Her POV
The next morning, after completing my usual routine, I dressed in a simple yet elegant white kurti paired with well-fitted trousers. The fabric was lightweight and comfortable, allowing ease of movement while maintaining a polished look. I carefully ensured that my attire was neatly pressed, reflecting a sense of professionalism and simplicity.
After finishing breakfast-a balanced meal to keep me energized for the day ahead-I made a final check of my essentials. My bag was packed with everything I needed, including my phone, notebook, and other necessary items. Ensuring that I was well-prepared, I stepped out of my house, ready to take on the day's responsibilities with focus and confidence.
After stepping out of my house, I hailed an auto-rickshaw from the main road. The morning air was crisp, carrying the faint aroma of freshly brewed tea from roadside stalls. As the auto navigated through the bustling streets, I observed the city waking up-shopkeepers arranging their displays, schoolchildren hurrying to their buses, and office-goers immersed in their own routines. The rhythmic hum of traffic and occasional honking formed a familiar urban symphony.
After a 20-minute ride, the auto pulled up in front of R.R. Enterprises. I stepped out, paid the fare, and adjusted my bag on my shoulder before turning to take in the sight of the building.
The structure stood tall, a modern commercial establishment with sleek glass windows reflecting the golden hues of the morning sun. The entrance was flanked by neatly trimmed hedges, and a security guard stood by the main gate, monitoring the inflow of visitors. The company's name was displayed in bold, metallic letters above the entrance, exuding professionalism. Employees and visitors moved in and out, some engaged in hurried conversations while others checked their phones.
Taking a deep breath, I straightened my posture and walked toward the reception area, ready to begin my day at R.R. Enterprises.
The office exuded professionalism-polished floors, sleek furniture, and employees moving with quiet efficiency.
Approaching the front desk, I offered a polite smile to the receptionist, a woman in her mid-thirties with neatly tied hair and sharp eyes scanning her screen.
"Good morning," I said, keeping my voice steady. "I received an email from the company confirming my interview with Rudraksh Rathod. I'm here for the scheduled meeting."
She gave me a brief nod, fingers moving swiftly across the keyboard. "Your name, please?"
I told her, and she checked the system before nodding again. "Yes, you're on the list. Please wait a moment."
Just then, the sound of approaching footsteps drew my attention. A tall man, dressed in a crisp navy-blue suit, walked toward us with an air of quiet authority. His neatly styled hair and sharp gaze suggested he was someone who took his job seriously. The receptionist immediately acknowledged him.
"Sir, this is the guest for Mr. Rathod's interview."
The man turned to me, his expression polite but professional. "Ms. Navya Thakur , I presume?" His voice was smooth, carrying the confidence of someone accustomed to handling important matters.
"Yes, that's me," I replied, adjusting the strap of my bag.
"I'm Raghav, Mr. Rathod's personal assistant. He's expecting you. Please, follow me."
I nodded, my fingers tightening around my notepad as I fell into step beside him. As we walked past the open-plan workspace, I could feel the weight of curious glances from employees, some whispering to each other. Whether it was about me or something else, I wasn't sure, but it only added to my nervous anticipation.
"Mr. Rathod has a busy schedule, but he's set aside time for this interview," Raghav said as we entered a long hallway lined with glass-walled offices. "I hope you've prepared well."
"I have," I replied, though my heartbeat had picked up slightly.
"Good," he said, glancing at me briefly before stopping in front of a large wooden door. "Here we are."
He knocked once, then pushed it open.
"Sir, your guest has arrived," he announced, stepping aside for me to enter.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward, ready to meet Rudraksh Rathod.
Rudraksh Rathod sat behind a massive mahogany desk, his sharp gaze locking onto mine the moment I entered. He exuded an air of authority-impeccably dressed, his presence commanding yet unreadable.
I lost my calmness but greeted him with a little hesitation.
"Good morning, sir! I'm-" I began, but before I could finish, Raghav cut in.
"Ms. Navya Thakur," he said, his tone measured yet carrying a quiet authority. It wasn't just a greeting-it was an acknowledgment, a subtle reminder that he was in control of this conversation. His sharp gaze met mine, assessing, weighing.
I straightened slightly, refusing to let my hesitation show. The room was silent for a moment, the weight of unspoken words settling between us. Then, with a slight tilt of his head, Rudraksh continued, his voice calm but firm.
"I assume you're here for a reason. So, let's not waste time."
His words were not unkind, but they left no room for hesitation. This was a man who valued efficiency-who expected confidence in return.
"Please take your seat, Ms.," Raghav said, gesturing toward the couch. His voice was calm, but there was a subtle urgency in his tone.
I hesitated for a moment before moving toward the couch, my fingers brushing against the cool leather as I sat. Rudraksh's gaze followed my every move, sharp and unreadable.
He leaned back on his chair and gesture Raghav for something to which he immediately left the office.
"So, Ms. Thakur" he spoke collecting my whole attention from the door towards him , making my eyes focused and ears sharpen to hear him.
"Before we will start with this project. I hope you are aware of everything. No personal life questions, maintainance of professionalism during our meeting otherwise you knew better. What else I can do right." He said giving me death glare like I committed any crime. Like BRO!! I'm not even interested in your life neither wanted to be.
Still, I maintained my posture and nodded in agreement. Then, he gestured for me to take a seat in the chair.
"Even though I don't have time for this, our company gave you this opportunity. Otherwise, we wouldn't have preferred to take part in it. I'm hoping you will make the most of this opportunity for your project," he said sternly, making it clear what he meant.
"I understand, Sir," I replied, and he nodded.
"One month. Four - five meetings regarding this interview session that's it. My secretary will give you my schedule," he said, then called someone. A moment later, his secretary-maybe Raghav-entered the room and gestured for me to follow him. Then, we left the office.
Outside the cabin
Raghav: "I will inform you about Sir's schedule. You can plan everything accordingly. Just a request, Miss-please avoid asking any personal questions. Otherwise, Sir may get offended," he said with a worried expression.
"I understand, Mr. Raghav," I assured him with a nod.
After some time, I left the company.
Time Skip
Shriya and I were discussing this together in the canteen. I told her about the meeting with Rudraksh Rathod.
"He is kind of khadoos! That's all I can say," she said, with a slightly annoyed expression. "At least he could've shown you a little hospitality."
Well, she was right. Last time we did this project too, and the interviewee was polite and welcoming.
We were in the middle of our discussion when, out of nowhere, Ranveer sat on the chair beside me.
"How was your meeting with my brother, Navya?" he asked with a grin.
"Good, he was nice."
A great white lie- I couldn't afford to offend him. What if he got angry? Hearing my reply, he nodded.
"Jhuth mat bolo, I know my brother very well."
(Don't lie, I know my brother very well)
He said, making me feel a little awkward.
"Well- you know, I did suggest your name to him for this project, but he refused. Said 'no partiality'. But look-you still got the opportunity to interview him. Maybe it's just a coincidence," he added, making both mine and Shriya's eyes widen in shock.
"He recommended my name to him. In one place, he says he's our friend, and on the other hand, maut ke muh me fekne ki tayyari. Agar iska connection Rathods ke saath nahi hota to batati Navya kon hai."
(...throwing me into the jaws of death. If he wasn't connected to the Rathods, I would've shown him who Navya really is)
-I thought to myself.
Shriya tried to say something, but I signaled her not to.
"Why are you here alone?" she asked him, to which he replied, "Varun and Diya didn't come today." I nodded too.
---
After college
Shriya left on her scooty because I insisted. There was an emergency at her home, so I didn't want her to be late.
After she left, I also started walking toward the exit gate but stopped when I heard someone call my name. I turned around.
"Navya," Ranveer called, running toward me.
"Are you going home?" he asked. I nodded and replied.
"Where's Shriya?" he continued.
"She had an emergency at home, so she left early," I answered.
He said, "Issokey! Come, we'll drop you."
Then suddenly held my arm. His grip was firm but soft. Still, he should've at least asked me.
He's like this with Diya and Varun too-dragging them along whenever he feels like it. But their case is different. They all come from the same rich background. For Shriya and me, this kind of behavior just draws unnecessary attention from the other students. Maybe he's just too comfortable with us. I couldn't point it out right then-since we were in public-but next time, I'll make him understand.
He led me toward his car, which made me frown because he usually rides a bike. Then I remembered what he said-"we'll drop you"-which means his brother would also be there.
Oh shit. I have to face him again.
Then I noticed him standing against the car, dressed in his usual tailored black suit.
"Kali Charan kahin ka! Black ke alawa kuch pasand hai ki nahi?"
(That gloomy guy! Doesn't he like anything other than black?)
Well, it's none of my business.
Soon he noticed us and glanced at Ranveer's grip on my arm.
"Bhai-can we drop her home? Shriya left early so..." Ranveer asked his brother, almost pleading.
What a bipolar guy. One moment he's bullying people like Satan, and the next he's acting like a helpless child in front of his brother.
"It's okay, Ranveer! I'll get an auto," I said, removing his hand from my arm, trying to get out of the situation.
Suddenly Rudraksh spoke in a commanding tone:
"Get in."
I opened my mouth to protest, but the moment my eyes met his-those eyes screamed Don't disobey.
I silently got into the back seat, and Ranveer sat in the front passenger seat. Soon, Rudraksh started the car.
"What's your address?" Rudraksh asked suddenly.
Before I could reply, Ranveer answered for me,
"Veera Desai Road, Azad Nagar, Andheri West."
Rudraksh raised an eyebrow at that.
"Seems like you both have a great bonding," he said, sounding a little curious.
"Yes-we're good friends, right Navya?" Ranveer added, looking at me.
I nodded.
After some time, we reached my building. I got off the car and turned toward them.
"Thank you, Ranveer," I said. He smiled in response.
Then I turned to his brother.
"Thank you, Bhaiya," (Thank you, big brother) I said, a bit nervously.
He nodded and drove off from there.
"Darawna insaan!" (Scary man!)
At Rathod Mansion
The long dining table gleamed under the golden chandelier, but the silence between the two Rathod brothers echoed louder than any conversation.
Rudraksh and Ranveer sat across from each other, eating quietly - no words exchanged, just the soft clinking of cutlery against porcelain. The air was thick with unspoken thoughts. Ranveer occasionally glanced up at his elder brother, but Rudraksh's focus stayed fixed on his plate.
Once dinner was over, Rudraksh dabbed his mouth with a napkin, stood up, and without looking at Ranveer, said in his usual low, commanding voice:
"Meet me in the study."
Then he walked away, his footsteps sharp against the marble floor.
---
In the Study
The room was dimly lit, the air carrying the scent of old leather, aged whiskey, and freshly polished wood. Rudraksh stood by the tall window, hands in his pockets, looking out into the darkness as Ranveer entered.
Ranveer shut the door behind him, sensing the tension.
Rudraksh didn't turn to face him right away.
"You're getting too comfortable," he said flatly.
His voice, calm but cold, sent a chill through the room.
Ranveer frowned, confused.
"With whom?"
Rudraksh finally turned, his gaze sharp and direct.
"Navya."
Ranveer raised an eyebrow.
"She's a friend-she helped me out. That's all."
"Exactly," Rudraksh cut in.
"She helped. You're mistaking a gesture for something else. Don't forget who we are, Ranveer. Or who she is."
Ranveer's expression shifted - a mix of disbelief and frustration.
"You think being decent with someone makes me forget my place?"
Rudraksh stepped closer.
"Being decent is fine. But dragging her to the car, offering her lifts, holding her arm like she's part of our circle? That's not how this works. We don't get close to people like her.
He paused, then added,
"They don't belong in our world."
Ranveer exhaled sharply.
"She's not just some random girl, Bhai. She's smart grounded- she helped me when I needed it, she's bold-"
"She's common," Rudraksh interrupted coldly.
"And common people break under pressure. We can't afford liabilities, especially ones who start expecting something just because we showed basic kindness."
There was a long silence between them.
Ranveer's jaw tightened, but he said nothing.
Rudraksh returned to his desk, flipping open a file without looking back.
"Keep your distance. That's not a suggestion."
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