BOOK ONE OF THE SWEET AND SOUR SERIES
Vanya Sharma hated marriages. Growing up seeing troubled and failed marriages carved a bitter spot in her heart, especially when one of them belonged to her parents. While escaping the shadows of her past, she f...
I wake up in a quiet room, the morning light filtering in through the curtains. Mahir is nowhere to be seen. A small grin tugs at my lips as I remember his exasperated reactions from last night. Maybe, just maybe, this arrangement won't be as unbearable as I thought. If he loosens up, we could even be friends. Heck, I could even play matchmaker for him and Nayan if he lets me.
With a yawn, I stretch and head to the bathroom for a long shower, washing away the exhaustion of the past few days. Once done, I drape myself in a soft powder blue net saree with delicate embroidery and pair it with a white blouse.
As I brush through my damp hair, my thoughts wander to the things I missed amidst the chaos, like how Kavya got home and where Dravya vanished. A snippet of memory resurfaces—Kaya Ma'am and Dravya bickering about something. Hmm, I'll have to interrogate him once I'm back at the office tomorrow.
Stepping out of the room, I realize something strange—the entire penthouse is eerily quiet. "Unbelievable," I mutter under my breath, irritated. No message, no note, nothing! Mahir just left me here. Alone. At a place I barely know. Typical khadoos!
Huffing, I tie the pallu of my saree around my waist and make my way to the kitchen. If no one else cares, I'll at least make myself breakfast. As I chop veggies for pancakes, my irritation grows further. "Of course, Mr. Patthar Oberoi would leave without informing me. Manners? Nah. Communication? Absolutely not. I'm married to a walking storm cloud!"
I'm midway through cursing the Khadoos when a throat clears behind me. I freeze, spatula in hand, and slowly turn around. Standing there, looking all too amused, is Moksh. And behind him? Mahir, with an irritated scowl that could fry the pancakes faster than my stove.
A nervous laugh escapes me as I awkwardly squeak, "Hi."
Moksh, carrying a basket overflowing with fruits, clothes and dry goods, sets it down on the counter. "Mom called bhai over for something this morning. She also said you're expected at the Oberoi mansion tonight—for the first rasoi and muh dikhai."
I nod, my smile faltering slightly at the reminder of the impending ceremonies. Moksh takes a deep sniff of the air and perks up. "What smells so good?"
"Vegetable pancakes," I reply.
"Mind if I join?" he asks with an eager grin, already pulling a stool closer. I nod, watching as he sits down expectantly.
