YOU LIVE IN MY HEART

6.A PERFECT PLAN

The Mumbai night air bit at Ananya’s skin as she stood on the

hotel balcony, the city lights a shimmering blur through her

unshed tears. The photo—her younger, skinnier self laughing

with Vihaan by the riverside—gnawed at her. It was a humiliation

she’d buried, now unearthed by his careless slip at dinner.

Shame and anger churned within her. That photo had to

disappear—out of his hands, out of her past.

Back inside, the team retreated to their rooms, the day’s success

dulled by her turmoil. Ananya lingered in the hallway, her mind a

storm, until Nisha approached, concern etched on her face.

“Ananya, what’s wrong? You looked shaken at dinner.

”

Ananya pulled Nisha into her room, closing the door with a soft

click. She sank onto the bed, hands trembling. “It’s Vihaan,” she

whispered, voice breaking. “That photo he dropped—it was us,

from college. Me, skinny and awkward, with him by the river.

Before the bet ruined everything.”

Nisha’s eyes widened, a silent gasp escaping. “The bet? He kept

that?”

Nisha hesitated, then smirked. “Okay, I’m in. He’s probably with

Vikram downstairs. I’ll keep watch. Text if anyone’s coming.”An

hour later, Nisha texted: “Bar. He’s with Vikram. Go now.

”

Misjudging his whereabouts, she assumed he’d stay put. Ananya,

dressed in a loose night suit—shorts and a thin shirt, her hair

untied—slipped out, the keycard Nisha had swiped from the

front desk earlier in hand. Her pulse raced as she reached

Vihaan’s suite, the hallway silent. The card unlocked the door

with a green flash.

Inside, the room was warm, the air thick with the scent of his

cologne and the faint steam of a recent shower. Ananya’s

stomach flipped as she scanned for the wallet. It lay on the

nightstand, leather glinting under the dim light. She opened it,

her breath hitching as she found the photo—her younger self,

glasses slipping, laughing with Vihaan by the riverside. Her

fingers closed around it, the paper crinkling, when the bathroom

door opened. Vihaan stepped out, a towel slung low around his waist, water

droplets tracing his broad chest and defined arms. His dark hair

was damp, his sharp jawline and hazel eyes striking in the soft

light. Ananya froze, the photo slipping from her grasp onto the

floor. Her gaze drifted, caught by his physique, a flush creeping

up her neck before she snapped back to reality.

What are you doing here?” Vihaan’s voice was low, a mix of

surprise and suspicion, his sarcastic edge sharpening.

Ananya’s mind raced. She swayed slightly, clutching the

nightstand, and slurred, “Oh… is this your room? I thought it was

mine. That’s why I can’t find my things. Must’ve had too much

wine.” Her laugh was forced, her eyes darting to avoid his.

Before Vihaan could respond, the door burst open. Nisha rushed

in, her jaw dropping at Vihaan’s appearance—his toned body a

shock she couldn’t hide—before she masked it with a nervous

grin. “Oh, here you are! I was looking for you, Ananya. You drank

too much. I’m so sorry, sir—she’s out of it.

”

Vihaan’s eyes narrowed, but he stepped back, wrapping the

towel tighter. “Get her to her room. Now.” His tone was clipped,

though a flicker of curiosity lingered as he glanced at the wallet

and the photo on the floor.

Nisha grabbed Ananya’s arm, pulling her toward the door. “Come

on, let’s go. Sorry again, sir.” Her voice trembled, stunned by his

unexpected handsomeness but focused on the escape.

Outside, Anaya’s legs wobbled as Nisha dragged her down the

hall. “Did he buy it?” she whispered, heart pounding.

“Barely,” Nisha hissed. “That was close. And… wow, he’s hot. But

focus—did you get the photo?”

Ananya patted her pocket, realizing she’d left it behind in her

panic. “No… it’s still there.” Her voice cracked, embarrassment

flooding back. The image of Vihaan’s physique clashed with the

memory of the photo, leaving her torn between humiliation and

an unwanted spark.

Back in his room, Vihaan picked up the photo, his fingers

brushing the edges. He’d seen Ananya’s reaction, her wide eyes,

her stumble. The wallet felt lighter, but the photo’s presence

reassured him—until he noticed the slight bend where her hand

had been. A frown creased his brow. She’d been after something.

And he intended to find out why? .