Hello everyone,

So here is the first chapter, hope you guys will like it . Please like and comment your thoughts about the chapter.

Check out my Instagram account for more updates about the story.

Id:@aashw_rites

Happy reading 💗

𝗩 𝗜 𝗛 𝗔 𝗔 𝗡

There’s one thing I can do anytime, anywhere, without ever getting bored or tired—sleeping. If there was a competition for who could sleep the longest without interruptions, I’d be the reigning champion. But of course, the world around me is too cruel to let me enjoy my well-deserved beauty sleep.

Like right now.

After working my ass off yesterday, I was finally catching up on some much-needed rest. But for the past five minutes, my phone had been ringing non-stop. I tried to ignore it, willing the noise to disappear, but the damned device just wouldn’t shut up. With a groan, I reached for it, cracking one eye open to glare at the caller ID.

Abhimanyu.

That annoying little shit.

I swiped to answer, still half-asleep. "This better be important, Lover Boy. You just ruined my beauty sleep."

"Good morning to you too, Vihaan. Aren't you just a ray of sunshine this morning, Vihu baby?" came Abhimanyu’s infuriatingly cheerful voice.

I gritted my teeth. "Shut up. What's the matter, Bakko?" My irritation was seeping into my tone, but I didn’t care. I was always like this when someone disturbed my sleep.

"I just called to remind you about our lunch with Kia’s friends. Be on time," he said casually, as if he hadn’t just shattered my peaceful slumber.

"You could have just messaged me. Why the hell did you call?" I asked, now fully awake and glaring at the ceiling.

"So that I could ruin your sleep, obviously," he replied, and I could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

"Fuck you!" I yelled into the phone, throwing a pillow across the room in frustration.

"Not interested," he shot back smoothly. "And it’s not good to curse first thing in the morning, Vihu baby. Don’t be a brat—rise and shine!"

And just like that, he hung up.

"Fucking bastard," I muttered, huffing as I tossed my phone onto the bed. I ran a hand through my messy hair and let out a sigh.

Alright then. No point in sulking.

"Let's rock the day, Vihaan," I mumbled to myself, dragging my tired body out of bed.

♡

After dressing in a full black tuxedo, I made my way downstairs for breakfast. As I approached the dining table, I noticed my parents were already seated. It had been a long time since I’d had breakfast with them.

Clearing my throat, I took the seat opposite my mother. As always, she didn’t even glance up from her plate.

And it hurt—just like every other time.

I looked at the dishes laid out before me.

Poha.

Wow. I don’t like it. It’s Vivaan’s favorite, not mine.

Suppressing a sigh, I poured myself a glass of juice and took a sip, trying to ignore the familiar ache in my chest.

“Vihaan,” my father called, his voice sharp and authoritative.

“Yes, Dad?” I responded, already bracing myself for the conversation.

“How is the foreign project going?” he asked in the same businesslike tone he used with clients.

Of course. He never spoke to me like a father—only like a CEO addressing an employee.

“Me and my team are working on it, Dad,” I answered truthfully, hoping—just hoping—that, for once, he’d be satisfied with my work.

But who was I kidding?

“Don’t show your irresponsible behavior towards the project,” he warned. “Complete it within the deadline. I don’t want any complaints from the clients. This is an important project for my company.”

Not just yours, Dad.

I’ve worked just as hard to build the company.

I wanted to say it. I really did. But I kept quiet, swallowing the words like I always did. Instead, my gaze flickered to my mother, searching for any kind of acknowledgment, any reaction.

Nothing. She remained focused on her food, as if we weren’t even there.

You might be wondering why I’m so calm about this.

Dude, I’ve been dealing with it for twenty years.

I’m not that seven-year-old kid anymore, the one who used to crave his parents' attention and love.

The tense silence was finally broken by the ringtone of my phone. As soon as I saw the caller ID, an automatic smile spread across my lips.

“Yes, Maa. Good morning,” I greeted in a chirpy voice, my mood instantly lifting.

“Morning, beta. Have you had breakfast yet?” came the warm, affectionate voice of the sweetest mother in the world.

“Yes, Maa, I’m having my juice,” I replied, the heaviness in my chest already easing.

“Juice? Is that even considered breakfast?” she scolded lightly. “Come here right now. I made your favorite today.”

A grin tugged at my lips. “Aloo paratha?” I asked, excitement bubbling inside me.

“Yes. Now come fast,” she ordered in her strict-but-loving tone.

“Okay, on my way,” I replied, nodding even though she wasn’t in front of me.

As I ended the call and looked up, I found my mother staring at me. There was something in her eyes—an emotion I couldn’t quite name.

But I didn’t dwell on it.

Without bothering to say goodbye, I pushed back my chair, grabbed my keys, and walked out of the mansion.

I was going home.

To Thakur Villa.

To Anamika Thakur—the woman who had been more of a mother to me than my actual one ever was.

She was my best friend’s mother, but to me, she had always been more. She had been there every time my own mother wasn’t. She had taken care of me, scolded me, and loved me like I was her own son.

And honestly? I had practically grown up in their home.

♡

I reached Thakur Villa within fifteen minutes. The moment I stepped inside the familiar house, a wave of warmth washed over me, filling the empty spaces in my heart. It always felt like coming home after a long, exhausting day—even though it wasn’t technically my home.

As I neared the entrance, Anamika Maa was already waiting for me at the doorstep, her lips curving into the warmest smile. Her arms opened wide in invitation, and without hesitation, I stepped into her embrace.

Whenever I came here, she welcomed me like this—smiling, hugging me tight, making me feel wanted. For a few moments, in her arms, I got to experience the love of a mother.

A love I had always craved from my own mother but never received.

She pulled back slightly, her hands cupping my face as she studied me with concern.

“How are you, baccha? Are you even eating properly? Look at you—you’ve become so thin,” she fretted, her brows knitting together.

(Baccha – baby)

I chuckled. “Maa, you always say this.”

We walked inside together, side by side, like always.

“Vijay, look at him,” she called out to Digvijay Uncle, who was seated on the couch, absorbed in his newspaper. “Doesn’t he look thinner than the last time he was here?”

Uncle lowered the newspaper and glanced at me with a smirk before turning back to Maa.

“Yes,” he said simply, amusement dancing in his eyes.

Traitor.

“Maa, you worry too much,” I huffed, trying to divert the topic. “Please give me my aloo paratha, I’m starving.” I pouted, knowing full well she could never resist my puppy-dog face.

Whatever Abhi and Vikram said about my pout, it always worked on her.

As if she had just been waiting for me to say that, she immediately filled my plate with steaming hot parathas and sat beside me, determined to ensure I ate every last bite.

And that’s exactly what happened—for the next hour.

“Maa, I can’t eat anymore,” I groaned, trying to stop her from putting yet another paratha on my plate.

At last, she sighed and relented. I leaned back, stuffed beyond belief, and turned toward Uncle, who was watching the whole scene with clear amusement.

Cheater.

After washing my face, I settled in the living room, lying on the sofa with my head resting on Maa’s lap. She ran her fingers through my hair, giving me a soothing head massage as I filled her in on everything happening in my life.

“Don’t stress yourself too much, Vihaan. It’s not good for your health,” she said, her voice filled with concern.

“But the project is important for the company,” I murmured. “And for Dad.”

“Your health is important too, beta,” Uncle chimed in, his voice calm yet firm. “I’ve told you before—working for your dreams is important, but you can’t neglect yourself in the process.”

I sighed. I knew they were right. But what choice did I have?

After a brief silence, I hesitated before whispering, “I miss her, Maa.”

Her fingers in my hair stilled for a moment. I knew she understood who I was talking about.

“We miss her too, baccha,” she said softly. “Uske bina ghar ghar nahi lagta.”

(The house doesn’t feel the same without her.)

I closed my eyes for a second, swallowing the lump in my throat.

After spending some more time with her, I finally got up to leave.

“I need to go now, Maa. We have a lunch meeting with Abhi and his fiancée.”

She sighed but nodded. “Okay, but come back soon, beta. Don’t forget us now that your best friend isn’t here.”

I smiled, stepping forward to kiss her forehead. “How could I ever forget my favorite people?”

With that, I walked out, heading off to pick up my short-tempered best friend, Mr. Khan.

♡

I was currently driving toward the headquarters of Khan Securities, my fingers tapping lightly against the steering wheel. I needed to pick up Salah before heading to lunch, and I could not be late.

Why?

Because Abhi would skin us alive if we kept his precious Kia waiting. That man loved her beyond reason—no limits, no conditions. If making her happy meant committing a crime, I had no doubt he would do it without hesitation.

A lovesick puppy.

And if that wasn’t enough motivation to be on time, there was also Maharaja Vikram Singh Rathore—another of my best friends. Unlike Abhi, he wouldn’t just get angry. No, he would unleash a monologue about discipline and time management that could make even the bravest men shiver.

And I was always his favorite victim.

As I pulled up to the entrance of Khan Securities, I spotted Salah standing outside, a small towel draped over his head. It looked like he had just finished his prayers.

I stopped the car beside him, and he got in.

The moment he settled in his seat, he turned to me with an unimpressed expression.

"Why are you always late, Vihaan?"

"Wow, bro. Great welcome," I said sarcastically. "I'm fine, by the way. Thanks for asking."

Salah let out a sharp exhale, clearly irritated. "Abhi and Vikram have been blowing up my phone with texts and calls."

He was already annoyed. And I, unfortunately, had a habit of being his biggest catalyst when it came to anger.

I scratched the back of my neck sheepishly. "I was at Piya's."

That got his attention. His brows rose slightly in curiosity.

And as if on cue, my phone started ringing. Piya's name flashed on the screen.

Talk about the devil.

I answered the call. "Hello, V. How are you?" she asked sweetly.

That tone meant only one thing—she wanted something.

"Stop buttering me up, Monkey," I said, smirking. I knew she would hate the nickname.

"Stop calling me that, Vihaan Malhotra!" she screeched through the phone. I burst into laughter, while Salah glanced at me, unimpressed.

Once I managed to contain my amusement, I asked, "Alright, what do you want?"

"Can you do me a favor, my cute, lovely, sweet, and hot-as-hell bestie?" she cooed in an exaggerated baby voice.

I rolled my eyes. Who would believe that this same girl was a professional hacker, capable of breaking into the most secure systems?

"Cut the nonsense and tell me what you need."

"So... can you get me the number of Aarav Ahuja?"

I frowned immediately. Why the hell did she need his number?

"Why do you need his number?" I asked, my voice sharper than intended.

Salah turned to me with a raised eyebrow. I gave him a look that told him exactly what she had asked.

"Why do you need his number, Piya?" Salah repeated, his voice holding a warning.

"So that I can date him, obviously," she said casually.

WHAT?!

Salah and I yelled in unison.

"You are not dating anyone, Piya," Salah said firmly. "You know what happened last time."

I nodded in agreement. We didn’t know this guy or his motives.

She groaned. "Everything was going fine until you guys turned into my bodyguards and scared him away."

Correction: We didn’t scare him away.

We just politely told him that if he ever tried to touch her inappropriately or make her cry, we would kill him—after torturing him for a few days.

"He wasn't the right person for you," Salah said nonchalantly.

Piya sighed loudly, as if we were the biggest burden of her life. "Relax, you idiots. I actually need his number because I want to buy one of his sculptures for Maa. I can’t contact him directly from here."

I let out a breath of relief.

"You’re trying to bribe Maa again, aren’t you?" I asked.

She scoffed. "Mumma is sad, and I don’t want to die at my father’s hands for not making her happy."

I shook my head. "Fine. I’ll get it for you."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re my savior, V!" she said, her voice filled with excitement.

I smirked. She called me her savior, but she was actually mine.

"Okay, I really need to go now," she added. "Meeting some officers. Bye, love you guys!"

She hung up, and for a few moments, there was silence in the car. Then, out of nowhere, Salah muttered, "She’s annoying all the time, but... I miss her sometimes."

And that was my cue.

I tapped my phone’s screen and put the call on speaker.

"Oh... is that my sweet Salah? Are you missing me?"

Salah turned to glare at me, murder written all over his face. I grinned back.

We always did this. It was fun.

"I miss you guys too," Piya said, sounding softer. "Especially my Niya. Please buy some chocolates for her."

Then she was gone.

I sighed. It had been six months since she left.

For the next thirty minutes, we drove in silence.

We reached the café around 1 PM. As we were about to enter, Salah got a call and stepped aside to answer it.

I walked inside, my eyes immediately drawing attention. I could feel people—especially the women—staring at me.

I flashed my signature charming smile.

Well, what can I say? I’m handsome.

I spotted my group and headed toward Abhi first.

"Why are you late, Vihaan?" he asked, arms crossed.

"It wasn’t me. Salah was late," I said, throwing him under the bus.

"And where is he?" Vikram asked.

"He’ll be here in a minute."

Then I turned to Kainat with a smirk. "Hello, darling. You look stunning today." I side-hugged her, making sure Abhi was watching.

The moment I glanced at him, his jaw was clenched, his eyes practically burning holes into my soul.

Take that, bastard. That was for ruining my sleep.

Mentally dancing in victory.

I greeted Siya, my sweet and calm friend. But the moment my eyes landed on the last person at the table, my feet froze.

No. Fucking. Way.

My gaze locked onto a pair of baby-blue eyes—ones that had once made me fall head over heels.

Memories crashed into me.

"I don’t love you, Vihaan. Never did. It was all just a game—to prove that I can win every challenge. So sorry, but… I don’t love you."

I swallowed the rage boiling inside me and forced myself to act like I

didn’t know her.

But deep down, I knew the truth.

She would bring out the worst in me.

I never thought I could hate someone this much.

But AADHYA RAICHAND was an exception.

And I hated her with everything I had. With my entire existence.

♡

Hello guys,

Did you like the chapter? Comment your thoughts.

Follow me on Instagram.

Bye

Ash💋