It's Monday, and just like every other corporate majdur, I absolutely hate Mondays. Can you believe it? After having such an amazing time at the girl's night yesterday and playing my heart out with Mishri, I'm back at this company that treats me like shit!

Right now, I'm sitting in the meeting room again, but this time, without the usual dread of getting called out by my boss for not landing any interviews.

Because guess what?

I GOT THE SARTHAK SINGH INTERVIEW.

I still can't wrap my head around it. He literally said straight up 'No' on my face just the other day. I'd already given up, so much so that I had my resignation letter drafted and ready to send to my boss.

But then he suddenly contacted me to confirm the interview. Me. I'm still in disbelief.

Ugh, this meeting is painfully boring. All I want right now is to curl up in bed, snuggle with Mishri on one side and my teddy Bholu on the other, and sleep the entire day away.

But hey, Ishika—you're Mishri's mom now. You've got to earn for her. So that you can spoil her with treats.

"Ms. Ishika, back on earth, please." I snapped out of my thoughts as Mr. Goyal shot me a deadly glare. All eyes in the meeting room were suddenly on me. Every single colleague looked like they just witnessed my career obituary.

"Yes, Mr. Goyal?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

"You're not seriously thinking I'll continue to keep you in this company after your pathetic performance, are you?" he sneered. "So tell me, did you manage to get Sarthak Singh's interview like we discussed in the last meeting? And don't you dare give me the same excuse that you're still trying."

I met his eyes and straightened my posture. "Well, Mr. Goyal, I'm not here to hand out excuses today. I tried my best to convince Mr. Sarthak for this interview, and he said yes."

The room shifted in an instant. A wave of murmurs and hushed whispers rolled across the table. They all were in disbelief, because no one expected that from me? Well sorry to hurt your small egos then.

Mr. Goyal, who had clearly walked into this meeting dead set on firing me today, suddenly looked as shocked as the audience here.

"Silence, please," he finally spoke, and just like that, all the whispers and murmurs came to a halt.

"I spoke with his manager, Mr. Jhunjhunwala, and he confirmed the interview for this Saturday," I added, my voice calm but confident.

"Nice work, Ishika."

Those words finally came from his lips. Short. Rare. But enough. For the first time, I have officially earned the chance to debut my very first interview.

"Saturday it is then. Everything needs to be prepped accordingly. Understood?" Mr. Goyal asked, sweeping his gaze across the table.

"Yes, sir," everyone replied in unison.

With that, he closed the file, dismissed the meeting, and walked out of the room.

I started gathering my stuff, ready to leave too, but just then-"Hey, Ishika!"

It was my colleague, Priya.

"Yes, Priya? What's wrong?" I asked, turning to her as the rest of our colleagues walked out of the meeting room, leaving the two of us alone.

"I wanted to ask you something," she said casually.

Priya Bansal—the only daughter of her billionaire father who owns massive companies in Dubai and Abu Dhabi.

To get a guest for the interview, she can do anything, and can pay any price just to be the face of the show. That's exactly how she became Mr. Goyal's favorite.

"Sure. Ask."

"How did you manage to get Sarthak's interview?" she asked.

"I contacted him first, but he said no right away. Then, the next day, he reached out to me himself and said he was interested."

I didn't mention that I went to the gym that night to convince him, because it wouldn't take her long to figure out I'm not the Adya the internet keeps buzzing about. Yeah, I've seen those jokes floating all over the internet.

"Well, stop lying. How much did you offer him? Don't tell me you offered him your body? Come on, you can tell me-I won't spill."

Is she out of her damn mind?

"Stop it, Priya! I did none of that. So please mind your own business." With that, I walked out of the meeting room, leaving her standing there.

How could she even think I'd offer my body for an interview? That's beyond insulting—it's disgusting.

I made my way back to my cubicle, quietly arranging my things before sinking into the chair with a heavy sigh.

Don't think about her, Ishika. Be positive. Focus on your work. You've got your debut script to finish. It's airing this Saturday. God, I'm so excited.

I tied my open hair into a bun, mentally preparing myself to draft the question in the script.

I began typing on my laptop, completely immersed in my work, and after what felt like hours, I finally finished the script and sent it to Mr. Goyal for a final review.

With today's work finally done, I shut my laptop, grabbed my handbag, and picked up a carry bag containing a black skirt neatly folded inside.

Today, I'm meeting Adya to return her skirt. I DM'd her asking where we could meet, and she sent me the address of a mall. I know the place, it's very expensive because of the branded stores there.

Anyway, I stepped out of my office and got myself an auto, because no way I was spending extra money on a cab.

After what felt like an eternity crawling through Delhi's traffic, I finally reached the mall. I paid the auto driver and walked in, carrying a bag in hand.

I navigated through the mall, taking three escalators to reach the café where Adya had asked me to meet her.

As I stepped into the café, the manager greeted me at the entrance with a warm smile.

"Hello, madam. Do you have a reservation? Under what name?" He asked politely.

"Yes, under Adya Singh," I replied.

"Ah, yes yes! Please come in, she's already waiting for you." He guided me into the café, which, honestly, had such a cool and different vibe. Every table was enclosed by wooden walls, giving a sense of privacy. I loved the concept.

He led me to a table where I instantly recognized Adya. I mean, who wouldn't? She's such a pretty woman. But what caught my attention more was the man sitting beside her.

As soon as Adya saw me, she shot up from her seat and walked over with a big smile, pulling me into a tight hug.

"Hello, Bhabhi!" she chirped.

My eyes widened at the way she addressed me, but before I could say anything, she pulled back and laughed awkwardly.

"Oh sorry! I don't know what came over me. Let me correct myself-hello, Ishika."

I let out a soft sigh, smiling at her.

"Hello, Adya. Nice to see you again."

"Come, have a seat! We were waiting for you. Let's order something to drink," Adya said, walking back to the table and settling down beside the man in a black hoodie.

As I stepped closer, the man lifted his head, and my legs froze, just one step away from the table, my eyes wide.

What is Sarthak doing here?

"Come on, Ishika, sit!" Adya smiled, before she seems to remember something. "Oh! I forgot to introduce you two though I guess you don't need an introduction. Sarthak bhai told me earlier that you're a journalist and you're going to interview him? Is that true?"

I gave a small, awkward smile. "Uh... yes. That's right."

"Well, what a small world, isn't it?" Adya chuckled.

"Ms. Ishika, you can sit. I don't bite, you know," Sarthak said, his tone cool as ever, noticing me still hesitating near the table.

"Yes, please sit, Ishika. Don't be so scared of him," Adya laughed. "He sounds cold, but he's not that bad. Actually, we were planning to go shopping together, but then you texted about returning the skirt, so I dragged him along. Sorry if that bothers you."

I took the seat across from them, giving her a polite smile as I sat down.

"Oh, that's not a problem at all. Sorry I disturbed your shopping plans. I had no idea," I said, my smile a little awkward, still trying to process Mr. Sarthak's sudden presence.

Adya chuckled, "You didn't disturb anything, Ishika. Chill, girl. Now that you're finally here, let's have something. Here's the menu, order yourself a drink or something to eat."

She handed me the menu, but I gently shook my head. "No thanks, Adya. I just came to return your skirt. I really have to go." I placed the carry bag on the table.

"What? Why so soon? You just got here!" she said with a pout. "I wanted to talk more... we already had such a great vibe together."

She wasn't wrong, Adya was genuinely sweet. From the first day, she'd been nothing but kind to me. Spending time with her wouldn't hurt.

But her brother, Sarthak keeps staring at me intensely. Is something wrong with my face?

"Adya, seems like your friend didn't quite like my presence," Sarthak spoke, his eyes locking straight with mine, sharp and unreadable.

"It's not like that..." I tried to explain, but my voice sounded weaker than I intended.

"Then what is it, Ishika?" he pressed. "If you're worried about getting home, we'll drop you. No big deal."

"Yeah, please," Adya chimed in, gently tugging my hand. "At least stay for a drink. Don't go just yet."

With that look on her face, I couldn't bring myself to say no.

"Okay, I'll stay," I finally said, settling back into my seat.

"Cool. Here, order yourself something to drink," Adya said, handing me the menu.

The moment I opened the menu, I regretted it.

A cappuccino for a thousand bucks? What the hell are they putting in it? Liquid gold? Even a basic black coffee was priced over a thousand. I scanned the menu desperately, trying to find something affordable. But apart from water, everything screamed luxury I wasn't ready to pay for.

"I'll just have a glass of water," I said, closing the menu with a smile. "I actually had lunch before coming, so I'm full."

I lied. I hadn't even touched food today. Meetings and scripts had kept me so busy, I didn't get the time. But no way was I going to admit that, not with him sitting right there, silently watching me.

"You had lunch this late? It's almost 7:30 in the evening," Adya pointed out, brows raised.

I gave her a small smile. "Well, journalism is a hectic profession, we barely get time to eat or sleep."

"Still, Ishika, you should take care of yourself," she said, her voice soft with concern. There was a small pause before she spoke again.

"Well I've never seen you on the news before. Which channel do you work for?"

"I work for News69," I replied. "But I haven't debuted yet. Mr. Sarthak's interview is going to be my first on the channel."

"Oh my god, that's amazing! Did you hear that, bhai? You'll be with her on her debut day!" Adya beamed. "Many, many congratulations on your debut, Ishika!"

"I didn't know this was your debut," Sarthak added, his voice a little less guarded. "Congrats."

A genuine smile broke across my face. "Thanks."

With that, Adya waved over the waiter to take our order. "I'll have a matcha," she said, then looked at both of us. "What about you, bhai? And you, Ishika?"

Before I could even open my mouth, Sarthak spoke up, "Two cold coffees for us."

The waiter scribbled it down on his notepad and walked away to get our order.

I turned to him, eyes wide in confusion.

"You should try the cold coffee here," he said casually. "It's their bestseller, and trust me, it's better than a glass of water. Anyway, I'm paying the bill, so I can't just let you sit here sipping on nothing."

"It's alright, Mr. Sarthak. I can pay for my own drink. You didn't have to," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.

I didn't like someone else paying the bill for me, especially not when that drink happened to be the most expensive one on the damn menu.

"Well, Ms. Ishika," he said coolly, "I don't let a woman pay when she's with me. Whether it's my sister, Adya or you."

His words shut me up. I opened my mouth to reply but found nothing.

Still I really shouldn't let him pay.

"Don't overthink it, Ishika. It's just a drink—bhai will pay, don't worry," Adya added with a light smile. So I gave in. Arguing any further would've just made things awkward.

"How's your ankle?" Sarthak asked after a pause, like he was trying to make conversation.

"It's better now," I replied simply.

"Did you see a doctor?"

"Yeah, I did. He said my foot was overstretched from sudden pressure. He gave me some meds and it's fine now," I explained.

He just nodded, and soon enough, our drinks arrived. From there Adya and I dove into conversation like we'd known each other for ages. We couldn't stop talking-fashion, skincare, and Adya's modelling stories. She knew so much and spoke with such passion, it was impossible not to be drawn in. She'd been in the modeling industry since a young age.

Somewhere in between the laughter and stories, we'd finished our drinks without even noticing and just like that, Adya and I had gone from casual acquaintances to something closer to real friends.

"Well, we didn't even realize how time flew," Adya said with a warm smile. "It was so nice talking to you, Ishika. Really. We should hang out more often."

"Sure, why not?" I replied with a soft chuckle.

"Bhai, let's go. I need to do some shopping now," she turned to Sarthak, who had been sitting quietly ever since he asked about my ankle.

"So you finally noticed I exist?" Sarthak quipped dryly as he signaled the waiter for the bill.

"Oh please, bhai," Adya laughed. "How could I forget my own brother? I just got a little carried away while chatting with Ishika."

Then she suddenly lit up, turning back to me. "Wait, why don't you come shopping with us? It'll be fun! Plus, you would need a classy suit for your debut. This is your moment, Ishika!"

"It's alright, Adya. I have plenty of suits. I don't need another one," I insisted gently.

I really did. I'd been preparing for this day for so long, collecting pieces just for that moment when I'd finally step into the studio, suit up, and face the camera.

"Come on, Ishika," Adya pouted playfully. "One more suit in your wardrobe won't hurt. Let's go!"

Before I could protest again, she grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the café, leaving Sarthak behind to settle the bill.

We stepped out into the mall, and I noticed Sarthak quietly slipping his hood over his head, followed by a sleek black face mask.

Ah, the price of being famous. Even something as simple as shopping couldn't be done without a disguise.

Adya led me straight into one of the most luxurious stores in the mall, and before I could even soak in the elegance of the place, a well-dressed saleswoman approached us with a bright smile.

"Welcome back, Adya ma'am. It’s been a while," she greeted warmly. Clearly, Adya was no stranger here. She looks like a regular customer.

"Sweta, my friend here needs something classy and hot for her debut day," Adya said, all enthusiasm. "Show us your best pieces."

Without wasting a second, Sweta began pulling out suits from the racks, each more stunning than the last.

The suits here looked fabulous. Tailored cuts, bold colors, every piece screaming power and elegance. But the price tags? They were enough to knock the air out of my lungs. One of these suits would cost me nearly an entire year's salary.

Before I could stop this shopping spiral Adya had thrown me into, the saleswoman pulled out a dark red suit with a matching mini skirt.

It was stunning. And the moment my eyes landed on it, I was in love.

"I think, Ishika, you should definitely go for something in this—" Adya started, but her phone began ringing from inside her purse.

She pulled it out with a sigh. "Ugh, I have to take this. You keep choosing for yourself, okay?"

With that, she walked out of the store to answer the call, leaving me standing there alone with her brother, Sarthak. Well I can ignore him.

"Madam, we've just received our new collection as well, let me bring a few pieces for you," the saleswoman said with a polite smile before walking off.

The moment she disappeared, I flipped over the price tag on the red suit, and my eyes nearly popped out of my sockets.

Two lakhs. Two freaking lakhs for a suit. No way I'm buying this!

That price tag alone could give me a heart attack. If I bought this, Mishri and I would be out on the streets—looking classy as hell, sure, but homeless and nonetheless.

Ye suit lenge to mai aur Mishri seedha footpath pe aajayenge.

[If I got this suit, me and Mishri will come straight on the footpath.]

"You like this one?" That familiar, deep voice came from right behind me.

I turned, and there he was—Sarthak—standing a little too close, hands tucked casually in his pockets, and his eyes fixed on me.

"No, I was just… looking," I said hesitantly, immediately glancing away.

"Well," he said, voice low and calm, "your eyes tell a different story." He paused for a second before adding, "If you like it, you should get it."

"No, I don't like any of them. I think we should just leave. I didn't even want a suit—Adya just kept insisting, so I came. Let's go, she must be outside." I turned to walk away when a firm, masculine hand gripped my wrist from behind.

"Well, can you do me a favour, Ms. Ishika?"

I spun around, startled, while my eyes locking with his—cold, unreadable, yet intense.

"What favour?" I asked hesitantly. He released my hand and glanced away for a beat before speaking again.

"You wanted me to agree to the interview. I did." He spoke, still not meeting my gaze.

"Now it's your turn. Get the red suit. I'm paying for it."

"Mr. Sarthak," I said, stunned, "it's not some coffee. That suit costs two lakhs."

"So?" he shrugged, finally locking eyes with me again. "I don't care if it costs a million."

I let out a breath, shaking my head. "I'm sorry, Mr. Sarthak. I can't accept that."

He tilted his head slightly, then turned and began walking toward the store's exit.

"Fine. Cancel the interview. I’m not doing it unless you accept my favour."

My jaw dropped.

Without thin

king, I reached out and grabbed his arm, his hands still buried casually in his pockets.

"You can't back out now. I've already told my boss you're coming in on Saturday!" I blurted, desperate.

"Now it depends on you, Ms. Ishika. Get the suit or just let the interview go away."

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