr. Racer.”

From the large glass window of his office, Avyant Rathore’s eyes darkened. He leaned against the frame, his sharp features impassive, yet his grip on the edge of the desk tightened.

His secretary entered hesitantly, noting the tension in the air. “Sir, the board meeting—”

Avyant raised a hand, cutting him off. He didn’t take his eyes off the scene outside.

Then, as Raghav revved the engine and sped off with Sanjita clutching his shoulders, Avyant turned away, his expression unreadable.

Sanjita and Raghav arrived at their regular café, slipping into their usual seats. The cozy atmosphere and familiar aroma of coffee instantly lifted her mood. They spent the evening chatting, teasing each other, and laughing over shared memories.

After finishing their drinks, Raghav glanced at his watch. “Let’s go, I’ll drop you home.”

Sanjita nodded, picking up her bag as they walked out. Soon, they were back on the bike. The night breeze was cool as she clutched his shoulders, enjoying the ride in silence.

When they reached her apartment, she hopped off, adjusting her bag. “Thanks, Raghav. Today was nice.”

He leaned on the bike, grinning. “Always here to fix your bad days, Sanj.”

She gave him a small smile before turning and walking inside, disappearing behind the gate as Raghav drove off into the night.

After Raghav left, Sanjita let out a small breath and headed toward her floor. The ride had cleared her mind a little, but exhaustion still weighed on her shoulders. She walked through the dimly lit corridor, her mojaris making soft tapping sounds against the floor.

Reaching her door, she fished out her keys and unlocked it, pushing the door open. As she stepped inside, a strange unease crawled up her spine. Something felt… off.

Just as she shut the door behind her, her eyes landed on a dark silhouette standing near the window. Her breath hitched, and a gasp escaped her lips.

Her hand instinctively flew to the switchboard, and with a quick flick, the room flooded with light.

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as her eyes adjusted—only to find none other than Avyant Rathore standing there, his gaze sharp, unreadable.

Sanjita’s fingers curled into fists. “What are you doing here?”

Sanjita's breath caught in her throat as Avyant’s deep voice cut through the silence.

"Why was I unwelcome here, Rose?"

Her eyes widened in shock, her grip tightening on the strap of her bag. It had been years since anyone had called her that—since he had called her that.

Her old nickname, the one Avyant had given her when they were younger, rolled off his tongue so effortlessly, as if time hadn’t placed miles between them.

Sanjita took a slow step back, her heart pounding. “Don’t call me that,” she muttered, more shaken than she wanted to admit.

Avyant tilted his head, his gaze steady, almost amused. “Why not? Isn’t that what I used to call you?”

Sanjita’s pulse quickened as she took another step back, gripping the strap of her bag like a lifeline. “How did you enter? I literally just unlocked the door from outside.” Her voice wavered slightly, laced with confusion and unease.

Avyant remained where he was, his expression unreadable. At her question, his lips barely curved into a smirk as he simply said, “I have my ways.”

Her brows furrowed. “That’s not an answer, Kuwarsa,” she snapped, trying to mask the unease creeping up her spine.

He tilted his head slightly, watching her with sharp, assessing eyes. “It’s the only one you’re getting.”

Sanjita exhaled sharply, frustration bubbling up inside her. “Unbelievable,” she muttered under her breath.

Sanjita exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Just tell me why you’re here.”

Avyant crossed his arms, his gaze unwavering. “We made a deal, Rose, and according to that, you’re the one who’s going to cook for me. Remember?”

Her jaw tightened at the nickname. “Stop calling me that, Kuwarsa.”

A slow smirk tugged at his lips. “Then you have to stop calling me that, Rose.”

Sanjita clenched her fists, glaring at him. “Not happening.”

“Then neither is this.” His smirk deepened as he leaned back slightly, looking completely at ease in her home.

***************************************

Hello Poochiies.

Here is another chapter hope you like it.

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