This is a yarn of two best friends who met via social media and were inseparable and then how they met two other best friends and fell in love .
AASHIKA SINGH is sweet and generous with a sunshine vibe
whereas
MAYRA KAPOOR is rogue and savage wit...
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After four grueling days at the event in Udaipur, my brain felt like it had been put through a blender, but duty called, so I dragged myself into the office. The thought of what might have gone down in my absence kept me on edge. Despite a four-hour drive, I made it to the office by 9 a.m. sharp, ready to face whatever chaos awaited.
Turning to my assistant, I demanded a status update on the office affairs and any crucial news. She delivered the blow that our company had been ranked second in the architectural business, a success tainted by Mr. Khurana's meddling. Fury boiled within me as I contemplated yet another instance of his unchecked power. Rejecting the job of another journalist was a small sacrifice in the larger battle against him, but I couldn't approach me drastic measures because it will only lead to tarnishing my own reputation and jeopardizing company relations.
Just as I stewed in my indignation, my assistant dropped the bombshell that Mr. Khurana had organized a party in a week's time, and we had a VIP invitation. The mere thought of facing that despicable man churned my stomach, but I knew attending was necessary to plot his downfall.
Turning my attention to the competition, I discovered a new name in the mix: Mayra Kapoor, ranking third. I promptly dispatched Aadvik to gather intel on her. Was she a determined upstart or merely a female counterpart like Mr. Khurana? Only time would tell.
Within minutes, Aadvik's response lit up my phone:
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Classy Aadvik. He filled me in with the knowledge like he'd known her for ages, even though they were total strangers. Finally that bastard was of some use. But he won't grow up, why would I be in love with a person I never even met. Aadvik being aadvik.
I reluctantly flipped open my laptop, emails inundated my screen, demanding my attention. With a swift click, I dispatched the irrelevant messages into the abyss of the digital void. Then, amidst the clutter, Mayra Kapoor's name glared at me from the subject line of her email.
Rolling my eyes, I delved into the contents. Of course, she'd play it smart, attempting to lure me into some collaboration scheme. It's not like she wasn't aware of my capabilities, but her strategic maneuvers grated on my last nerve.
