Yeh Mera Deewanapan Hai🍂🏵️🍂

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In the vibrant chaos of Pune, amidst the cacophony of honking horns and the hum of life, stood a towering building of opulence and elegance.

The glass façade shimmered under the sunlight, reflecting the city's hustle, while the imposing structure exuded an air of authority and wealth.

On the 10th floor of this architectural marvel resided the office of Sambhav Maheshwari, the CEO of Maheshwari Enterprises.

The office, a masterpiece of modern design, was a blend of stark minimalism and undeniable luxury, much like the man himself.

Sambhav Maheshwari, the epitome of perfection, sat behind a massive mahogany desk.

His presence dominated the room, and his mood, currently dark and stormy, made the air feel heavy.

His sharp features were set in a scowl as his piercing eyes scanned the presentation on his tablet.

The employees standing before him squirmed under his gaze, visibly uncomfortable.

The reason for his ire?

Their half-baked presentation on the proposed restaurant launch for their FMCG expansion.

Loopholes riddled the plan like swiss cheese, and Sambhav was seething.

He slammed the tablet onto his desk, making everyone flinch.

"This-" he said, his voice low and simmering with restrained fury, "-is a disgrace. Were you all asleep while putting this together? Investors won't just laugh at us; they'll blacklist us!"

Malhar Gupta, his secretary, stood to the side, watching his colleagues with a mix of sympathy and exasperation.

He had warned them-warned them repeatedly-to double-check every detail, but they hadn't listened.

And now, the devil was out, breathing fire.

Sambhav's glare turned to Malhar, and the latter straightened instinctively. "Malhar, you're fired," Sambhav declared, his tone cutting.

Malhar sighed, barely suppressing an eye roll.

This wasn't his first rodeo.

Sambhav had a habit of "firing" him whenever his temper boiled over, but Malhar knew the drill.

He wasn't going anywhere-not unless Sambhav found someone else who could tolerate his impossible demands and temper tantrums.

"Yes, sir," Malhar said dryly, gesturing to the cowering employees. "You heard the man. Out. Now."

The team mumbled their apologies and fled the room, promising to deliver a flawless proposal next time.

Sambhav's glare followed them until the door shut.

Malhar, unfazed, placed a glass of water on the desk in front of Sambhav. "Here, sir," he said.

Sambhav glared at the water, then at Malhar, but finally picked it up and downed it in one go. "You'd better make sure they get it right this time, Malhar," he growled. "If this happens again-"

"Of course, sir," Malhar interrupted smoothly, "you'll fire me. Again."

Sambhav narrowed his eyes. "What's your salary, Malhar?"

Malhar raised an eyebrow. "Why do you ask, sir?"

"Just answer."

Malhar smirked, leaning on the edge of the desk. "Sir, ladkiyon se unki umar aur ladkon se unki kamai nahi puchte. Bad manners."