OFC ROOM..ARAV

The sleek home office on the second floor of the Malhotra Mansion was a world of its own — minimalistic, modern, and perfectly organized.

Except for the man currently pacing inside it.

Arav Malhotra had a Bluetooth earpiece hooked into one ear, a black pen in hand, and his laptop screen lit up with spreadsheets, meeting notes, and one blinking Zoom notification he had just minimized.

"Nidhi," he said sharply, his voice clipped and to the point. "Did you finalize any names for the assistant position?"

The voice of Nidhi — his HR head — crackled through the earpiece. Calm, composed, and ever-efficient.

"Yes, sir. I've shortlisted seven candidates from the last two days. All female applicants, as per your earlier preference for better communication balance."

Arav rubbed his temple. "Fine. I don't care about the gender — I care about discipline. I need someone who doesn't need training every hour. I've had enough juggling marketing reports, vendor issues, and client calls alone."

Nidhi chuckled lightly, "Understood, sir. You'll have to conduct a few interviews tomorrow morning. I've scheduled them here at the office — 9:30 a.m. onward. I'll send you the profiles in a few minutes."

"Good. Make sure the applications are worth my time," he muttered before disconnecting the call.

He sat back in his high-backed leather chair and pulled open his inbox as a new email from Nidhi appeared.

Subject: Shortlisted Assistant Profiles – Interview Round 1

He clicked it, eyes quickly scanning through the attached CVs.

Name: Sneha Rao
Name: Trisha Mathur
Name: Meher Sharma
Name: Karishma Dev...

He paused.

Meher Sharma.

The name sounded faintly familiar. But it was too common. He skimmed her CV:

"B.Tech in AI/ML | Quick learner | Seeking a role to grow and support leadership..."
Applied for: Personal Assistant to CEO
Location: Bangalore
Status: Available Immediately

He tapped the file once to open it fully... but was interrupted by a call from the finance team.

Arav closed the laptop, attention diverted, never realizing that the girl whose world had already collided with his family... was now about to walk straight into his office.

...

SOMEWHERE at meher house

The morning sun peeked in through the pale curtains of Meher's room, painting golden lines across the floor. A breeze lifted the edges of her dupatta that lay across the bed, swaying gently — like her spirit, slowly coming back to life.

Today was the day.

Meher stood in front of the mirror in a soft pastel-blue kurti and ankle-length black pants, her hair tied in a sleek low ponytail. Her face was fresh, minimal makeup, but her eyes held something new...

Fire.

She looked at herself — not as the girl who walked barefoot on roads.
Not as the burden her aunt claimed she was.
But as a young woman determined to own her story.

Just then, a knock on the door broke her thoughts.

She opened it to find Tanya, arms crossed, with her signature smirk.

"Wow," Tanya drawled. "All dressed up like a corporate queen. Is it some fashion parade or another 'drama walkout' today?"

Before Meher could respond, her aunt's voice echoed from behind.
"Let her be, Tanya. After all, one interview doesn't make a career. But sure, dress like you belong there. Maybe someone will believe it."

Meher's hand gripped the door tighter — but this time, not in fear.

She took a step forward, eyes locked with her aunt's. Her voice calm, sharp, and confident.

"One interview may not make a career, chachi ji... but one insult won't break me either. You've done enough of that already."

"You see a burden when you look at me. But tomorrow, when you hear my name — it won't be from this house. It'll be from a place I built on my own."

Tanya blinked, clearly not expecting that.

Her aunt stood still, lips parted — for once, no comeback.

Meher smiled faintly, not out of pride... but peace.

"And just so you know... I'm not dressing to impress. I'm dressing to represent myself — with confidence you both can't even fake."

She turned without waiting for a reply, picked up her small purse, and walked past them — graceful, steady, proud.

Downstairs, her uncle was already waiting by the door.

He looked up, stunned. "Wow... Meher. You look—"

She smiled. "Confident?"

He nodded, a grin spreading across his face. "Exactly that."

He held out the car keys. "Let me drop you."

She shook her head. "No, Chachu. I'll manage today. I want to reach there... on my own."

He looked at her for a long moment, then gently placed the keys back.

"Go show them who you are," he said.

And with that, Meher Sharma stepped out — not just for an interview, but for a brand new beginning.

AARAV OFC.

The golden evening light filtered through the tall windows of Malhotras Innovation's Bangalore headquarters. Inside the CEO's cabin, the air was anything but calm.

Arav Malhotra was seated in his high-backed chair, sleeves rolled to his elbows, jaw locked in frustration. A neat stack of resumes lay on his desk — now more like a pile of professional letdowns.

He clicked his pen, leaned back, and muttered under his breath, "Is it really that hard to find one capable assistant?"

The HR head, Nidhi, knocked lightly and entered with a tablet in hand. "Sir, last candidate for the day."

Arav didn't look up. "Hopefully this one doesn't fumble over her own name."

Nidhi gave a small smile and tapped on the screen. "Name's Meher Sharma. B.Tech in AI/ML. Seems overqualified for the role, but... her cover letter was worth shortlisting."

The moment the name was spoken, Arav paused.

Meher Sharma.

Something tugged at his memory. Where had he heard that name? Hospital? His mother's voice? He couldn't quite place it.

"Send her in," he said shortly.

—

Outside, Meher adjusted the sleeves of her soft beige kurti and took a deep breath. Her palms were slightly damp, her heart drumming.

Be calm. Be clear. You're not here to impress — you're here to claim your space.

She stepped in.

And then stopped.

The man behind the massive desk, sharply dressed and exuding raw authority, looked up from his tablet.

Their eyes met.

Her breath caught.

There he was. The same Arav Malhotra she had seen years ago at her college tech summit — the chief guest, the son of the judge, the unreachable star in a black suit.

And now... he was her interviewer.

Arav studied her carefully.

There was something hauntingly familiar about the girl in front of him. Not just from her resume — but from somewhere else. A face he couldn't forget.

"Sit," he said, voice low but firm.

She obeyed, carefully sitting across from him.

He didn't waste time.

"Miss Sharma. You hold a degree in AI/ML. Why apply for a personal assistant role at Malhotras Innovation?"

She met his gaze without flinching.

"Because right now, I need a role that gives me stability. Growth can come in any direction, but survival comes first."

Arav nodded slowly.

"And you believe survival means dropping your core field?"

"No," she replied. "I believe survival means evolving — even if it means starting from scratch."

Something about her words stuck in his mind.

He continued, curious now.

"Tell me. What makes you think you can handle assisting someone like me?"

Her eyes flickered — just for a second — with amusement.

"Because I listen. I learn fast. And I don't let pressure break me."

She paused, then added quietly but confidently:

"And because I've faced worse things in life than deadlines and temper."

That line.

It hit him somewhere unexpected.

For a few seconds, he didn't respond — just observed her.

Composed. Clear. No unnecessary flattery. Just honesty with strength.

He leaned back.

"That'll be all for now, Miss Sharma."

Meher stood up, nodded once.

Just before turning to leave, she stopped.
Then turned back slightly and said:

"Thank you for the opportunity. Whether or not I get this role — I'm glad I met someone who knows how to ask the right questions."

She exited the room, leaving behind a silence heavier than before.

Arav stared at the door long after she left.

For the first time all day... he wasn't frustrated.

He was intrigued.

.......

The sun had dipped low behind the skyline of Bangalore as the glow of the city started to rise. Inside Malhotras Innovation, most employees were packing up, but the top floor remained lit — where the CEO still sat in his cabin, lost in thought.

Arav Malhotra stared at the door long after Meher Sharma had left.
Her words, her eyes — something about her had left a mark.

He didn't know why. He didn't even know how.

But something about her... felt unfinished.

Just then, a loud knock banged against his cabin door.

"Oye, CEO sahib! You gonna let us in or should we break the glass?" came a playful voice from outside.

Arav blinked out of his thoughts.

"Door's open," he said, leaning back in his chair.

The door swung wide open and in walked his two childhood friends — the ones who had been by his side through every phase of life.

1. Kabir Khanna

2. Rishi Mehta

Karan flopped onto the couch dramatically.
"Man, your office is so boring. Where are the colors? The plants? The human emotion?"

Arav rolled his eyes.

"I don't need plants. I need productivity."

Rishabh chuckled, grabbing a bottle of water.

 "Translation: he's had a bad day."

Arav leaned forward, elbows on the table. 

"Worse than bad. I've interviewed six people for the assistant role. All of them either wanted a coffee machine or my chair."

"And the seventh?" Karan asked, wiggling his eyebrows. 

"Was she pretty at least?"

Arav didn't answer immediately.

He picked up the resume still lying open on his desk and tapped her name.

Meher Sharma.

"She was different."

Karan leaned in. 

"Different how? Like weird-different or you're-thinking-about-her-while-talking-to-us different?"

Arav gave him a deadpan look.

"I don't even know her."

"Doesn't matter. That's how it starts," Rishabh teased, smirking.

"She was calm. Composed. Didn't oversell. She just... knew what she wanted," 

Arav muttered, surprising even himself with how much he remembered.

Karan suddenly grinned. "Ladka gaya," he whispered to Rishabh.

"Completely," Rishabh agreed with mock seriousness.

"I'm ignoring both of you," Arav said dryly.

But something about that interview — and that girl — refused to leave his mind.

He didn't believe in coincidences. But he was starting to believe in curiosity.

...

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