CHAPTER 01
“Sameera, at sharp four we meet them, and by six we leave this bloody place,” I snapped, my voice slicing through the quiet like a whip.
Correction— yelled.
My poor secretary froze, her pen hovering midair, eyes wide as though I had just committed a crime against humanity.
It was the first time I had ever raised my voice at her. Sameera, the one person who had endured my quirks with patience, who had never once faltered in her loyalty. She was a beautiful young woman, just three years older than I am, brilliant in ways that often made me wonder why she chose to work under me instead of running her own empire. She could handle languages like a pro—six or seven Asian languages along with English rolled off her tongue effortlessly, making her indispensable in international negotiations. She hadn’t done anything wrong. But she was there, and I was irked, frustrated, suffocating in this place that reeked of memories I had buried deep. And when anger needs an outlet, it doesn’t ask for fairness.
“Ma’am…” she began softly, her voice trembling, her eyes darting nervously as though she feared I might lash out again. “I’ll make sure everything is ready.”
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose, the weight of my frustration pressing down on me like a storm cloud. “I know, Sameera. I know. Don’t take it personally. It’s not you. It’s this place.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line, but she nodded. Loyal as ever. Then, after a pause, she added carefully, “You know, ma’am, sometimes the places we hate the most are the ones that force us to face what we’ve been running from. Maybe this meeting will be different.”
I shot her a look, half amused, half annoyed. “Oh, thank you, Sameera, for the unsolicited wisdom. Should I start calling you my therapist now?”
She smiled faintly, knowing my sarcasm was my way of softening the sting of truth. “I’m just saying… maybe Mr. Malhotra isn’t as bad as you think.”
I groaned. “Don’t start. Everyone seems to be singing his praises. My father practically worships the man, and now you too? What is this, a fan club?”
Sameera chuckled nervously. “I’m not in a fan club, ma’am. I just… I’ve read about him. He’s respected. And if your father believes in him, maybe there’s something worth seeing.”
I waved her off, unwilling to entertain the thought. “Respect doesn’t mean I have to like him. And I don’t. End of story.”
Friendly boss— that’s me. I mean, everyone working with me is older than I am, and some interns we have are of my age. So I usually prefer being their friend, working alongside them rather than bossing them around. It helps me learn from all my senior staff, and I know because of that all my employees love me. Though Dad is the CEO in the papers, I am the decision maker and he supports and helps me out when I need him. I’m the one who remembers birthdays, who cracks jokes in boardrooms, who insists on treating interns like equals. But Nainital… Nainital drags out the worst version of me.
And thanks to my father, I’m stuck here, forced to finalize a deal with the oh-so-great Vihaan Malhotra.
Vihaan Malhotra. The name itself carried weight, like a brand. Malhotra Industries— India’s golden dynasty. I had done my homework: Oxford graduate, family settled in London, but he chose to play dutiful grandson in Delhi, expanding the empire. Handsome bachelor, successful businessman, practically dripping with charm. My father thinks he’s a gem. I think he’s a nuisance.
And of course, Vihaan insisted on meeting me here, at his resort by Nainital Lake. Not his office, not London— no, he had to drag me back to the one place I swore I’d never return.
The irony was almost poetic.
Why here?
Why not anywhere else?
My mind kept circling that question like a vulture, picking at the bones of my irritation.
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