In the heart of Mumbai's Vibrant chaous, Rhishav Shekhawat, 30-year-old CEO, strode in his Skyscraper office,a fortess build on ambition.
''Another deal, another victory,'' he muttered to himself,masking the emptiness dawing at his insides.
Meanwhil...
The shrill ring of my alarm clock pierced through the fog of sleep, dragging me back to reality. Groggily, I reached out to turn it off, my fingers fumbling in the dim morning light. For a moment, I lay there, staring at the ceiling and longing for the carefree days of my childhood. Back then, waking up at 4:00 AM seemed like a punishment, but now it felt like a simpler time.
With a reluctant sigh, I pushed myself out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom. The hot water from the shower was a welcome relief, washing away the remnants of sleep and coaxing my senses awake. I took my time, letting the steam envelop me, thinking about the day ahead. It was a small luxury, but it made the early start a little easier to bear.
Wrapped in a fluffy towel, I dressed in my usual work attire—simple but professional. As the CEO of Lioné , I had the autonomy to shape my own career, far removed from the shadows of my family's wealth. I had chosen this path deliberately; I wanted to be known as Kaira Singh, the successful designer, not just the daughter of Anmol Singh.
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Kaira's Dress
The pangs of resentment towards my family were always there, simmering beneath the surface. My father was perpetually tied up in meetings, my mother absorbed in her work. I often felt like an afterthought, though my brother, karan, had always been my rock. Even he, however, didn't know the full extent of the secrets I had buried deep inside me.
Today,at night Bhaiya was coming back from Italy after five long years. I was both excited and apprehensive. His return meant change, and perhaps a chance to mend some of the fractures in our family. I was especially eager to meet his significant other, the woman who would become my sister-in-law. I hoped she'd be someone who could understand the complexities of our lives.
I moved to the kitchen, a place I rarely frequented. With my cook on holiday for Mother's Day, I was left to fend for myself. Cooking had never been my forte—my brother had always kept me away from the kitchen—but I managed to whip up a simple breakfast of toast and eggs. As I cooked, I scrolled through my phone, glancing at the countless posts celebrating Mother's Day. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness. It had been ages since I'd shared a meal with my mother in a peaceful setting.
Breakfast was a quiet affair, just me and my thoughts. I finished eating and glanced at the clock. It was already 9:30, and I needed to get moving. Grabbing my purse and the project folder for the day, I headed out the door. Locking my apartment behind me, I made my way to the office.
The city was already buzzing with its usual energy as I drove through the streets. I looked forward to immersing myself in work, where I could escape the complexities of my personal life and focus on my designs. The office was a sanctuary of creativity and purpose, a place where I could be truly myself
