8:30 AM,
"Zaynu, my jaan, my pyara bhai, my favorite, most handsome, intelligent, generous, kind-hearted CEO-"
(Jaan= Love, Pyara bhai= Lovely brother)
Zayn slams his coffee mug down and squints at Arohi, his cousin sister who is grinning like she hasn't just thrown every sweet adjective in existence at him.
Rayaan, the absolute menace, can't believe his younger brother snickers beside him. "Bhai, whenever she calls you 'bhai,' something borderline illegal is about to happen."
Arohi flips her hair like she's starring in a shampoo ad. "Shut up, you half-brained giraffe. No one asked for your commentary."
Rayaan gasps, clutching his chest. "I flirted with your friend ONE time in childhood, and you're still holding a grudge?"
Arohi slams a hand on the table. "BECAUSE IT WAS TRAUMATIZING, YOU BURNT MARSHMALLOW I WAS TEN. YOU WERE TWELVE. AND YOU WROTE HER A LOVE LETTER IN A PINK GLITTER PEN-"
Rayaan rolls his eyes. "Correction: I didn't write it to you. Besides, that was my Shakespearean era. A poet had to do what a poet had to do." He smirks, dimples in full effect like they pay his rent.
Zayn exhales slowly. He live with lunatics. Just because they share the same last name doesn't mean he wouldn't sell them to the black market if given a chance.
Rayaan clears his throat. "Actually, I wrote that letter to your high school friend's sister... Alara, I think?" He tilts his head, as if remembering some tragic past romance. "Don't flatter yourself, chudail."
Arohi looks unimpressed. "The high school friend you're talking about is Kavya."
Rayaan blinks. "Kavya Ahuja? your bestfriend right?"
Arohi nods.
Rayaan's entire existence momentarily malfunctions. His expression shifts from confusion to realization, to something suspiciously close to excitement. "Wait. That means... I'll get to see alara?"
Then, as if his brain reboots at 5x speed, he starts muttering, "Where does she live? Do you know? What's she studying? What's her favorite color? What food does she like-"
Arohi snaps her fingers in front of his face. "Hello? The same Rayaan I know? The emotionally unavailable, business-first, I-flirt-for-fun-women-are-a-distraction Rayaan?"
Rayaan sighs, defeated. In a voice so soft it could melt glaciers, he whispers, "Tell me. Please."
Arohi nearly drops to the floor. "ZAYN, RECORD THIS. HE JUST SAID PLEASE. OH MY GOD-"
"Stop screaming at every goddamn thing, you overcooked omelet!" Rayaan yells.
Arohi, ever the drama queen, gasps. "WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME?"
Rayaan shrugs. "Overcooked omelet."
Zayn rubs his temples. "Enough. Arohi, get to the damn point before I personally drive you both to the nearest adoption center."
She grins. And that's when Zayn knew—he's about to suffer.
"Okay, so," she says, perching on breakfast table like she owns it. "I got you a new P.A."
Zayn freezes.
Rayaan whistles low. "Damn, that was fast. Is she hot?"
Arohi kicks him under the table.
Zayn narrows his eyes. "And what makes you think I need a new P.A.?"
"Because you fired the last one just because he was breathing loudly, Zayn."
Zayn shrugs. "He was incompetent."
"You made him develop asthma."
"He deserved it."
Arohi groans. "ANYWAY, my best friend is your new assistant."
Zayn blinks. "Who?"
"Kavya Ahuja."
Zayn frowns. "A girl?"
Arohi smirks. "Yes, a woman, Zayn. A female. A living, breathing, independent woman who-"
"I don't hire female assistants."
Arohi crosses her arms. "You do now."
Zayn glares. "Arohi, I'm not hiring her."
Arohi smiles sweetly. "Oh, but you are."
Zayn folds his arms. "And why would I do that?"
She leans in, eyes twinkling with something dangerous. "Because if you don't, I'll leak that video of you from last year where you were-"
Zayn stiffens.
She smirks wider.
"licking-"
Zayn shoots up from his chair. "OKAY, WHAT THE FUCK-"
Rayaan leans forward, intrigued. "What video?"
Zayn shoot him a death glare. "None of your business."
Arohi winks. "That's what I thought. Congratulations, bhai! Kavya starts tomorrow."
Zayn stares at her. Betrayed. Defeated. Helpless.
'This criminal lawyer bitch just blackmailed me into hiring her best friend'—He was thinking on his mind
Rayaan chuckles, sipping his coffee. "Well, well. The great Zayn Malhotra, CEO of Malhotra Enterprises, just got bullied into hiring a girl he's never met."
Zayn clenches his jaw.
He console himself, It's fine. She's just another assistant. Nothing more.
'I don't like female assistants. The last time Rayaan forced me to hire one, she spent more time drooling over me than working. I know I have a face that should be kept on museum and a sexy body, but professionalism exists for a reason' He thought in mind.
Zayn sighs.
.........
10:20 AM,
Kavya was sleeping, her blanket covering her from head to toe when her phone rang.
With a sleepy voice, she whispered, "Hello?... Kaun?" (who?)
"I'M SPEAKING, YOU BRAINLESS HUMAN!"
Kavya frowned. "Kaun?" (who?)
Silence.
Then, Arohi's sharp voice came through. "BITCH, MAIN BOL RAHI HOON! SO KE UTHI NAHI AB TAK?!" (I am talking! you didn't woke up yet?)
Kavya groaned. "Arohi, it's only 10:20 AM. Normal people wake up after 12."
"MAHARANI, HOW WILL YOU SURVIVE A JOB IF YOU SLEEP TILL NOON?!" (queen)
Kavya yawned. "Aree, woh sab baad mein. First, tell me, why are you ruining my beauty sleep?" (Duh, that will come later)
"I talked to Zayn. Come to his company tomorrow for the interview"
Kavya immediately sat up.
"Sacchi?" (really?)
"Muchhi." (really!)
Her eyes widened. "So... I... I'll work under a hot boss? This is feeling like a K-drama already."
Arohi scoffed. "If you pass your interview."
Kavya waved a hand. "I will, I will. It's not like he'll ask me why Newton didn't eat the apple but made thousands of formulas instead."
Arohi snorted. "Obviously."
"Okay, okay. So, what should I wear?"
"Ghagra-choli."
"Huh?"
Arohi sighed. "Formal attire, dumbass. Use your tiny brain for once."
"I have no brain cells left."
"I can see that."
Kavya huffed. "Okay, but like... formal means what?"
Arohi resisted the urge to strangle her. "A white or brown trouser with a white or blue top."
"I have a blue top and white trousers-oh wait. Let me check if my period is coming."
Arohi waited, staring at the wall.
After two minutes, Kavya returned. "I'm safe! My period is in five days. I can wear white trousers."
Arohi shook her head in disbelief. "This is why I judge you daily."
Kavya grinned. "Okay, I need to prepare myself for this interview with my hot boss."
"Yeah, yeah." Arohi cut the call, already regretting her life choices.
One thing was certain-Zayn Malhotra had no idea what kind of chaos was about to enter his life.
I wasn't nervous.
Okay, maybe a little.
Fine. I was sweating bullets.
But it wasn't because today was my first day as Zayn Malhotra's assistant. I mean I'll have to pass the interview first but still, No, of course not. I had faced bigger disasters in life.
Like the time I tried to be romantic and called my professor 'babe' instead of my best friend.
Or when I confidently walked into the men's washroom and realized way too late that something was very wrong.
Or that one time I waved at a mannequin for a solid five minutes because I thought it was a person.
So, clearly, I was a pro at embarrassing myself.
But nothing-nothing-could've prepared me for what happened next.
Anyway, I’m wearing a purple-colored Pakistani suit today. I know, I know—I should’ve probably worn something more modern, trendy, maybe even a little skin-showing to blend into the whole “corporate baddie” vibe. Something that screams boss lady instead of bride in denial. But… no.
It’s not like I’m not allowed to wear short clothes or anything. It’s just... I don’t want to.
I’m insecure, okay? There. I said it.
I don’t want random people—especially strange men—staring at my curves like I’m some item on sale. I don’t want to feel exposed, uncomfortable, or worse—judged. What if they laugh at me? What if I look like I’m trying too hard? I know there are girls out there who are way hotter, thinner, confident, practically born to slay in crop tops and pencil skirts. And that’s amazing. I admire them. But me?
I just feel prettier in suits.
There’s something about the way a dupatta drapes over my chest, the sleeves hiding my arms, the flowy fabric making me feel… safe. Not invisible. Not loud. Just... me.
Are short clothes mandatory for this job?
I don’t think so. I mean, there was no “please arrive half-naked” clause in the appointment letter. But still—can you really trust men in power?
Not after my past.
Everyone thinks I’ve forgotten what happened. That I’ve moved on. That the memory is gone.
But the truth is… I haven’t forgotten a single damn second. It’s all still here. Locked in some dusty cabinet in my mind that I pretend doesn’t exist. But it does. It always does.
The glances. The touches. The words. The way I froze. The way I smiled just to survive. But still I think I do forgot something—there were more things that happened to me...I don't think I remember the whole thing.
I sigh.
God, why am I like this? Why can’t I just wear a skirt and heels and feel powerful instead of like I’m cosplaying someone I’m not?
I had barely taken three steps inside the office when-
SPLAT.
I tripped over my own flats, I specifically didn't wore heels so that I'd not witness this moment, but I think trouble walks beside me, I not so gently reached the floor, Ouch, my thigh hurts. Fuck the floor.
Silence.
Pure. Dead. Silence.
When I thought no one witness my flying onto the floor moment— a deep, bored voice spoke above me.
"Is she dead, or should we call security to dispose of the body?"
EXCUSE ME?!
I groaned, pushing my hair back, and my eyes locked onto a man.
I know it is Zayn Malhotra.
My new boss. Ths same man I stalked in Instagram.
He stood there, hands in his pockets, looking like he stepped straight out of a billionaire romance novel-except his expression screamed 'I will personally ruin your life.'
And I?
I was still on the floor.
Absolutely fantastic first impression.
I scrambled up, dying inside, and forced a smile. "I-uh-I'm alive, sir." Ok, Kavya you've made a really great first impression.
Zayn's gaze flickered over me lazily before taking a sigh "Unfortunate."
UNFORTUNATE?!
Before I could process that absolute insult, he turned on his heel and started walking away.
"Inside. Now." His voice was as sharp as his damn cheekbones.
I blinked.
Then blinked again.
What the hell just happened?
I took a deep breath and follow my new boss inside.
God, please give me strength.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
The moment I stepped into the room, an unfamiliar yet rich fragrance wrapped around me, expensive and addictive. The interiors were sleek-white, minimal, clean, and professional. It screamed wealth. I was too busy drinking in my surroundings when I heard a chair scrape against the floor.
I turned my head, and there he was.
Zayn Malhotra.
Seated behind his desk like he owned the world. And maybe he did. A sleek nameplate reading CEO gleamed on his table, but my gaze flickered back to him almost immediately. He had this... presence. Commanding, effortless, and unfairly gorgeous.
A sharp throat clearly snapped me out of it. His eyes-dark, unreadable, and locked onto mine-made my throat run dry.
Oh fuck.
I straightened up and forced myself to look composed. "Hello, sir. I'm Kavya Ahuja, an MBA degree holder seeking a job based on my intelligence and skills."
No stutter. Nice.
His stare stayed on me or maybe on my cloth? for a fraction too long before shifting to the resume on his desk. He flipped through the pages lazily, like he already knew everything he needed to know.
"I know."
Two words. Low, almost a whisper.
My stomach flipped. Okay? Was I supposed to respond to that? Nod? Bow? Kiss? God, save me.
"So, Miss Ahuja," he drawled, breaking the silence. "You completed your graduation a month ago and are now looking for a job. Correct?"
"Yes, sir."
He hummed, gaze flicking back to me. "And why should I hire you? You don't have any experience in corporate field"
Uff! If only he spoke as pretty as he look.
I squared my shoulders. "I may not have experience in this field, but I scored top grades in my business exams. I learn fast and adapt quickly-"
He cut me off. "Miss Ahuja."
His tone made my breath hitch. He looked at me like I had just asked him to marry me. Why so grumpy?
"Y-Yes?"
"You do realize that grades don't impress me? If you want to be my P.A., you'll need logical and practical intelligence to handle situations immediately."
"I-I understand, sir. I'll do my best to learn quickly."
"I'm not here to teach you." His eyes bored into mine. "You'll have to figure it out on your own. Can you do that?"
"Yes, sir. I can."
Something flickered in his expression-amusement? Interest? His lips tugged into the faintest smirk. "I like your confidence. Keep it up."
I nodded, unsure why my pulse was racing.
Then silence. Thick, charged silence.
He didn't speak. Just... looked at me. His eyes moved slowly-from my left eye to my right, and then, too deliberately, to my lips.
The air shifted. My skin prickled. What the hell is he doing?
I cleared my throat, whispering, "So, sir... am I hired?"
His smirk deepened. "Why so desperate, Miss Ahuja?"
Desperate? I nearly choked. Before I could argue, he leaned back, fingers tapping against the desk. "Last question."
I steeled myself. Okay. One more.
"Why do you want to be my personal.. assistant?"
The way he stretched out the word personal made it sound... illegal.
Was I in some Sanjay Leela Bhansali film?
I inhaled sharply. "I need this job to gain experience in the corporate world because I plan to start my own company in the future."
Something flickered in his gaze. Surprise? Intrigue?
"Impressive," he murmured. "So, this is just a stepping stone for you?"
"No-no! I mean, I'll be loyal to you-"
His smirk returned. But this time... it was a smile. A full, dimpled, fucking unfair smile.
I forgot how to breathe.
Zayn Malhotra just smiled. AT ME.
I didn't even say anything remotely funny. Did I have magical powers or what? If Arohi heard about this, she'd start picking baby names for our future children.
His voice dropped an octave. "Be specific with your words, Miss Ahuja."
"H-Huh?"
He let out a quiet chuckle. "Never mind. What kind of company?"
I blinked, caught off guard by how he didn't dismiss my ambition outright. "A clothing brand."
His lips twitched. "Of course. What else did I expect?"
He laughed. He laughed because of me.
WAIT.
or
Was he laughing at me?
"What did you expect?" I blurted out before I could stop myself.
His laughter died down, but his gaze... changed. Darkened.
"I expected-" His eyes dragged over my face, slow, deliberate, memorizing. "That you'd drool over me like other female assistants and I will fire you "
I froze.
WHAT?
Was this man serious? Had his previous P.A.s actually drooled over him?
My mind short-circuited. "No, sir. You can drool and be professional at the same time."
OH MY FUCKING GOD.
DID I JUST SAY THAT OUT LOUD?
Zayn's smirk was positively devilish. "Oh? So, you were drooling over me?"
I wanted to evaporate. "No, no, sir I was jus-"
He raised an eyebrow. "Just?"
"...Just answering your question."
Another chuckle. Low, rich, sinful. The kind of laugh that sounded like Ha💸Ha💸Ha💸.
"Alright," he mused, amused. "You start tomorrow. First week is a trial."
I blinked. "I got the job?"
He nodded.
HOLY SHIT. I got the job.
I managed a professional "Thank you, sir" before bolting out of his office.
TO BE CONTINUED....
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