Arranged marriage was an age-old story that Khushi, the youngest of the infamous Gupta family, who revolutionized and dominated the trading market for generations, knew well.
For it was the only thing she heard growing up.
But that neither prepared...
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Khushi was having a bad day.
It was exactly a week since her father's admission in Abhaya Hospital and once again, she had woken up restless, more tired than she had been the night before. There was just something about the air in Gupta Manor that refused to let her mind be at peace. Perhaps it was the remnants of her childhood, the majority of which, of course, she had spent pining to escape the humongous mansion and its suffocating customs.
Or perhaps it was the lack of people in it.
Khushi refused to go down that road, grimly reminding herself that the penthouse too was inhabited only by two people, and she had nowhere felt as alone there as she did here.
Besides, it wasn't that Gupta Manor was really empty. It housed at least a dozen staff, all who woke up at the crack of dawn, drenching the house in an array of sounds. After the scare of Alok's heart attack, most of them had been thankful for her presence, saying that post Vihaan's departure to London the house had felt lifeless to them. They spent much of the initial days getting her room unnecessarily dusted and cleaned, filling the vases with her cherished orchid flowers, and cooking up all her favourite dishes.
Khushi genuinely appreciated these efforts... Well, she tried to. Truth be told, the kitchen staff, although loyal to the family and expertly trained by her mother, were no match–
"Ugh."
Khushi set down the morning cup of coffee she had just made the mistake of sipping. She was seated alone at the dining table, looking at the variety of food spread wide in front of her.
"What's this?" she asked, trying to sound polite.
The butler, Ramesh, scurried forward. "Um, coffee ma'am. It's made exactly the way you had asked."
Khushi gritted her teeth and almost in reflex, she saw Ramesh's shoulders hang in shame. He prided himself on serving the Gupta family for years, going on to become Alok's most trusted in a span of few short years. So needless to say, he took disappointment with his services too seriously.
"It's fine," Khushi said, standing up and leaving her breakfast untouched. God knew what horrors lay there.
"I can get something else made, ma'am?"
Khushi didn't reply.
Deep down, she knew it wasn't their fault. She had been asking the chefs to change the coffee recipe almost every single day since her arrival, hoping that one of them would result in a taste similar, if not identical, to the one she used to have in the penthouse. Clearly, it wasn't going to happen. Because what was missing was not the recipe, but the chef who used to make it.
"Papa will be discharged in the morning," she told Ramesh. They were at the main door now, where her driver was patiently waiting. "You can expect him to be home by lunch."
