(this book is under going editing but you can still read it)
Inayat, a 25-year-old with a heart of gold, has been navigating life solo since a tragic accident took her parents and her memories. Raised in an orphanage, she stepped into the world at 1...
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VEER POV: -
I wake up to the insistent beep of my alarm. Glancing at the time, I see it's almost 8am. Damn! I'm late. I spring up from the bed and grab my clothes for a quick shower.
By the time I make it downstairs, it's already 8:30. Inayat is in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. "Good morning," I greet her as I head over to the coffee maker to brew my morning cup. "Good morning," she replies, a warm smile lighting up her face. "What are you making?" I ask, my curiosity piqued. "It's a bread omelette. Here, this one's for you. I'll bring your coffee," she says, passing me a plate. "Thank you," I respond, taking a seat on a stool by the shelf directly across from where Inayat is standing. She's wearing a V-neck dress adorned with a floral print.
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"Here's your coffee," she places it on the shelf. "Thank you, cupcake," I respond, and she smiles. "Are you going to the studio?" I ask. "No, not today. I mostly go once or twice a week. Other days, I'm home or sometimes I visit the orphanage. It's been a while since I visited the orphanage, so I'm going there," she says as she sits opposite me with her plate and orange juice. My phone rings and I see Neel calling, so I pick up.
"Yes?" I answer. "Sir, the media is going crazy about you and Inayat ma'am. They are making false news and spreading it everywhere. You need to handle it soon or it can affect-", he starts to explain but I cut him off, "I'm coming. Arrange a press conference." I say and end the call. "Cupcake, I'm going but I suggest you stay home for today, don't go anywhere," I tell her. "Why?" she asks. "Please, angel, you have to trust me. Okay?" I say and she nods in agreement. "Please don't go anywhere," I say and kiss her forehead before leaving.
"Sir, who was the girl with you yesterday?" "Is she your girlfriend?" "Are you up for an Alliance?" Everyone is asking questions; it feels like I'm standing in the middle of a flock (a group of sheep/goats). "I very well know it's your job to follow us everywhere and make news out of small matters, but you should know when to interfere and when not to. You all have personal lives too; how would you feel if I asked something personal about your life?" I retort, silencing them all.
