Unwritten Vows

Mira Mehta

Under the vibrant Mumbai sky, where dreams danced and ambitions soared, Mira Mehta strode into her chaotic world with a confidence that could light up even the dullest boardroom. Her thick, wavy hair bounced as she walked, a fiery testament to her fiery spirit, and her bold, colorful outfits clashed beautifully with the corporate monotony that surrounded her. She was the storm in a teacup—a whirlwind of sass and sharp wit, effortlessly charming yet unapologetically fierce.

But behind her playful smirk lay the pressure of expectations, especially from her mother, who was determined to find her the "perfect match."

As she answered her mother's call, Mira braced herself for yet another lecture on love and duty, knowing full well that her heart yearned for something beyond the confines of an arranged marriage.

"Mira, beta, you must come home this evening," her mother's voice rang out. "I've arranged a dinner for you to meet a very eligible young man."

Mira rolled her eyes, placing the phone on speaker so she could rummage through her vanity drawer. "Mom, I'm working late. Again."

"Work can wait! Just be home by seven, alright?" Her mother's tone left no room for negotiation, blending sweet insistence with gentle guilt, as always.

"Yes, yes, fine," Mira replied, knowing it was pointless to argue. "But I'm not promising anything more than polite small talk."

Her mother let out an indulgent laugh. "Such drama, Mira. Just get to know him."

"Fine, but I'm not the one writing a matrimonial column about it, alright?"

Mrs. Mehta launched into gossip as Mira tuned out, noticing her thick, wavy hair in a messy bun and her lively, dark eyes. Her colorful style stood out in the corporate world, but she didn't mind.

After ending the call, Mira stepped into the chaotic Mumbai streets, greeted by car horns and bustling pedestrians. The energy was oddly invigorating, reminding her why she chose this life over her parents' mansion.

Mira arrived at Kapoor Industries, where she was just another junior assistant, keeping her family's influence out of the picture. The sleek, efficient building felt at odds with her colorful style and sharp wit.

Known for her intelligence and bold opinions, Mira stood out among the assistants. Her persistence and drive, inherited from her parents, drew attention—sometimes for better, sometimes for worse.

As she took her place at her desk, her phone buzzed again. This time it was Simran Malhotra, her best friend and confidante, video-calling from her design studio, where she worked as a fashion designer.

"Mira! Look what I'm working on!" Simran exclaimed, showing off a sleek green sari draped over a mannequin. "The color is stunning, right? I swear, this will be the highlight of my next line."

"Sim, you always know what I like," Mira replied, smiling. "When you're a big-time designer dressing celebrities, don't forget I was here before the fame."

Simran smirked. "Please. You'll be the first on my list. Speaking of, have you dodged another suitor yet? Auntie messaged me, said she found someone 'extremely eligible.'"

"Oh, you have no idea," Mira sighed. "She managed to trap me for dinner tonight. I'll be sitting there for hours while Mom tries to make me look 'respectable.'"

Simran laughed. "At least tell me it's someone charming. Maybe someone like... Ayaan Kapoor?"

Mira scoffed. "Ayaan Kapoor? The CEO of this place?" She rolled her eyes. "That man is so arrogant he probably thinks I exist to make his coffee."

"Still, though, he's attractive," Simran teased.

"Oh, come on. He's hardly my type. The whole 'brooding, silent CEO' vibe is a bit much. And besides, the last thing I need is a man who thinks he's God's gift to the corporate world."

"Careful, Mira. That could be your husband you're talking about." Simran winked, earning an eye-roll from Mira.

"Please. That's never happening," Mira replied. "Anyway, I'd better go. Wish me luck dealing with Kapoor's latest 'urgent' requests."

As the call ended, Mira adjusted her blouse, preparing for a day of paperwork, coffee runs, and event planning. Though just a junior assistant, she found it thrilling to carve her path without relying on her parents' wealth or influence

Just as she settled at her desk, a message popped up on her screen from her manager, Mr. Iyer: Please report to Mr. Kapoor's office at your earliest convenience.

Mira's eyebrows raised in surprise—it wasn't typical for junior assistants to be summoned by the CEO. Steeling herself, she headed to the executive floor, where quiet power seemed to fill the air. Approaching Ayaan Kapoor's office, a flicker of nerves hit her; his aloof, intimidating reputation was well-known.

She knocked, and a low, composed voice replied, "Come in."

Upon entering, Mira saw Ayaan Kapoor intently focused on his laptop, his striking presence evident. Tall and sharply dressed, his unreadable face and assessing dark eyes made her feel ruffled, though she refused to show it.

"Miss Mehta," he said, gesturing to a chair without looking away from his screen. "We need additional support for the upcoming gala. I understand you have experience in event planning?"

She blinked, surprised that he knew even that small detail about her. "Yes, I've handled events in the past."

"Good," he replied, still typing. "You'll coordinate with the team to finalize guest lists and arrangements."

Mira nodded, keeping her expression neutral. "Understood."

He paused, looking up from his laptop. For a brief moment, there was something close to a smile—if only an amused twitch at the corner of his mouth. "Punctuality will be expected."

She gave a tight, forced smile. "Of course."

"Good. You're dismissed," he replied, his gaze dropping back to his screen with the same distant efficiency as before. Mira stood and left, her mind buzzing. She wasn't sure whether to be annoyed at his curt manner or intrigued by the quiet, effortless authority he exuded.

As Mira returned to her desk, she noticed her fists were clenched and quickly relaxed them, annoyed that Ayaan's condescending tone had affected her. She resolved to handle his gala perfectly, determined to prove she was more than just another assistant.

By the time she reached her desk, another message from her mother lit up her phone, reminding her about dinner. Mira groaned, dreading the thought of enduring another "family-approved" date after her long day with Kapoor.

When evening came, Mira dressed in her usual mix of defiance and style, opting for an edgy, unconventional look. She arrived at the restaurant to see her mother's eager face light up, bracing herself for yet another dull suitor.

The man across from her was polite and predictable, but as the dinner dragged on, Mira's thoughts drifted back to work and the upcoming gala. Annoyingly, her mind also wandered to her cold, unreadable CEO, and she was determined to rise to the challenge he presented.

"Are you listening?" her mother's voice snapped her back to reality.

"Hmm? Yes, Mom, of course," Mira replied with forced enthusiasm.

As dinner ended, Mira felt relief returning to her small apartment, the city lights flickering outside. Reflecting on her encounter with Ayaan, she steeled herself; she wouldn't be just another face in his company.

With a tired but determined smile, she set her alarm and fell into bed.

•°•°•°•°•°

So.... this was our FL's intro, did you guys like her? Do comment!

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