"Everything was going well," Akash thought, watching the ray filter through the smoke.
He had proposed. She was about to respond, her lips parting to speak, when—of course—her father had to intervene.
He clenched his jaw as a wave of regret hit him. "I should've had him detained the first chance I got," he thought angrily. "But no, I wanted Anita to punish him first, to make him realise his cruel actions." Now he could only admit to himself how foolish that idea had been.
The flames crackled louder, closing in around them.
Smoke stung his eyes, filling his lungs while he looked desperately for an escape.
She clutched his arm, her eyes wide with terror. "Akash!"
He held her close, his mind racing through a thousand thoughts. "This was supposed to be our moment," he thought bitterly. "If only I'd had him arrested the first chance I got."
"We'll find a way out," he said finally, forcing a calmness into his voice he didn't feel.
They scanned the garden, but flames had already engulfed nearly everything around them.
The familiar paths they'd once strolled were now crackling walls of fire, hungry and tenacious. The heat was biting at their skin, the smoke clogging their throat.
He spotted a narrow gap in the flames near the side gate. "There!" he shouted, pointing. "Let's run."
She tightened her grip on his hand, nodding with fear.
Together, they raced, stumbling over charred vines and broken branches, ignoring the burn of the fire closing in.
The roar of the flames drowned out everything but the sound of their own breaths, ragged and desperate, as they ran toward the gate.
Their feet pounded against the scorched earth as they neared the gate.
Flames flared dangerously close, heat pulsing at their backs, but they didn't dare look behind.
The air was thick and heavy, searing their lungs, and every breath felt to them like inhaling shards of glass.
As they reached the gate, he grabbed the metal handle.
It burnt his palm, but he gritted his teeth and forced it open.
They burst through the gate, collapsing onto the damp grass just as the garden erupted behind them, sending an intense wave of heat outside.
He lay there, his chest heaving, his thoughts still pondering from the fear and adrenaline, until he felt her hand go limp in his grasp.
"Anita!" he gasped, pushing himself up to see her face, which was now pale and ashen, her eyes fluttering closed as her body gave in to the strain of it all.
"No, no, no," he whispered, panic surging through him.
He cupped her face, brushing a strand of soot-streaked hair from her forehead. Her skin was cold, and his heart became clenched from fear at the sight of her so vulnerable.
"Stay with me, Anita," he murmured, leaning close, his voice breaking. "Please don't leave me. We're out, look."
He pulled her against him, holding her tightly, trying to will his strength into her. As he pressed his forehead to hers, he felt the faint cadence of her breath, continuous but fragile, and he released a shuddering sigh of relief.
Her lips parted, barely a whisper escaping. "I... I thought we'd never get out," she murmured, her voice weak yet filled with relief.
He smiled, his own eyes misting over as he looked at her. "Neither did I," he admitted softly, brushing his thumb tenderly over her cheek. "But I'd go through fire a thousand times to live a life with you."
A faint smile touched her lips. "You will never have to do that again."
She stirred in his arms and spoke, "Akash," she murmured, her voice soft but regular. "I'm ready. I don't want to hesitate. I'm ready to spend the rest of my life with you—to marry you. I love you."
For a moment, he could only stare at her, his mind spinning as her words sank in. His heart leapt, and a burst of pure joy lightened up his face.
He laughed, half in disbelief and wholly in elation, pulling her closer as he pressed kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, and her hair. "You mean it? You'll be mine forever?" he whispered, his voice ringing with joy between each kiss before he held her gaze.
She nodded with a mild smile. "Yes, I mean it. I want to spend my life with you."
Unable to contain his excitement, he pulled her closer, wrapping her in his arms as he covered her face with kisses, one after another, unable to stop himself from expressing the happiness bubbling over inside him. "I love you—I love you so much," he murmured. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this moment," he continued.
And she laughed softly, her cheeks becoming warm after he kissed her forehead, her cheeks, and her hair.
He finally stopped, leaning his forehead against hers, a smile still playing on his lips.
"Come on," he whispered, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Let's go home, freshen up, and have breakfast together. We have a lot to look forward to now."
He helped her to her feet, his hand never leaving hers as they began to walk back, side by side, to his car.
When they reached it, he turned to her with a wide smile.
Instead of simply opening the door, he swept her up into his arms in one smooth motion.
She gasped, her eyes widening in surprise as her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck. "What are you doing?" she laughed, breathless.
He grinned, his eyes twinkling as he held her close. "Now that you'll be my wife, I'm going to make sure you're never stressed or overworked again. You deserve to be cherished every single day."
She smiled, and carefully, he opened the car door with one hand, still holding her securely with the other, and gently placed her in the seat, his gaze never leaving hers.
He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, remaining for a moment, just taking in her smile.
He then leaned in, his voice soft, and spoke. "From today onwards, I'll be the one to carry you through every challenge. You'll never have to face anything alone."
Her eyes softened, and she stared up at him.
He kissed her forehead again, then closed the door and walked around to the driver's side, his heart full of joy as he joined her.
"About my father..." she began in a whisper while he drove.
He hummed in response, giving her a glance. But before she could continue, he smiled and asked, "You didn't ask why I proposed without a ring."
She chuckled, shrugging. "Is that necessary?"
"Of course! Very, very necessary," he replied, grinning. "I want us to be engaged in grand style, surrounded by everyone we love. So, when we visit my mother today, we'll share our decision with her. She's been anticipating this moment for so long already."
A blush crept onto her cheeks, and she whispered, "I... I can't come along then. She'll think I'm... shameless."
He shook his head, his smile softening. "Only you would think that. I promise, she doesn't nor will she see you that way."
"Still," she murmured, looking down with a shy smile, "it just doesn't feel... appropriate."
He glanced at her, his gaze dropping to her lips, hanging back there for a moment.
He swallowed hard, his heart pounding with eagerness for the day when every restriction would be lifted, when he would kiss her freely and hold her close without hesitation.
"Fine," he mumbled. "We'll come to your home, then, to formally ask for your hand."
"But my father..." she began, her eyes getting clouded with worry due to the traditions she'd been raised with.
Her remarriage went against her culture, and the consequences could be severe.
He reached over, his hand brushing lightly against hers in a gentle but firm reassurance. "He'll be arrested before the end of today. I promise you that," he replied.
The drive continued in silence, until she furrowed her brows, realising after they approached the familiar gate that they were heading toward his house.
She glanced at him, surprised. "I thought you'd drop me home," she murmured.
He looked at her before clarifying. "For your information, this is your home."
A deep blush spread across her cheeks, and his chest rippled at the sight with joy and pride.
He couldn't help but smile himself, loving the way her shyness made her glow.
As they drove through the gate, he noticed her glance nervously down at her clothes, and he chuckled.
"Clothes, right?" he said, reading her mind. "I've bought a dress I've been wanting to give you. You can wear it today."
She nodded quietly, whispering, "Thank you," her voice barely audible, and she kept her gaze fixed down, too shy to look at him directly.
When they arrived, he got out of the car and moved to her side, watching her step out gracefully.
"I'll order food from the restaurant," he said as they walked together toward the house. "By the time we finish freshening up, it'll be here."
She simply nodded, and he pulled out his phone, dialling the number for her restaurant.
When he completed the call, he looked over at her, already imagining their quiet breakfast together.
"I'll bathe upstairs," he said, gesturing toward the staircase. "You can go to your room."
She nodded again, and they shared a brief stare before parting ways.
She entered the room and paused, her heart swelling as she took in the familiar surroundings. Everything was exactly as she'd left it, each detail preserved with care, as though he were waiting for her return. Smiling to herself, she headed to the bathroom, where even her sponge and soap were still in their places. She rinsed the sponge and stepped into the warm water, letting it wash away the morning's tension.
Once she finished, she wrapped herself in a soft towel and walked back into the bedroom. Laid carefully across the bed was the dress he had mentioned, simple yet beautiful in its modesty. She moved closer, her fingers brushing over the fabric; it was a fine, soft cotton, light and comfortable—chosen with such thoughtfulness that it warmed her heart even more.
Quickly drying off, she slipped into the dress, which fit her perfectly, flattering her figure without excess.
She took a deep breath before she made her way out of the room.
In the dining area, she found him already waiting, dressed in a sleek black suit, a matching black shirt and tie, and polished shoes. His eyes found her as she entered, and for a moment, he just stared, his gaze gleaming with admiration.
"You look beautiful," he said softly, stepping forward and pulling out a chair for her. She blushed, smiling as she murmured, "Thank you," before taking her seat.
He took his place beside her, and they began their breakfast, savouring the calmness of the day.
The ambiance was filled with the comforting aroma of fresh food and hot tea, and as they ate, a feeling of ease settled over them, a quiet joy shared in each other's presence.
"Is this house okay, or should we go for a bigger one?" he asked, his tone casual, though his eyes held an inkling of eagerness. He watched her with a wide grin while she processed his question.
She paused, furrowing her brows, genuinely confused by the sudden question. Seeing the look on her face, he chuckled softly and clarified, "We'll be married soon. I want to give you the best of everything—a place that feels like a true home for us."
She put down her fork, chewing slowly as she absorbed his words. "We're not in a hurry, right? I mean, I still have to convince my mother. And father, though talking to him is pointless, he'll never be supportive, but..."
His face darkened slightly, a protective edge hardening his gaze. "He'll be in jail soon. And honestly," he added, his voice firm but gentle, "I think you should cut ties with him. The man didn't hesitate to put your life at risk...to burn you alive."
A deep sigh escaped her lips, and she nodded. "You're right," she whispered, though the decision wasn't easy. Some bonds, even strained ones, were hard to sever.
Trying to bring back the lightness, he returned to the original topic, "So, about the house...?"
She glanced up at him, offering a small smile. "It's more than okay. It feels like home," she murmured and resumed her meal.
His smile widened, his eyes becoming brighter with excitement. "But I know the paint and furniture—I'm certain you'll want to change them."
She hummed, glancing around the room thoughtfully before voicing what had been on her mind. "Why is everything in the house black? It's beautiful, but, honestly, it gets scary at night."
He chuckled. "You brought life into the house. Before I met you, I barely spent two days in a week here. My P.A. chose the decor—I was too busy to oversee it. But...black is beautiful, right?"
She nodded. "True, it does have a certain elegance."
"But still, we'll add whatever colours you like."
She nodded, then glanced at the clock. "We should be quick. I need to visit Rajiv's mother, and I can't miss work."
His expression turned serious again, and he nodded.
****
"How do you know where they live?" she asked curiously, watching him while he honked at the brown gate. He chuckled as he recalled the last time he was there, warning Rajiv to keep his distance from her.
"Do you really think I'd let you work with someone without knowing exactly where they live?" he replied, glancing at her. "I had to make sure, just in case something happened."
She felt a heat rise to her cheeks, a little flustered at the thought of how protective he was. She lowered her gaze, smiling shyly.
He noticed and it made him smile.
He honked again, waiting for someone to open the gate. But unlike his last visit, there was no gateman in sight.
"Let it be. Maybe he's not home," she murmured, her voice filled with nervousness.
Without waiting, she got out of the car, though a blend of emotions played on her face. She wasn't sure what kind of welcome awaited her inside, but her concern for Rajiv's mother outweighed all her hesitations. She just wanted to make sure she was all right.
Akash got out, joining her, and they stood in front of the gate. "I'll be here with you," he said softly, sensing her unease. He placed a reassuring hand on her back, giving her a gentle nudge forward.
She took a deep breath, nodded, and they pushed open the gate together, stepping inside.
They walked hand in hand through it, the quietness of the place adding a strange heaviness to the air.
She glanced around, noting the weeds that had sprouted between the interlocked stones along the pathway.
"That's odd," she murmured. "Are you sure they live here? I can't imagine Rajiv letting these go unremoved."
Akash shrugged. "I only know him as much as you do."
They reached the front door, and he pressed the doorbell. The house was a modern duplex with a pent room perched at the top, though it seemed almost deserted. After a few minutes of silence, Anita pressed the bell again, a bit harder this time.
Finally, the door opened, and Divya appeared, her eyes widening in shock as she took in the sight of Anita standing there. Anita's gaze fell to the wedding chain around Divya's neck, a symbol of marriage, and she offered a genuine smile, despite the unexpected awkwardness.
"Congratulations to you both," she said softly. "I wish you a happy married life."
Divya's smile carried sadness, and she whispered, "It used to be happy, but not anymore. Please, come in."
She stepped aside, and they entered the house, their footsteps echoing through the sparsely furnished rooms, the emptiness making each step feel heavier. They reached the living room, where Divya motioned for them to sit. The room had only a few pieces of furniture, lending it an eerie stillness.
Anita leaned forward, and she asked, "I came to see Mother. Is she here?"
Divya sighed, sitting down across from them. She looked like a weight was pressing down on her.
"Why do you want to meet her? Have you forgotten how they treated you?" she simply asked.
"I didn't come here to recap the past. I'm here to greet her," Anita replied firmly.
Divya forced a brief smile. "She won't want to see you. To be honest... she hates you."
Anita's eyes hardened. "Is she here or not? If she's here, can you please call her?"
Divya sighed with a flash of sadness flickering in her expression. "You don't believe me, do you? I understand. After everything that happened, I wouldn't expect you to. They moved away—the whole family. Rajiv's grandmother, her, Rajesh, and Rashi. They cut me off completely."
A shadow of pain crossed her face, and she quickly blinked back the tears threatening to spill. Forcing a smile, she added, "At least it's better this way. I refused to be a fool, clinging to someone who didn't respect me."
Anita looked at her, confused, then glanced at Akash, who was equally silent. "What do you mean?" she asked.
"They wanted the company to go to Rajesh after Rajiv's death." Divya explained, her voice thick with grief.
"Rajiv is dead?" Anita and Akash both exclaimed, their voices echoing with shock.
She nodded slowly. "I thought you knew... When you didn't come to the funeral, I assumed it was because you no longer wanted anything to do with him."
Anita's hand flew to her chest as her heart began to race, memories flooding back before her—the sharpness in the words he told her, his anger, even that one slap. Each memory crashed into her mind like a wave, and her eyes became filled with tears.
Akash, though also stunned, moved closer, gently rubbing her back.
Anita glanced at the wedding chain around Divya's neck and asked, almost whispering, "If he's gone... then whose name are you wearing?"
"You thought I married Rajiv? No, I married Rajesh," she clarified.
Anita's brow furrowed further. "Why are you living separately then?"
Divya's lips pressed together in a bitter smile. "Because I wasn't his grandmother's choice. I had to buy their approval. But love shouldn't have to be bought. I'll honour my vows as long as I can. But if he doesn't return to me... then I'll find my way, no matter how hard it may be."
Anita sighed, shaking her head in silence. "I don't understand you," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper as she looked away, blinking back her tears, trying to find the strength amid the heaviness of what she'd learnt.
"After Rajiv's passing, everything fell apart," she spoke, her once-proud posture now slightly slumped, as if the burden of everything had physically diminished her. "Even before he died, things were tough. The day we got the call about his accident, his grandmother had already planned to take Rashi to Banaras to have her married. His mother called him, and he said he was on his way. Maybe he was rushing to get there in time... I don't know. Sadly, he never made it." She paused, her eyes misting with sorrow, and she looked away, swallowing hard.
"When his grandmother came back for his funeral with Rashi, she insisted that his ashes be scattered in the Ganga. We returned to Banaras, and once it was done, she declared that Rajesh would take over in Rajiv's place. But Rajesh doesn't know anything about business, Anita. This isn't his world. The company was struggling even when Rajiv was around, and if Rajesh took control, it would've gone bankrupt in days. I fought back. I told them I'd manage it, and Rajesh could help, because the company wasn't something that would automatically pass to them after Rajiv's death. It was never theirs. It is not their inheritance." She took a shaky breath, then continued. "They changed him. Rajesh told me that if I didn't give him the company, he'd leave me. His mother and grandmother sided with him. But I couldn't let everything my family worked for—all my father's and brother's hard work—to crumble so easily. I chose to stand my ground. And they left me."
Anita sighed, her heart sympathising for her pain. "I don't know what to say. I can only hope things get better for you," she murmured, rising from her seat, feeling the need to end the conversation before it became more uncomfortable. But as she stood, Divya's desperate voice stopped her.
"Please, Anita," she mumbled, clasping her hands together, and her expression turned pleading. "I need a loan. I don't have any other choice."
Anita looked at her, her eyes narrowing slightly in disbelief. "What would you use it for?"
"I've done everything I can to keep the company surviving," she explained in a trembling voice. "I've sold most of our cars, even furniture. I've cut down to barely two meals a day. I work from dawn until late at night just to keep things going. I only came back to grab some documents, but when I saw you, I thought maybe... maybe you could help me. The banks want collateral, and if I can't repay on time, they'll seize it. I need something flexible, something I can repay when I'm able to. Please, Anita. I know your restaurant is flourishing. I'm begging you."
She looked at her, assessing the sincerity in her eyes. Part of her felt torn—she wanted to help, but she remembered she was the girl whom her ex-husband chose above her. She was the perfect definition of the type of woman he wanted. The scars from the past weren't easy for her to forget.
She glanced at Akash, who had an unreadable gaze.
Well, he never gave out loans, no matter the person.
She turned to Divya and whispered, "How much do you need?"
"Five million," she replied, and Anita's eyes widened.
She bit her lip, carefully choosing her next words. "Will you be using the whole amount at once?"
"No," Divya said softly, "I'll spend it gradually."
She took a deep breath, glancing at Akash again. She knew she couldn't give the loan, but an idea struck her. "I'm sorry, Divya, I can't lend you that amount. But... I have a suggestion, if you're open to it." She looked at Akash, whose expression shifted with curiosity.
Divya raised her brows, hesitant but willing to listen. "What do you suggest?"
"Instead of taking out a loan, why not rent out this house? You could ask for a two-year payment upfront. It's a spacious home in a prime neighbourhood; it should pay a good amount. You'd have steady income and wouldn't need to keep selling things."
Akash's lips curled into a small smile, impressed by her business sense.
Divya's brows knit together. "And... where would I go?"
"Come stay with me. My mother, my siblings, and I would love to have you. There's no point in staying here all alone, struggling every day. At my place, you'd have a family around you any time you feel down," she offered with a reassuring smile.
Her gaze softened. She swallowed, her voice faltering as she whispered, "You'd really have me stay with you?"
Anita reached her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "Yes. You're now like a sister to me. You don't have to do this alone."
She took a shaky breath, nodding. "Thank you... I don't know what to say. I'll think about it."
*****
After they walked back to the car, Akash wrapped an arm around her shoulders, his voice filled with admiration. "You're something else, you know that?"
She looked up, smiling briefly. "Like?"
He leaned in, brushing his lips against her forehead with an adoration that made her heart flutter. "The best."
****
They left Divya's house late, so by the time they reached the restaurant, it was already past one.
"Are you not going to work today?" she asked because he followed her inside.
"I don't want to leave you for even a moment."
They stepped into the elevator, and it ascended to the restaurant's middle floor.
"Good afternoon, Didi," one of the staff members greeted her when the elevator doors opened. She'd always insisted that the staff call her "Didi." The worker shifted his gaze respectfully to Akash. "Good afternoon, Sir!"
"Afternoon. Are the reporters here yet?" she asked, referring to the media she was expecting.
"Yes, they're in the meeting room," he replied.
Her face relaxed a bit. "How long have they been waiting? I hope I didn't keep them waiting too long."
"They just arrived, not long ago," he assured her, though they'd actually been waiting for about thirty minutes.
They proceeded to the meeting room, where the reporters had already set up their equipment.
The cameras were angled precisely, ring lights radiating a bright shine, microphones lined up, and wires snaking across the floor, all ready for her arrival.
Her gaze swept over the setup, and she gave the reporters a small smile, which they returned enthusiastically.
Greetings flowed back and forth as she and Akash shook hands with each of them.
Noticing the empty table, she raised a brow. "Did they not bring anything to drink? Just give me a moment." She excused herself to arrange refreshments.
Akash then settled into a white executive chair, its cool leather pressing against his back.
The reporters joined him around the table, filling the air with the soft rustling of notes and adjustments to their equipment.
One of them leaned forward, a friendly smile on his face. "We're pleased to have you here with us," he said.
Akash's expression remained undisturbed, his voice cool, and he replied. "But I'm not here to answer questions, nor do I intend to be on camera."
The reporter chuckled nervously at the firmness in his tone, but regardless, he tried once more, "Just a few, if you don't mind..."
The room fell silent as Akash's gaze sharpened.
Moments later, Anita returned, accompanied by a waiter carrying a tray of chilled juices and an assortment of snacks. The glasses were filled with a red-pink liquid and condensation dripping down the sides.
The sweet, refreshing scent of watermelon replenished the room after the glasses were set on the table, along with the snacks.
Anita gestured toward the spread. "Please, help yourselves."
She then settled into one of the executive chairs beside Akash.
He leaned in and murmured, "Where's your phone?"
"I left it in your car. Why?"
He shook his head. "Nothing important. Want me to have it brought in?"
"No need," she replied with a soft smile. "I tend to misplace it when I keep it close."
"We're all set. If you're ready, we can begin," one of the reporters announced.
"Of course," she nodded, brushing her hair behind her ear.
They moved the microphone closer to her, and the reporter positioned himself, adjusting the focus in the camera, while Anita took a steady breath, preparing for the first question.
The reporter adjusted his tie and leaned in with a practiced grin. "Hello, lovely viewers! I'm Muhammed Azeez, here with another inspiring episode of India's Entrepreneurs. Today, I have with me the beautiful Anita Deshmukh—"
"Just Anita," she corrected with a warm, modest smile. He chuckled and nodded.
"Of course, Anita. Just Anita, whose name has become prominent overnight." He paused, then asked with a curious tilt of his head, "Miss or Mrs.?"
Anita glanced briefly at Akash, who was already watching her closely.
"Miss," she answered simply.
Muhammed nodded, then leaned forward. "So, Miss Anita, let's dive in. Everyone is eager to know about you. You've come onto the scene so suddenly and joined ranks with some of India's top business minds. Tell us: Who is Anita? Where did you come from, and how did you find yourself collaborating with such influential partners?"
She hesitated for a brief moment, gathering her thoughts, before speaking. "Well," she began, her voice soft yet firm. "I suppose my journey started with a dream—to escape my destiny. You know, I used to watch motivational stories, and back then, I'd roll my eyes, because I believed they were all lies. And now, hearing my own story... I'm sure others will think it's a lie too." She smiled, glancing briefly at the camera before looking back at Muhammad.
"Why do you think that? Well, sorry, first Anita, introduce yourself and share with us how you managed to partner with some of India's most successful businessmen." he replied.
She nodded, a thoughtful look crossing her face. "I'm Anita, originally from Mewat. Though I've lived in Banaras, my roots are in Mewat." She paused, casting another brief look at Akash before releasing a quiet sigh. "When I first came to Mumbai from Banaras, I was completely alone—no job, no money, nothing. At least in Banaras, after my divorce, I could sweep temple floors to earn a little. But here in Mumbai... I didn't even have that. This city has high standards of qualifications I didn't meet."
Her gaze grew distant, and her voice softened. "One day, someone said something that broke me. I reached a point where I thought there was nothing left, and... I walked into the path of an oncoming car." She paused, her words hanging heavy in the air, while the reporters and camera crew looked at her, wide-eyed and silent. "That car belonged to a person who later became very important to me, someone who eventually introduced me to my business partners."
Akash's eyes softened as he listened. Anita smiled at him, a quiet gratitude in her expression. "It's strange, isn't it?" she continued, her voice scarcely reaching a whisper. "Sometimes, the worst moments are what lead us to our best paths."
Muhammed leaned further, becoming intrigued. "How did that happen? Did he introduce you to his friends directly?"
She shook her head with a small smile playing on her lips. "No, not directly. One night, I made coffee for him, and he said it was really good. He suggested that if I made the same coffee for his friends and they liked it, they might be interested in investing." She looked down for a moment, reliving the memory. "So, I did just that. I poured my heart into making each cup, and eventually... well, it led to something much bigger than I ever imagined."
Muhammad's eyes sparkled with interest. "That coffee—people have been raving about it! We've tasted it too, and it really is incredible. Some say it's the best in all of India." He chuckled before continuing. "Though, I must ask, there's a rumour that this coffee is somehow enchanted, prepared with a touch of mysticism to keep people coming back. Is there any truth to that?"
Anita burst into laughter. She shook her head, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Mysticism in coffee? Really?" She managed to compose herself, though a smile still remained on her lips. "Why would anyone go to such lengths? No, there's no magic in the coffee. People are free to think what they like, but if anyone's that curious, they're welcome to come by the kitchen tomorrow morning at 7:00. It'll be open for an hour, just to show how this 'enchanted coffee' is actually made."
Akash chuckled softly beside her, while the crew laughed too.
"You heard her, our lovely viewers. Are we allowed to join in?" the reporter asked, and she shrugged nonchalantly.
"Without the camera, of course."
The reporter nodded, shifting to the next question. "So, what food or drink sells the most here?"
She chuckled lightly, "The mystic coffee. It sells the most because it has this incredible ability to calm depressed souls, breathe new life into you, and make you feel energetic and young again. That's the magic of it!"
However, the mood shifted as the reporter leaned and his tone became serious. "Well, there's a rumour circulating about you. They say you secured your partnerships after sleeping with all your partners. Is there any truth to that?"
Her laughter faded, replaced by a look of disbelief. She raised an eyebrow, "Really? Is that rumour still circulating?"
He nodded, his tone shifting slightly more seriously. "It's a rumour that's been circulating, and I think our viewers deserve a clear answer."
"Let me be clear. I built my partnerships on hard work and dedication, not on anything else. If people want to believe in rumours like that, it says more about them than it does about me."
The atmosphere in the room swerved into tension while the reporters exchanged glances.
"People often try to undermine women, especially in business dominated by men," she continued, her voice gaining strength. "I refuse to let those gossip dictate my worth or my achievements. I earned my place here, and I will continue to do so."
Muhammed nodded, "So you're saying the rumours are completely false?"
"Absolutely," she affirmed, crossing her arms. "I refuse to let anyone diminish my accomplishments with baseless accusations. I stand by the integrity of my work and the relationships I've built which are all pure and sacred."
Write a comment ...