I was standing on stage, all the lights on me. I wore a sleek black split bodycon dress, my hair cascading down in soft waves, and subtle makeup that made me feel like I belonged there. Suddenly, someone pulled me back by the waist. I felt the warmth of his bare chest against my back as he took my hands.
The music swelled.
"Can we dance?" It was Andrew.
"Yes," I said, smiling.
We started swaying to the rhythm, his hands guiding mine. Then the drums rolled—a crescendo that mirrored my racing heart.
"Sana," he whispered.
I looked up. His expression was unreadable. Mysterious. Intense. He leaned in closer. My heart pounded in my chest. I closed my eyes and—God knows why—started pouting unknowingly.
Was he going to kiss me?
Before I could find out, I felt a tug at my leg.
"Aiyee! Wake up, you dumb girl! How long are you going to sleep?!"
Why did Andrew suddenly sound like my grandma?
Another hard pull, and my eyes flew open.
It was Alex.
I was back in my faded nightdress, tangled in blankets. Of course. It was all a dream. A stupid, cruel dream. Reality hit hard—Andrew wanted to meet me, after all that chaos? What fresh humiliation was waiting?
"Oh, Alex, it was you… I don't know why I heard my grandma's voice. Maybe because I've been hiding…"
Right on cue, my grandma—Dadi—stepped out of the bathroom. "Hiding what?"
Panic.
"Who… what… hiding… what hiding?" I babbled.
Alex swooped in like a hero. "She got a job, Dadi! She was hiding it because she wanted to surprise you with a gift."
We all called my grandma Dadi. She narrowed her eyes. "Oh, is it? Then I want gifts from all of you."
Alex blinked. "What gift, Dadi?"
She beamed. "I was thinking of opening an online bakery. I'll need help at night—and with the online stuff."
Alex looked the most excited. "Dadi! Don't worry, I'm your tech guy!"
I smiled faintly. I grew up with Dadi. She was my only family, and she'd known Alex and Dia since we were teenagers. Being around them felt like home.
Then came another shocker.
"Also, I'm moving in. No more drinking in this house."
Alex and I shared a horrified glance. The flat had only three rooms. But we couldn't say no to Dadi. We'd just have to… adjust. And, well, goodbye wine nights.
I glanced at the clock. 9:25 A.M.
I was 25 minutes late.
I popped two hangover tablets and dashed into the company. My heels clicking on the marble floor echoed through the corridor—alongside a deep, husky voice.
Ethan.
I tried to sneak past him, but of course, no such luck.
"Miss Sana Achar, you're 25 minutes late."
"I'm sorry, sir, I can expl—"
"You must be mistaken. In my office. Now."
A guy nearby mimed a neck-cut gesture. "You're dead," he mouthed.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
Inside the office, Ethan shut the door with a cold click.
"Didn't Raheem explain everything? I give first priority to discipline."
"I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again."
"I hate hearing 'sorry'. Be five minutes early from now on. Memorize my entire schedule. Be around me during all work hours. You have a driving license?"
"Han..? Yes."
"Good. You'll pick me up in the morning and drop me home at night. Raheem must've explained the rest. Be disciplined and responsible. This isn't like getting drunk and coming late. From today—no drinking. And it won't take me a second to fire you. Understood? Now bring me today's schedule and tea. No sugar."
By the time I returned with the tea and schedule, he had stacked what looked like a mountain of files on my desk. Three people helped move them. He wanted me to memorize some and approve others.
Ethan Agarwal was an arrogant brat.
And yet, everyone seemed obsessed with him.
I was lost in my thoughts when a girl appeared beside me.
"How did you survive the Ethan Agarwal den?!"
I sighed. "Barely."
She extended her hand. "I'm Raha. PR department. I know you from the video. But honestly, you seem like a good girl. Wanna grab tea?"
I laughed. Her honesty was refreshing.
Over tea, Raha dished out office gossip like a seasoned pro. Everyone feared Ethan. One secretary got fired just because of a rumor that they were dating. He didn't even clarify—it was just: fired. The more I heard, the clearer it became: this man was *not* to be messed with.
Then Raha leaned in and whispered, "Wanna join the Robot Hate Club?"
"Robot what?"
"It's a secret group chat where we all just rant about Ethan. We call him 'Robot' because he acts like one—no emotions, no humanity. Trust me, it's the only therapy that works here."
I laughed so hard, I nearly choked on my tea. "Add me immediately."
Ten minutes later, I was in the group. The chat was full of memes, screenshots, and sarcastic messages mocking Ethan's robotic style. It felt oddly comforting.
For once, I didn't feel alone.
The next three days were a nightmare. I memorized endless files, approved dozens of designs, and every single one got rejected. No explanations. No guidance. Just rejection.
By Friday, I was done.
That evening, I was organizing the papers on Ethan's desk when he walked in.
"These designs—rejected again?" he said, his tone cold.
"Yes, because you never actually tell me what you want," I snapped before I could stop myself.
He raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
I stood my ground. "You give me 200 designs to approve but no direction, no criteria. Then you just reject them all. I'm not a mind reader."
He placed both hands on the desk and leaned in. "You're my secretary, not my creative director. Your job is to manage, not to complain."
"Then maybe treat me like a human, not a robot," I muttered, clenching my fists.
"If you can't handle the pressure, Sana, there's the door."
My voice trembled with anger. "No, I can handle the pressure. What I can't handle is being treated like I'm worthless."
A tense silence followed. For a second, I thought he might fire me right there. But instead, he just picked up his coat and said coldly, "Pick me up at 7 a.m. sharp. Don't be late again."
And just like that, he walked out.
I stood there, heart pounding, adrenaline rushing, wondering what the hell I had gotten myself into.
Sunday finally came—a break from Aggarwal's tyranny. But I had to meet Andrew.
Mixed emotions churned in my gut. I didn't prepare. I just went.
The hotel he chose was lavish—far more luxurious than any place we used to visit together. He sat by the window, scrolling through his phone. Still so handsome. I wondered if I was even dressed well enough to be there.
Then, Neha Kapoor walked past me.
My favorite actress.
For a moment, I wanted to run after her. But it would look weird, so I just walked to Andrew.
He'd already ordered for me.
I sat, my nerves threatening to choke me.
What was I supposed to say?
I didn't want him to speak first. What if he said something I couldn't handle?
Out of pure panic, I blurted, "I have a boyfriend."
He blinked. "You have a boyfriend?"
I scrambled. "I mean—I was really embarrassed about that night. I was drunk, I didn't know what I was saying, and I'm truly sorry. I'm really happy for you and Farzeen. Don't get me wrong. I was just… drunk."
I grabbed the wine glass to calm my nerves.
Just then, a hand gently wrapped around mine.
"Yes," a voice said from behind.
I turned.