Bangalore, India
Alisha's words spilled out like a confession, her voice alive with pride and nostalgia. "I was a software developer before all this," she told Samrat Oberoi, her eyes gleaming. "Acting was my childhood dream, but I coded to pay the bills. BCA degree, Delhi job, endless auditions—rejections stung, but I kept pushing. Even now, I still dabble in coding."Samrat listened, his face a mask of mild surprise, though truth be told, he knew it all. Her dossier sat in his office, detailing her films, her accident, her debt to him. Yet hearing it from her—raw, unfiltered—stirred something in him. Curiosity, perhaps, or something deeper he wouldn't name. He leaned back, letting her voice fill the dining room as they finished their meal.The plates clinked as Alisha cleared the table, her least favorite task looming: washing dishes. She loathed it, the slimy residue and endless scrubbing a personal torture. Grumbling under her breath, she tackled the chore, her hands moving faster to escape the sink's clutches. After cleaning the kitchen and tidying the house, she approached Samrat, who lounged with his laptop. "Boss, I've done all the work. Can I head home?"He glanced up, his gaze sharp. "Sure, go." Then, pausing, he added, "Wait a minute. I'll drop you off."Alisha blinked, stunned. "You're dropping me off?"Samrat nodded, his tone matter-of-fact. "It's late. Not safe for a woman alone. It's a man's duty to ensure you're okay. Don't overthink it—just come with me."Her heart skipped, a smile tugging at her lips. A soft side to the tyrant? "Well, that's a shocker," she teased. "Didn't know you had a heart."Samrat rolled his eyes but led her to his car, a sleek beast that screamed wealth—unlike the Rolls-Royce she'd once dented. Alisha followed, chuckling, her earlier resentment softening. They slid into the car, the engine purring as they headed toward her apartment.Halfway there, her phone buzzed. Neha's voice burst through. "Alisha, we're near the mall! Come join us!"Alisha groaned. "You should've told me earlier! We're almost home."Samrat's eyes flicked to her, catching her slip—we. Alisha continued, "Fine, stay there. I'll figure it out." Neha hung up, and Samrat raised an eyebrow. "What's up?""My friends are at the mall," Alisha said, sighing. "We planned to hang out, but I forgot. We're close to home, so just drop me off. The mall's nearby—I'll walk."Without a word, Samrat turned the car toward the mall. Alisha's jaw dropped, but she stayed silent, a warmth spreading in her chest. Her lips curved into a soft smile. Maybe he's not the monster I thought, she mused, stealing a glance at his stoic profile.They pulled up to the mall, the neon lights casting a glow over the bustling entrance. Alisha reached for the door, tossing him a quick, "Bye, thanks!" But Samrat's voice stopped her. "Did you clean the house properly?"She scoffed. "Hours ago, boss. Spotless.""I'll check," he said, his tone clipped. "If it's not up to par, you're working two extra hours tomorrow. Oh, and the groceries are low. Stock up when you come back. Now go."Alisha's smile vanished, her blood boiling. Unbelievable. Moments ago, she'd thought him kind, but this—this was the real Samrat, cold and controlling. She slammed the car door, fury radiating as he drove off. He's the worst. The absolute worst.Neha and Khushi spotted her, their grins fading at her crimson face. "What's wrong?" Neha asked.Alisha unleashed the tale—Samrat's drop-off, his brief kindness, then his infuriating orders. Neha burst out laughing, Khushi joining in. "He's got your number," Neha teased. "Finally, someone who can make you work. I'd pay to see you take his orders. You, who'd snap at anyone raising their voice!"Alisha glared. "Oh, you're enjoying this? Why don't you take my place? I'll talk to him.""Keep dreaming," Neha shot back, smirking.Khushi placed a hand on Alisha's shoulder, her tone softer. "Hey, Ishu, any luck finding out about him?"Alisha's face fell, her voice flat. "I don't want to know about him. Not now."Neha pivoted, sensing her mood. "Alright, movie starts in half an hour. What's the plan?""Movie?" Alisha perked up. "Which one?""Surprise," Neha said with a wink.The trio headed for golgappas, the tangy bursts of flavor lifting Alisha's spirits. With time to kill, they grabbed snacks—popcorn, chips—knowing theater prices were a scam. Sneaking outside food was risky, but Alisha and Neha were pros, their covert snack-smuggling skills honed over years. After roaming the mall, they flashed their tickets and slipped into the theater, settling into their seats.As the lights dimmed, Alisha's breath caught. The screen lit up with her movie—her second film, a vibrant dance drama about friendship, love, and college life. She'd seen it at the premiere, but watching it now with Neha and Khushi felt different. Her character, a spirited dancer, twirled across the screen, her moves electric, her fashion sense dazzling. Whispers rippled through the audience—praise for her dance, her style, her beauty. "She's stunning," someone murmured behind her. "Those moves are unreal."Alisha's heart swelled, her smile wide. Neha and Khushi beamed, their pride brighter than the screen. Acting was Alisha's childhood dream, and now, she was living it. To her friends, she was more than a star—she was their heart, their Ishu.The movie ended, leaving them hungry and buzzing. They spilled out of the mall, heading to a nearby restaurant. Over steaming plates, Alisha dropped a bombshell. "I'm going to Delhi in two days."Neha and Khushi froze. "Why so sudden?" Khushi asked.Alisha's tone dripped with sarcasm. "My boss wants to check on his Delhi branch. Says I'm his bodyguard, so I have to protect his royal highness."Neha cackled. "He's teaching you a lesson, alright.""Laugh again, and these forks are going in your mouth," Alisha warned, brandishing one. Neha's laughter doubled, then stopped abruptly. Hesitating, she said, "Actually, we're headed to Delhi too."Alisha's eyes widened. "What? Why?""My movie shoot's starting," Neha said. "Can't take a break forever."Alisha's face fell, turning to Khushi. "And you?""I'm Vivan's secretary," Khushi explained. "He gave me a short leave, but I overstayed. Tons of work's piled up, and I'm in for a scolding."Alisha's shoulders slumped, her sadness palpable. Khushi squeezed her hand. "Don't stress. Your Riya shoot starts soon—you'll be swamped. After that, you've got that Telugu film. Before you know it, you'll hit the Hindi industry and settle in Delhi. Time'll fly."Alisha managed a quiet, "Hmm."They finished dinner and headed home, collapsing into bed. The next morning, Alisha returned to Samrat's mansion, groceries in tow. She started breakfast, her phone open to healthy recipes. Samrat, fresh from jogging, strode in. "You're here. Make breakfast—light, healthy, now.""On it," Alisha said, scrolling for ideas. Her cooking leaned spicy, South Indian-style—heavy even for breakfast, a habit from childhood. But Samrat, the health freak, demanded bland. She settled on a salad and sandwich, plating them as he descended, freshly showered.He ate in silence, then gestured to the chair across from him. "Sit."Alisha obeyed, wary. Samrat's eyes met hers. "You remember we're leaving for Delhi the day after tomorrow?"She nodded."Good. No work tomorrow—pack your things. We leave early, and I won't tolerate delays. When I call, grab your bag and move." He paused. "It's a five-day trip.""Got it," Alisha said, her mind already racing to her Delhi plans—meeting Vivan and Varun, old friends she hadn't seen in ages.Samrat stood, grabbing his briefcase. "I'm off to the office. Finish the housework and go home."Alisha agreed, and he left, his car vanishing down the drive.