Delhi mornings usually carried a rhythm Khushi Kumari Gupta loved.
Street vendors announcing fresh samosas.
Auto drivers arguing over fares.
The smell of chai floating through warm air.
But today the world sounded… distant.
Khushi sat near the bus window clutching the strap of her worn handbag as the vehicle rattled toward South Delhi's corporate district.
Her mind replayed the previous day in relentless loops.
Losing her job.
Crying outside the café like a fool.
And then—
Him.
Arnav Singh Raizada.
Even thinking his name made her spine straighten instinctively.
She shook her head quickly.
"No, Khushi," she murmured under her breath. "You are not going to turn into one of those girls who loses their mind over a tall businessman."
The elderly woman beside her raised an eyebrow.
Khushi gave an awkward smile and looked out the window again.
But the thoughts wouldn't stop.
The way he had appeared outside the café as if he had stepped out of the evening shadows themselves.
The quiet authority in his voice.
The surprising softness when he handed her the handkerchief.
And the words she still couldn't fully process.
"I won't let anything happen to you."
Her fingers tightened around the edge of her bag.
What did that even mean?
She had replayed the moment all night.
Part of her insisted it was just kindness.
Another part whispered something stranger—something deeper she didn't dare believe.
Because men like Arnav Singh Raizada didn't just appear in the lives of girls like her.
The bus screeched to a halt.
Khushi blinked as the towering glass building of AR Designs Headquarters rose into view.
Her stomach dropped instantly.
"Oh… no."
The building was enormous.
Not just tall—intimidating.
A sleek tower of steel and reflective glass that caught the sunlight like a blade pointed toward the sky.
People in tailored suits walked in and out with brisk confidence.
Nobody looked lost.
Nobody looked like they had cried outside a café yesterday.
Nobody looked like Khushi.
She stepped off the bus slowly, staring up at the entrance.
"This was a mistake," she whispered.
Behind her, someone bumped her shoulder lightly.
"Move, please."
Khushi startled and hurried toward the entrance before she could lose her nerve entirely.
Inside, the lobby was even more intimidating.
Marble floors polished to mirror brightness. Minimalist décor.
A large digital wall displaying AR Designs' latest projects—fashion lines, architecture, luxury collaborations.
Khushi felt like she had stepped into a different universe.
What am I doing here?
She adjusted her dupatta nervously.
And then—
"Excuse me… are you Khushi?"
The voice was warm.
Gentle.
Khushi turned.
The woman standing there carried an elegance that instantly softened the room around her.
She wore a simple yet graceful sari, her expression kind, eyes glowing with quiet warmth.
Khushi blinked.
"Yes… I am."
The woman smiled.
"I'm Anjali Raizada."
Khushi froze.
Her brain took a moment to process the surname.
Raizada.
As in—
Arnav Singh Raizada.
"Oh!" Khushi straightened quickly. "Namaste!"
Anjali laughed softly.
"You look like you're about to faint. Please relax."
Khushi's cheeks flushed.
"I'm sorry… this place is just… very big."
Anjali's expression softened even more.
"Yes," she said gently. "My brother tends to create that effect."
Khushi blinked again.
Brother.
Before she could respond, a loud voice burst across the lobby.
"ANJALI DI! Did she come?!"
Khushi turned just in time to see a whirlwind approaching.
A tall young man wearing a wildly patterned shirt jogged toward them with the enthusiasm of someone who had just discovered caffeine for the first time.
"HA! I knew she would show up!" he declared dramatically.
Anjali sighed.
"Nand Kishore."
He grinned proudly.
"Yes, that is my full name. But friends call me NK because it sounds cooler."
He turned to Khushi with theatrical flair.
"And you must be Khushi. The famous Khushi."
Khushi blinked.
"Famous?"
NK nodded gravely.
"Yes. Anyone who survives ASR's attention automatically becomes famous."
Anjali elbowed him lightly.
"Don't scare her."
"I'm not scaring her," NK protested. "I'm educating her."
Khushi let out a tiny laugh despite herself.
Something about NK's chaotic energy instantly cut through the tension inside her chest.
Anjali noticed the shift and smiled warmly.
"See? Already better."
Khushi followed Anjali through the gleaming corridor, trying not to gape at the sheer size of the office. She clutched her folder tighter, her nerves fluttering.
Anjali glanced at her, a gentle smile forming.
"Khushi ji… may I tell you something?"
Khushi blinked. "Ji?"
Anjali exchanged a quick look with NK before continuing.
"Chote rarely—rarely—hires anyone personally.
When he does, HR informs us immediately. It's standard protocol."
Khushi stopped mid-step. "Personally? But… I just met him yesterday."
NK leaned forward, eyes wide with mischief.
"Exactly! He hasn't done this for anyone in years. Usually people go through four interviews, background checks, probation… the whole circus."
Anjali nodded. "But for you… Chote called HR directly. His exact words were—" she lifted her fingers dramatically—
"'Hire her. Paperwork by morning. Onboard her in the executive wing.'"
Khushi's lips parted. Her heartbeat stumbled.
"Executive wing? But I—I'm just a junior assistant…"
"Not anymore," NK said, grinning. "When ASR points at someone, they don't stay 'junior' for long."
Khushi's breath caught. She couldn't decide if she should be flattered, nervous… or run.
NK nudged her lightly. "Relax, yaar. If he wanted to eat you alive, he wouldn't have given you an office."
Anjali swatted him. "NK!"
Khushi managed a weak smile, but her heart was thumping too loudly.
Why would a man like Arnav Singh Raizada… choose her?
Anjali softened her tone.
"Don't worry, Khushi ji. Chote isn't… unkind. Intense, yes. Impatient, absolutely. But he must have seen something in you."
Khushi lowered her gaze, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I don't understand why he'd do that."
NK shrugged theatrically.
"Maybe you're special?"
Anjali swatted him lightly, but her smile remained.
"Whatever the reason, Khushi ji… just do your job well. Chote values capability above everything."
Khushi nodded, but her stomach twisted.
If Arnav Singh Raizada didn't make personal exceptions…
Why had he made one for her?
And why did it suddenly feel less like a promotion
and more like she had stepped into someone else's plan?
NK leaned closer conspiratorially.
"Important survival tips for working here," he whispered loudly. "Rule one: never interrupt ASR during a meeting."
Khushi nodded slowly.
"Rule two: never ask him personal questions."
She nodded again.
"Rule three: if he starts speaking very softly… run."
Khushi burst out laughing before she could stop herself.
Even Anjali covered her smile.
"You're impossible," she told NK.
He bowed dramatically.
"Thank you. I try."
For the first time that morning, Khushi felt her nerves loosen slightly.
Maybe this place wouldn't swallow her alive after all.
Maybe she could survive working here.
Maybe—
The elevator doors opened behind them.
And the atmosphere in the lobby changed instantly.
Employees straightened.
Conversations stopped mid-sentence.
Footsteps slowed.
Khushi didn't even need to turn to know why.
But she did anyway.
Arnav Singh Raizada stepped out of the elevator.
Dark suit. Perfect posture. Expression unreadable.
He walked forward with calm, measured strides as if the building itself belonged to him.
Which… technically it did.
Khushi's breath caught.
She had seen him before.
But here—inside his world—he looked different.
More powerful.
More distant.
More dangerous.
His gaze moved across the lobby once.
Then stopped.
On her.
Just for a second.
A micro-glance.
So quick it might have been imagined.
But Khushi felt it like a spark traveling down her spine.
NK whispered beside her.
"And that… is the storm."
----
Arnav's presence rippled through the lobby like a shift in air pressure—subtle, invisible, but impossible to ignore.
Conversations resumed around them, but softer.
Movements continued, but more controlled.
Even NK straightened, smoothing his outrageous shirt as if that would make a difference.
Khushi instinctively lowered her gaze.
She didn't know why.
His eyes had only grazed her for a second.
A fraction of a second.
But the weight of that brief look lingered on her skin like a touch she wasn't prepared for.
Anjali stepped forward, composed and warm.
"Chote," she greeted him gently.
He gave her a quiet nod, expression softening just slightly. "Di."
His tone—still stoic—carried a warmth he didn't offer to anyone else.
Then his gaze shifted.
Back to Khushi.
Just a glance.
But this time, heavier.
Khushi's heart skipped, stumbled, then tried to race ahead of itself.
Anjali sensed the tension before Khushi could even understand it. "This is Khushi," she said simply.
Khushi straightened, trying to speak—Namaste, or thank you for the opportunity, or I promise I'm not completely incompetent—but her mouth forgot how to form words.
Arnav's expression didn't change.
But something in the air around him tightened.
NK nudged her lightly, whispering, "Say something before he thinks we broke you."
Khushi snapped upright. "N-Namaste!"
Her voice came out too loud.
Too bright.
Too… Khushi.
Arnav's brow lifted by one millimeter. Not in annoyance. More like… surprise.
Then—
Something flashed in his eyes.
Gone before she could decipher it.
"Come upstairs," he said simply, turning without waiting for a response.
Khushi blinked.
NK patted her shoulder dramatically.
"Congratulations. He did not scowl. That means he doesn't hate you yet."
Yet?!
Anjali swatted NK again. "Stop scaring her."
"I'm preparing her!"
Khushi wasn't sure if she should laugh or faint.
They followed Arnav toward the private elevator.
Employees stepped out of the way automatically.
Doors parted instantly.
The space inside was sleek, minimal, utterly quiet.
Khushi hesitated before stepping in.
She felt like she didn't belong there. Like she might smudge something just by existing too close to it.
Arnav glanced sideways, waiting.
The look wasn't impatient.
It wasn't cold.
It was simply… a look that expected obedience.
She stepped in quickly.
The doors slid shut.
Silence enclosed them.
Khushi stood in the far corner, clutching her bag tightly, staring straight ahead like a soldier at inspection.
She could feel him there.
Tall.
Still.
Focused.
Her heart thudded so loudly she was sure it echoed in the elevator.
NK leaned close to her ear and whispered, "Don't worry. He won't bite. Most days."
Khushi almost choked.
Arnav turned his head slightly.
NK snapped upright instantly and whistled silently at the ceiling.
Anjali covered her mouth to hide a laugh.
Arnav's eyes narrowed—not in anger, but in that quiet, unreadable way of his.
Then, suddenly…
The elevator jerked slightly as it rose to the executive floors.
Khushi stumbled.
Her foot slipped.
Her bag nearly fell.
She felt herself tipping—
A strong hand shot out.
Arnav caught the strap of her bag before it hit the ground, steadying her balance just enough that she could catch herself.
Khushi froze.
Arnav froze too, hand still lightly holding the strap.
For a heartbeat—just one—she felt the warmth of his presence wash over her like a sensory shock.
Then he released the strap as if it had burned him.
"You should be careful," he said quietly.
His voice was low.
Controlled.
But there was a faint undercurrent—something that made her pulse stutter.
Khushi swallowed. "S-sorry."
"It's fine."
Another surprise: his tone was even softer this time, barely audible.
If she hadn't been standing so close, she would've missed it entirely.
NK waggled his eyebrows at Anjali silently.
Anjali rolled her eyes but smiled.
The elevator doors parted with a soft chime.
Arnav walked out first, impeccably composed again, heading toward a hallway of glass-walled conference rooms and sleek office spaces.
Anjali and NK ushered Khushi forward.
"This is the executive wing," Anjali explained. "You'll be helping here for now—light administrative tasks, assisting with scheduling, maybe some internal coordination."
Khushi nodded slowly.
She had expected a corner table near a pantry.
Not… this.
NK pointed toward an office door made entirely of frosted glass with ASR engraved in minimalist lettering.
"And that," NK said dramatically, "is the dragon's cave."
"Nand Kishore," Anjali warned.
"What? A friendly dragon! A protective dragon! Look at me, being supportive."
From inside the frosted glass room, Arnav's silhouette moved—tall, straight-backed, controlled.
Something about the image made Khushi's stomach flutter strangely.
Fear?
Nerves?
Something unnamed?
She didn't know.
Anjali placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"You're safe here," she said quietly.
Khushi looked up at her.
Something warm settled in her chest.
But when she glanced again toward Arnav's office…
The warm feeling tangled with something deeper.
Something she couldn't identify.
Something she wasn't sure she wanted to.
Before she could dwell on it, NK clapped his hands.
"Right! Office tour! Coffee machine introduction! Emergency gossip briefing! Let's go!"
Khushi blinked. "Emergency… what?"
NK linked his arm with hers dramatically. "Trust me. You'll need it."
Anjali laughed softly behind them as NK dragged Khushi down the hallway.
Khushi glanced over her shoulder once.
Through the frosted glass, Arnav had stopped moving.
He was standing still.
Facing the door.
Facing her.
Her breath caught.
Then the shadow moved again, disappearing deeper into his office.
NK tugged her gently. "Don't worry. He doesn't bite."
Khushi nodded, though her heart insisted otherwise.
Because something inside her whispered a truth she didn't want to admit yet—
Arnav Singh Raizada didn't need to bite to affect her.
One glance from him had already been enough.
---
Arnav's POV (Flashback)
Arnav watched her until she disappeared around the corner.
He didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
Didn't blink.
His eyes followed every step she took—soft, hesitant, hopeful—until the last sliver of her vanished behind the bend.
Then, in the dim quiet of the street, he exhaled.
And whispered—
"You're already mine."
Not a threat.
Not a claim.
A truth he felt deep in bones he didn't know could ache.
He exhaled slowly and took out his phone.
His tone was ice when HR answered. "Hire her Khushi Kumari Gupta."
A pause. "Sir— the standard process—"
"Skip the process." His voice sharpened. "Paperwork by morning. Onboard her in the executive wing. And she reports to me. Only me."
He didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to.
The HR head swallowed audibly over the line. "Of course, sir. I'll inform Anjali ma'am and NK sir as protocol."
"Good."
Arnav hung up.
For a moment he let the mask slip—just a fraction.
Khushi Kumari Gupta.
He repeated the name silently, tasting it like a secret.
Mine.
The word formed before logic could argue.
He straightened his cuffs, erasing every hint of emotion from his face.
The world would see only the cold decision.
But he already knew the truth.
He didn't hire her because she was qualified.
He hired her because he wanted her close.
Dangerously close.
---
Thanks for reading! 💛
Don't forget to:
👍 Vote
💬 Comment
🌟 Follow
See you in the next chapter! 🖤