𝐑𝐚𝐚𝐛𝐭𝐚

1 | uninvited guest

Sheena

I

sat in my office, fingers gliding over the keyboard as I put the finishing touches on Aaravi’s release campaign.

My mind hummed with details: the social media posts, press releases, and exclusive interviews—all choreographed to perfection.

I couldn't help but smile at how smooth everything was going. Aaravi’s single was bound to be a hit, and I was set on making sure everyone knew it.

The sharp click of the door latch broke my concentration. I looked up, half-expecting an intern or maybe Anaya from the design team. Instead, he walked in—Dishant Singh Rajput.

He strolled in, dressed in a crisp white shirt, the top few buttons undone as if he’d just shrugged off the pressures of a long day on set. His dark hair was artfully tousled, and his usual smirk was firmly in place. The kind that said he was up to something.

"Can I help you?" I kept my voice even, though every instinct told me this wasn’t a casual visit. Knowing Dishant, he wasn’t here for a friendly chat.

"Oh, you certainly could, but that depends," he replied, that smirk deepening as he settled into the chair across from me.

"Spit it out," I said, crossing my arms. Dishant loved playing games, but I wasn’t here for it. "Some of us have actual work to do." I trailed my eyes back to the laptop screen.

He tilted his head, studying me with a look that bordered on admiration. "Always so serious, Sheena. But alright, I’ll make it easy for you, I want you to be my publicist."

I blinked, not sure if I’d heard him correctly. "Excuse me?"

“You heard me.” He leaned back, stretching his arms like he was settling into a negotiation he’d already won. "I need someone competent. Someone like you."

A scoff slipped out before I could stop it. "Mr. Rajput, I’m already contracted to Aaravi. In case you forgot, she’s my top priority."

His eyes sparkled with amusement, clearly unfazed. "So prioritize me, too. I promise, I’m more interesting than Aaravi’s... what is it this time? A heartbreak anthem?"

"Goodbye, Dishant," I said, gesturing toward the door. "I’m sure you’ll find another publicist more than eager to stroke your ego."

Instead of leaving, he leaned forward, a touch of seriousness slipping into his gaze. "I’m not kidding, Sheena. I need someone like you to manage the noise around me. You know how people love to talk, especially when it’s about my family."

For a split second, I felt a pang of sympathy. I’d seen the headlines, the endless speculation about his family, his background, and his so-called “nepo baby” label. But I wasn’t about to let that cloud my judgment.

"I’m not available," I replied, standing up to emphasize that our conversation was over.

He held up his hands in surrender, the smirk back on his lips. "Alright, alright. But don’t be too surprised if this isn’t the last time we talk about it." With a parting wink, he slipped out, leaving a faint trace of his cologne lingering in the air.

Men and their entitlement, I thought, rolling my eyes as I went back to my laptop, forcing myself to forget the brief interruption.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Later that Evening

Just as I was packing up, my phone buzzed with a message from Ms. Avantika Singh, the CEO of Halo Media Group.

Ms. Karmakar, I’d like a word in my office.

A chill ran through me. Ms. Singh wasn’t the type to call you in for a casual chat, especially not after hours. Sighing, I grabbed my bag and made my way to her office, dreading whatever “word” she wanted to have with me.

The moment I stepped in, Ms. Singh didn’t waste time with pleasantries. She was seated behind her large mahogany desk, perfectly poised in her tailored suit. She gestured for me to sit.

“I’m not sure if you’re aware,” she began, folding her hands neatly on the desk, “but Dishant Singh Rajput has requested you specifically as his publicist.”

I barely kept myself from rolling my eyes. “Yes, he mentioned it.”

Her eyebrow arched slightly. “And?”

“And I turned him down.” I shrugged, hoping that would be the end of it.

Ms. Singh’s expression didn’t change. “Sheena, let’s be clear. A request from Dishant Singh Rajput isn’t something we can dismiss so easily.”

“With all due respect, ma’am, I already have a full schedule with Aaravi’s projects. It’s not possible to take on another client at the same level.”

She let out a controlled sigh, her gaze steely. “Aaravi’s contract with us ends soon, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, but we’re negotiating a renewal. I’m certain she’ll stay with Halo.”

“Nonetheless,” she continued, her tone leaving no room for argument, “we’ve agreed to Dishant’s terms. You’ll be handling his public image going forward. I trust I don’t need to elaborate on the benefits his contract brings to Halo.”

I clenched my jaw, swallowing back a sharp response.

There was no point in arguing with Ms. Singh. She’d made her decision, and I was now officially tied to Dishant.

That idiot.

“Understood,” I said finally, rising from my chair.

“Good. I’ll expect a preliminary strategy report on my desk by next Monday,” she added, turning her attention back to her computer, dismissing me with a slight nod.

I left her office, my mind a storm of frustration.

I knew what she was doing. She’d cornered me, and in one calculated move, she’d ensured that I’d have no choice but to drop Aaravi’s contract and focus on Dishant.

On my way out of the building, I pulled out my phone and dialed Aaravi. I hated the idea of ending our professional relationship, but she deserved to hear it from me.

Ugh.