The moment Om held the knife over the fire for a few seconds, something unbelievable happened. A faint blue aura suddenly wrapped around it—and within seconds, all the rust and grime melted away as if it had never existed. What remained in his hand left both him and Maya stunned.
The knife now looked brand new, like it had just been crafted by a master. Its surface gleamed, and its edge… razor-sharp. It looked like it wouldn't even need pressure—just a light touch could draw blood.
Om had sensed something unusual about it the very first time he saw it—that strange aura hidden within. That's why he'd bought it, even though it looked like a useless old piece of junk at the time. And now? The same knife he picked up for almost nothing had turned into something worth a fortune.
Maya, on the other hand, was frozen. She just stood there, staring at the knife with wide, shining eyes, like she'd forgotten how to blink. Finally, unable to hold back her curiosity, she spoke,
"Sir… this… this doesn't feel like an ordinary knife. Just looking at it gives me a strange feeling."
Om smiled slightly.
"Oh? You like it? Then here—it's yours now."
He extended the knife toward her.
Maya didn't say a word at first. She just took it carefully into her hands, almost like she was afraid it might disappear. Then she looked up at Om, her eyes filling with tears—like a child who'd just been handed their most precious wish.
"Really, boss… thank you. Thank you so much."
Seeing her happy, Om felt a quiet sense of relief. Somewhere inside, he hoped this was the start of something new for her—a chance to leave behind all the pain she had carried for so long.
Just then, Om's phone rang.
He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and picked up.
"Hello… Anshika?"
On the other side, Anshika was driving, her car speeding down the highway. She smiled as she spoke,
"Om, how many times do I have to tell you? Just call me Anshika. We're the same age—you make me sound old with all that 'ji' stuff."
"Alright, alright. Now tell me, what's up?"
"Umm… I need a favor. It's urgent."
"Okay. Go on."
"So, I'm heading out to a site for work right now, and I just got a call from my cousin. She's coming to the city today for college—her flight's about to land in half an hour. I was supposed to pick her up, but it completely slipped my mind. Seema's out with her dad too… so I don't have anyone else to ask. Can you please go pick her up and bring her to the office? I wouldn't have asked if it wasn't important—but you're the closest one right now. Please?"
She paused, waiting for his answer.
Om knew she wouldn't ask without a reason.
"Alright. No problem. Just tell me her name and the timing—I'll pick her up."
"Oh, thank you so much, Om. Seriously, you're the best. Her flight lands in thirty minutes. And… just a heads-up—she's a bit spoiled. Don't take anything she says too seriously. Her name is Nisha Batra."
"Nisha Batra… got it."
"Thanks again. Just drop her at the office—I'll meet you there."
"Okay."
Om hung up the call and let out a small sigh.
"Girls… seriously. Anyway, let's go."
He slipped his phone back into his pocket, then pulled out a white card from another pocket and handed it to Maya.
"Maya, go find a place you like—something comfortable. If you like it, just pay with this card. The password is 1122. And get yourself some good clothes too. I've got something to take care of—I'll head out now."
He turned to leave, but Maya quickly stopped him, a little unsure.
"But… do you want me to choose your house too?"
Om turned back with a soft smile.
"Don't worry about that. Just listen to your heart while choosing. I trust you."
And with that, he left.
Maya stood there, watching him go—silent, but thoughtful.
A while later, Om stood outside the airport, leaning against his car as he waited.
His mind, however, was somewhere else.
"Well… things are pretty good between me, Seema, and Anshika. But that night… I was a bit harsh with Supriya. Maybe I should meet her and clear things up. What if I actually hurt her? It's been days since I last saw her at the clinic… she hasn't even tried contacting me either. That's not like her."
He sighed lightly.
"Yeah… I should go meet her. No point upsetting girls for no reason. And she's not a bad person anyway."
Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice someone approaching.
A girl walked toward him—wearing a short pink skirt and a white t-shirt that barely covered her upper body, a bag slung over her shoulder and another in her hand. She was stunning. Heads turned everywhere she passed—people couldn't stop staring or whispering about her.
But her eyes were fixed on Om.
He stood there holding a board with "Nisha" written on it—yet he didn't even look at her.
She called out,
"Driver! Hey, driver!"
Om heard her… but ignored it.
He wasn't a driver.
That only made her angrier.
She walked straight up to him and snapped,
"Hey, driver! Are you blind? Or just dumb?"
Om slowly lifted his head and looked at her—but said nothing.
He remembered what Anshika had said—she's a bit spoiled. He had no interest in arguing.
But the moment Nisha saw his face… she froze for a second.
He was… unexpectedly handsome.
For a brief moment, she just stared at him, almost lost. Then she quickly snapped out of it, regaining her attitude.
Shoving her bags toward him, she said in an irritated tone,
"I'm Nisha—the one you're here to pick up. And you must be from my sister's company. So stop acting pricey and do your job."
Om didn't react. Not even a flicker.
He simply took her bags and started placing them in the trunk.
The more he ignored her, the more it irritated her.
Under her breath, she muttered,
"Showing me attitude, huh… I'll make sure you remember your place. Just a cheap servant…"
"No idea why my sister hires people this cheap… looks like she just picked him for his face. I mean, he does look good… yeah, that must be it."
Nisha muttered under her breath as she slid into the car, irritation clear in her voice.
Om didn't react. Not even a glance.
He quietly loaded her luggage, got into the driver's seat, and started the car toward Anshika's office. The entire ride passed in silence—Om didn't say a single word. He had no interest in getting into an argument with her.
But Nisha? She kept stealing angry glances at him the whole way.
At one point, she was even suspicious—what if he tries something? What if he robs me on the way?
The moment the car stopped in front of the office, Nisha quickly stepped out, clutching her small purse, her attitude still intact. Without even turning back properly, she snapped at him,
"Bring my luggage inside. Quickly."
Om stepped out without a word, took her bags, and carried them in.
As soon as the security guard saw him doing that, he rushed over, clearly worried.
"Sir! Why are you carrying all this? Please, give it to me—I'll take it. You don't need to do this."
Without waiting, the guard gently took the luggage from Om's hands.
Om smiled politely.
"Thanks, uncle. Please place it in the guest room."
With that, Om walked toward the reception desk.
The receptionist looked up as he approached.
"The girl who just came in—please take her to the guest room so she can rest. And Miss Anshika might have left some files for me… please bring all of them to my office."
He paused for a second, thinking.
"Actually… forget it. I'll come tomorrow. Just make sure everything is ready by then."
Without wasting another moment, Om turned around and walked out of the office, got into his car, and drove away.
He had no intention of spending even a second more around that rude girl.
Meanwhile, Anshika had just finished her work and returned to the office.
She looked around for Om, but the receptionist informed her that he had already left.
A faint disappointment settled on her face.
Still, pushing her feelings aside, she headed toward the guest room to meet her cousin.
The moment she entered, Nisha jumped up and wrapped her arms around her tightly.
"Heyyy, Anshu di! I missed you!"
Anshika laughed, hugging her back, amused by her childish excitement.
"Arre, Nishu… you haven't changed at all. Started your drama the moment you arrived, huh? Did you eat anything? And was the journey okay?"
But the moment those words left her mouth, Nisha pulled back, her mood flipping instantly.
"What, di? First you don't even come to pick me up… and then you send some useless servant who doesn't even know how to talk properly!"
Anshika frowned, confused.
"Servant? But I sent Om to pick you up…"
Then suddenly, something clicked.
Her eyes widened.
She quickly pulled out her phone, opened a photo, and showed it to Nisha.
"Was it… him?"
Nisha looked at the screen—and her irritation only grew.
"Yes, di! That's the same arrogant guy. But why do you have his photo on your phone?"
Anshika smacked her own forehead lightly.
"You silly girl! He's not a servant—he's my business partner. He just doesn't like showing off his status like others."
She sighed, already guessing what must have happened.
"From what you're saying… your first meeting didn't go well, did it? Nishu, I've been trying so hard to impress him… everything was finally going smoothly—and now it feels like you've ruined it all."
For a moment, Nisha was actually taken aback.
He's… not a servant? He's the owner?
But just as quickly, her attitude snapped back into place.
"Huh. Di, stop being so crazy about him. You can get way better guys—like actual princes. Even if he's your partner, he can't compete with us when it comes to money. Just forget about him. There are plenty of guys waiting for you anyway… my dear sister."
But even after hearing all that, Anshika's expression didn't change.
The disappointment stayed right where it was.