hard bank

wingman.

We parked the bike in front of UB City, the towering complex of luxury stores and restaurants gleaming under the city lights. Sanjana hopped off the bike first, her eyes scanning the sleek glass facade of the buildings, while I followed suit, feeling the weight of what I was about to do. Together, we walked towards the imposing red jewelry showroom that proudly bore the name "JR Gold" in large, golden letters. This was no ordinary jewelry store—it was a haven of luxury, known only to a select few who had the privilege of being counted among its VIP clientele.

The showroom belonged to my friend Rakesh's father, a man of wealth and kindness who often tipped us off about the latest exclusive pieces. I had received one such notification earlier—a heads-up about a new stock of gold necklaces and rings that were available only to their most valued customers. I knew I had to get something special, and I couldn’t think of a better place to find it.

As we walked through the grand entrance, the cool air-conditioning was a welcome relief from the warm Bangalore evening. The interior of the showroom was lavishly decorated, with marble floors, gold accents, and sparkling chandeliers that cast a warm glow over the jewelry displays. The air was thick with the scent of luxury, a blend of polished wood, expensive perfume, and the faintest hint of something floral. It was a place that commanded respect, a place where every piece of jewelry had a story, a legacy.

As I scanned the room, I spotted Rakesh lounging casually on a plush couch near the entrance. He looked up as we entered, a welcoming grin spreading across his face. Rakesh was more than just a friend—he was like a brother, someone who had always been there for me. He was set to inherit this magnificent showroom one day, and it was clear that he was already comfortable in the role.

I walked over to him, Sanjana trailing a step behind, her eyes still wide as she took in the grandeur of the place. She was clearly curious, and I could see the question forming on her lips.

“Why did we come here?” she finally asked, her voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of confusion.

“I need to buy a gift,” I replied simply, trying to keep my voice nonchalant.

“A gift? For who?” she pressed, her eyes narrowing slightly as she tried to piece it together. “And why did you bring me along to choose it?”

I turned to her, a small smile playing on my lips. “It’s for my mom and dad,” I explained. “I was planning to come here to pick something out on my own, but since you’re with me, I thought you could help me choose. Your opinion would mean a lot.”

Her expression softened a bit, though she still seemed a bit skeptical. “Why me, though?” she asked, her tone gentler now, as if she was genuinely curious about my reasoning.

I chuckled softly, trying to ease the tension. “You don’t have to help if you don’t want to,” I said, gesturing towards the plush chairs in the waiting area. “You can just chill here if you’d prefer.”

But Sanjana shook her head, a determined look in her eyes. “No, I’m interested,” she said firmly. “Let’s pick something nice.”

Satisfied, I turned back to Rakesh, who had been watching our exchange with mild amusement. He greeted me with a nod, and I explained what I was looking for.

“I need to see those exclusive VIP designs you’ve got in stock,” I said, my voice low and businesslike.

Rakesh didn’t waste any time. He stood up and led us through the showroom, past the glittering displays and the discerning clientele who were examining pieces with the intensity of art collectors. We took the elevator up to the second floor, where the real treasures were kept. As the doors opened, we stepped into a room that was the very definition of opulence.