YOU LIVE IN MY HEART

4.BENEATH THE SURFACE

next morning, Ananya woke with a start, sunlight filtering

through her apartment’s thin curtains. Her phone lay on the

floor, the unknown number’s message still unread. She groaned,

her body stiff from sleeping on the couch, the dream’s aftertaste

lingering like a half-remembered song. “Get it together,” she

muttered, pushing herself up. The client pitch was today, and

she couldn’t afford to be distracted—not by cryptic messages,

not by dreams, and definitely not by Vihaan Kapoor’s intense

stare.

She showered, swapped her crumpled blazer for a sharp teal

blouse and black trousers, and pulled her hair into a neat braid.

The dream nagged at her as she sipped coffee, the man’s suit

and hazel eyes too vivid, too close to the CEO who’d unsettled

her yesterday. But that was ridiculous. Vihaan was her boss, not

some dream phantom. And yet, the college photo she’d found—

the one with a younger Vihaan—kept creeping into her thoughts.

She shook her head, shoving the memory down. Today was

about the pitch, not the past.

At CyberPeak Solutions, the office buzzed with pre-pitch nerves.

Ananya arrived early, her laptop open, reviewing the AI demo

she’d helped build. Nisha slid into the cubicle beside her, coffee

in hand. “Ready to wow the client?” she asked, her grin

infectious.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Ananya replied, forcing a smile. Her mind

flickered to the dream, then to Vihaan’s lingering gaze in the

meeting. She pushed both aside, focusing on her code.

In his glass-walled office, Vihaan watched the team prepare, his

tablet open to the pitch deck. Ananya’s absence from his

message’s reply stung more than it should. Had she ignored it

deliberately? Or was she oblivious? Her presence in the office now—

her teal blouse catching the light, her focus

sharp—drew his eye. She wasn’t the shy girl from Riverside University

anymore. She was a force, her confidence and beauty a quiet challenge to the

guilt he carried. He wanted to talk to her, to explain the message, to confront

the past. But the pitch came first, and he couldn’t risk distraction—not for her,

not for himself.

The meeting room filled as the team gathered for a final rehearsal. Nisha ran

through the slides, Vikram tested the demo, and Ananya chimed in with

technical details, her voice steady despite the dream’s lingering weight.

Vihaan stood at the front, his tone all business. “This pitch is our shot. No

errors, no excuses. Get it right, and we’ll have that office party you’re all so

excited about.” His eyes flicked to Ananya, who met his gaze briefly before

looking away, her expression unreadable.

The tension between them simmered, unspoken but palpable, as the team

finalized their plan. Ananya’s dream, the message, the photo—all loomed like

shadows, waiting to surface.