Author's POV

£ Delhi

€ 11:42 PM

The metro city Delhi, one of the most crowded city, and the capital of India, was as crowded as ever.

Some were already slept, and some were awake — enjoying the night life of the city.

But there was a person, who was wide awake, but enjoyment was far away from him.

A person could only see the expressions of worry on his handsome face.

Adhrit Mishra, who was almost running in the alleys, that led to his house.

His sneakers hit the pavement in frantic rhythm, sweat rolling down his temples, eyes scanning the deserted lanes.

He wasn’t just late.

He was deadly late.

He went to his friend's house, to discuss about some future plans, and the upcoming results of their MBA exams, but soon, out of nowhere, a plan got made up, and they both went out for a little trip with some of their other friends.

He lied at his home, that he was still at his friend's house, and he was regretting that now, because, he got extremely late.

His bike broke down, and his phone was also switched off.

He knew, by now, everyone at home would have got to know about the lie, and that was what made him worried.

"Mahadev, please save me...", he whispered, breath ragged. "I swear, no more lying — ever again."

The dim streetlights played across his face — sharp jawline, soft features, black and brown curls brushing against his forehead.

He was a boy of sincerity, clothed in chaos tonight.

His innocent, ocean-blue eyes shimmered with guilt and fear, as he sprinted through the shadows toward his home.

£ Mishra Nivas

Inside the living room, the tension was heavy as glass.

Namish Mishra, stern as ever, paced the floor with arms crossed. "This boy thinks rules don’t apply to him. He told me, he had to do very important discussion, and now he’s nowhere. Learnt even how to lie to his father..."

"Papa...", Arjun, his elder son, began gently, "he’s only twenty-one. No need to be this much harsh on him..."

Namish’s glare silenced him immediately.

Ruchi, Arjun's wife, stood quietly in the corner, biting her nails.

She was worried for Adhrit, because he was just like her younger brother.

Everyone was busy in their thinking, just when, the door creaked open.

Adhrit stepped in — breathless, heart pounding.

As soon as his eyes met with Namish's hardened one, his heart started pounding more pacefully.

He tried to explain with his buffering words, "Listen... I know, I’m late but — Papa, I swear—"

Namish’s expression hardened, and he stopped him to speak further, with the gesture of his hand.

He opened his mouth to lash out at him, but before the storm could fall—

"Enough."

Everyone, who was looking at Namish and Adhrit with worry, finally sighed in relief.

Gayatri Mishra, the matriarch, stood at the corridor’s end — dignified in her soft cotton saree, eyes sharp, behind her spectacles.

"Everyone, Go to your rooms. Is it time to argue? It’s already very late...", she said simply.

"And Adi is also home now, so no need to exaggerate the matter...", she added sternly.

Namish tried to say something, but she stopped him with the gesture of her hand — the same way he did before.

"Go to your room. Your wife, Mamta is unwell, so you should be with her... Leave now...", she ordered.

No one dared to defy her.

Even Namish exhaled, and turned away, muttering under his breath, "These people...!!"

Arjun, and Ruchi looked at Adhrit momentarily, and then went from there.

Adhrit blinked in disbelief, then turned to his grandmother, and hugged her tightly, "Dadi, my lovely dadi, you’re a saviour."

"Don’t test my patience again..", she whispered. "I saved you tonight. Next time, you’re on your own naughty boy...."

He grinned with dimples flashing, and said kissing her cheek, "Promise."

Gayatri kissed his forehead lovingly, after which, both of them headed towards their rooms.

As soon as he entered his room, he fell on his bed with laziness.

He was so tired, that he didn't even care to change his clothes.

Curled up under his duvet, he stared at the ceiling — a beautiful smile lingering on his lips.

Sure, his father was strict, but he loved them — all of them.

This house, despite its rules, was filled with a kind of safety, and a lot of love, which he understood very well.

He glanced at the framed photo on his study table — his entire family standing together in traditional clothes, with beautiful smiles adorning their lips, during Diwali celebration.

He smiled wholeheartedly, as his heart got filled with warmth.

In the outside world, he was everyone’s favorite — the boy with a heart full of mischief and charm.

But here, in his home, he was just a boy, who knew, he was loved, even if that love came wrapped in scoldings.

Slowly, he drifted into sleep, and in the silence of the night, peace finally returned to his ocean-blue eyes.

£ Mehrotra Mansion

The whole grand, and beautiful mansion was illuminated with lights, because inside, a business party was going on.

Though midnight, but the night was still young here.

Older businessmans were busy in talking with each other, while the younger ones were busy in drinking and dancing.

In the center of the lavish living room, sunk into a plush velvet sofa, sat Anaisha Mehrotra — the crown jewel of the family, the heiress of the empire, and the storm in disguise.

Her long, dark hair fell in waves over her one shoulder, catching the light like strands of silk.

Thick lashes framed her sharp brown eyes, narrowed in full concentration, as her manicured fingers danced across her iPhone screen.

The world around her ceased to matter, when she was immersed in her digital dominion.

A quiet shuffle broke the silence.

One of the maids approached her nervously, holding a tray with a chilled glass of Red Wine.

With trembling hands, she extended the glass toward her.

Anaisha, without even lifting her gaze, reached out to get the hold on that glass — but her hand missed it, knocking the glass down.

The juice spilled across her cream-colored designer dress, leaving behind a clearly visible red spot.

First, her eyes widened, and then, just in a second, anger flashed in her eyes.

The very next moment, she stood up from her place, her voice sharp and venomous, "Are you blind? Can't you see?"

Before the maid could stammer an apology, she raised her hand, and slapped her across the face.

The sound of slap echoed in the hall, despite the loud music.

Everybody's attention flickered towards her.

Music stopped.

The maid recoiled, stunned.

"Do you even know, how expensive this outfit is? It’s worth more than your entire year’s salary!" she screamed.

Just then, hurried footsteps approached.

Jeet Mehrotra, Anaisha’s elder brother, walked in, followed closely by his wife, Preeti.

Jeet took in the scene — his baby sister standing with angry expressions, the maid trembling before her, and the spilled juice soaking into the rug.

He asked gently, "What happened baby sister? Are you okay?"

Anaisha's gaze shifted from that shivering maid, to her brother.

She looked at him, her anger still bubbling. "This useless woman ruined my favorite dress! She can't even hold a glass properly. Why is she even doing a job here? Have our standards fallen so low that, we are employing such useless people?"

Jeet’s eyes flared.

One cold glare from him, and the maid backed away further, her hands clasped in silent apology.

Preeti stepped forward, her voice soft but firm. "Ana… it was just a mistake. She’s older than you. You could’ve—"

"Are you taking her side now?", Anaisha snapped, eyes narrowing, and her tone turning a note lower than before.

Jeet didn’t even let Preeti respond.

"Don't interfere in this matter Preeti... You know that, I am very protective about my sister, and I don't want to hurt you as well, so just stay out of it...", his voice soft, yet firm enough, to shut Preeti up.

She was quiet, knowing Jeet didn't want to say anything to her, or hurt her.

The tense silence broke when a deep, commanding voice echoed from the hallway.

"Enough of this nonsense...!!"

Pranay Mehrotra, patriarch of the Mehrotra empire, stepped in there, dressed in his usual crisp tailored suit. The years had silvered his hair but only sharpened his gaze.

Being a silent watcher, he was watching, and hearing them, since the very beginning, but when he felt, the matter was getting dragged more than necessary, he decided to intervene, and stepped forward.

His eyes rested on the maid, who stood with folded hands, her eyes begging silently.

"You’re fired", he declared, his tone devoid of emotion.

"Sir, please…", the maid pleaded. "I’ve served this house for over ten years…"

"Exactly... That's the point...!! Ten years, and still incapable of basic service?", he cut her off coldly. "Leave."

She choked back tears, bowed her head, and walked away — her steps heavy, her dignity shattered.

Anaisha smiled with satisfaction.

The whole hall, which fell silent, because of the drama, again echoed with loud music, with Pranay's single gesture of hand.

Everyone got engrossed in the party once again.

Obviously, they all belonged to high class society, and none of them cared about a maid getting fired.

A person's entire life got ruined, but for those people, enjoying the party was more important.

Anyway, it was very rare for the Mehrotra family to throw a party, so none of them wanted to waste their time on anything else — something, which was totally useless in their eyes.

Pranay ignored all those people, and his gaze stopped at Anaisha — his only daughter — his princess.

He smilingly placed his hand over her head — his touch, gentle and full of warmth.

The warmth, which immediately spreaded in her heart, and a beautiful smile made it's own place on her lips.

He caressed her hairs lovingly, and asked with affection, "Is my princess okay?"

"More than ever dad...", she replied in a chirping voice, which brought smiled to everyone's face.

Barkha, her aunt, who just came there, and her gaze immediately fell on her dress, which was wet with wine.

She said with concern, "Your dress is wet Ana... Go, and change it hurriedly, otherwise you will get sick..."

Anaisha looked up at her, and said smiling, "I will be fine Bua... Don't worry much about me...."

"And why shouldn't I worry about you? Your immune system is weak to water... I don't want to see you fall sick, so go hurriedly, and change your clothes...", she said, scolding her lovingly.

Anaisha laughed softly, saying, "Ok bua... I am going..."

"It's already very late, and the party is already boring... We will wrap it up soon, so don't need to come back, and stress your feets... Sleep after changing....", Jeet instructed — his voice softer than usual, and full of love.

Anaisha smiled, and nodding her head, went in the direction of staircase, to go to her room upstairs.

Anaisha Mehrotra had grown up like a pampered flame — dazzling, bright, and dangerous.

After her mother passed away during childbirth, Pranay never remarried. His world revolved around Anaisha — protecting her, indulging her, shielding her from even the slightest discomfort.

Jeet, her elder brother, practically raised her alongside Pranay. Eight years older, he had become her second guardian — a brother, a protector, and a fierce enabler of her every whim. And between the two of them, Anaisha had never once heard the word no.

She entered her room, which was lavish, and decorated beautifully.

The room's everything, every interior screamed richness and royalty.

She entered the walk-in closet, and came outside, after changing that dress into a comfortable nightwear.

She took a look of herself in the mirror, and smiling satisfyingly, she went towards the king sized bed.

After turning off the lights, she laid on the bed, and closed her eyes to sleep.

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Hope you loved this chapter! Until the next one…

With love,

Your Author