The Broken Vow

3

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Aahana Agnihotri & Adarsh Khanna 

Aahana Agnihotri 

I stepped into the opulent lobby of the Golden Hour Serenade, Phuket's latest seven-star hotel, and despite its grandeur, it did nothing more than annoy me. How I wished I was here for a party. As if getting arrested at that party last week wasn't humiliating enough, now I was stuck attending this dull company retreat for the next three days.

Being forced to mingle with a bunch of boring people and engage in meaningless small talk with brown-nosers all because I was arrested because of a silly misunderstanding was an overkill in my opinion. At least I wasn't forced to attend the corporate training on top of this retreat.

My heels clicked against the marble floor, a staccato rhythm that matched my simmering irritation. I huffed, blowing a loose strand of hair away from my face. This was going to be the worst get away ever. I caught glimpses of myself in the mirrored pillars. I looked out of place in my long floral red dress, a stark contrast to the crisp business attire of the other people in the lobby.

The woman at the desk greeted me with a wai, hands pressed together in a respectful bow. I nodded. "Aahana Agnihotri."

"Let me check," she said, typing away on her computer. I tapped my nails on the glass desk as I glanced around the lobby. A few employees recognized me, nodding and smiling politely at me. I plastered a fake smile and focused my attention back to the woman.

"How long will this take?" I asked, my frustration increasing. My mother's secretary had texted me that my room would be ready for me when I arrived, but apparently not.

"Ms. Agnihotri?"

I forced myself to smile widely as I turned to face the man calling my name. One glance at the man and my heart began to race. My breath came out in short, sharp gasps as the man continued walking towards me.

"It has been ages," he said warmly, oblivious to the panic rising in my throat. "Your father mentioned you'd be here." He held out his hand, but I made no attempt to take it. "I'm Manohar Verma. I-"

"The CFO. I'm aware," I managed to say, my voice tight. I shook his hand for a brief moment, wrenching my hand back the moment I felt his fingers tighten around my palm. "How are you?"

"I'm fine. How have you been?" he asked with a wide smile.

"Good," I said, focusing on anything else other than his face. The older man's eyes lacked malice, but they bore an uncanny resemblance to those that haunted her nightmares for years.

"Growing more beautiful every time I see you," Mr. Verma continued, taking a step closer. His proximity was suffocating, and I could feel my control slipping.

"Thank you," I replied mechanically, my mind racing for an escape. I clutched the fabric of my dress tighter, my knuckles turning white.

"Your father must be proud, such an impressive young woman taking charge in the business world." He reached out, likely intending a friendly pat on the shoulder, but my messed up mind as usual perceived it like a threat.

"Please, don't—" I started sharply, stepping back so abruptly I almost tripped. Mr. Verma retracted his hand, confusion etching his features.

"Are you alright, Aahana? You seem... distressed."

"Air. I need air," I blurted out, her voice trembling. "I'm waiting outside. Let me know when my room is ready." Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel and hurried toward the glass doors leading outside, my breaths coming in ragged gulps.