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I exhaled slowly, feeling the pleasant lightness spread through my muscles after the last stretch of my workout. Morning exercise had always been my mood-lifter—it cleared my head before the chaos began. And chaos it always was: signing deals, attending back-to-back meetings, sitting with national and international clients, enduring business parties, dinners, and even endless property visits.
From the wide gym window, I let my eyes rest on the sprawling garden below—lush with flowers and tall trees, dotted with shaded seating areas. All of it lay within my estate walls, my private little paradise. The early sunlight spilled over it, making the scene almost too beautiful to look away from.
I was still lost in the calm when my phone rang, slicing through the peace like an irritating alarm. I groaned at the noise, turned, and picked it up from the chair beside me.
"Yes, Anika speaking."
"Dr. Anika, this is Mrs. Donatella Goodenough. Good morning to you."
"Oh—morning, Mrs. Goodenough. What’s the reason for such an early call?" I asked, patting my face dry with the white towel a maid had handed me.
"You’re quite famous worldwide, Dr. Anika," she said in her usual refined, elegant tone.
Despite the air of grace that clung to her, Mrs. Donatella Goodenough was—ironically—good for nothing.
"You have a point," I replied evenly. "But let’s get to the point, please. I have meetings to attend soon."
"Of course. I had booked an appointment with your secretary two weeks ago. I wanted to personally request that you walk the runway for our new line—our designers have created a dress especially inspired by your fashion sense."
I had known this was coming; I’d already turned the offer down once.
"Mrs. Goodenough, I don’t have time for a runway right now. I’ll be leaving for a month-long business trip to Italy starting tomorrow. You’ll need to find someone else. Have a nice day."
And with that, I hung up.
I don’t walk for brands so insignificant that even one-tenth of India’s population has never heard of them.
Sliding the phone into the pocket of my shorts, I stepped out of the second-floor gym and started toward my own floor—the third. My mansion was organized like my life: the ground floor held the main living area, the first floor was my office and study, the second was the gym, and the third was entirely my private space.
I headed for the lift, but my thoughts wandered as they often did.
Life is unpredictable. One moment you’re blowing out candles with your parents smiling beside you, the next they’re gone. Sometimes life gives you the sweetest gifts, but its cruelest blows leave wounds that never close.
