BOOK ONE OF THE SUGAR AND SWEET 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...
Vanya Sharma is a sassy, two-feet-tall Smurf with elf-like pride.
Okay, maybe not two feet, but close enough when she's stomping around like she owns every square inch of the universe—or at least my apartment.
I stride down the corridor, the sound of my shoes echoing against the marble, but all I can think about is her irritatingly smug face. Ever since that day she disappeared with Dravya two days ago, she's been... different. She'd come back late that night, giggling about something, her eyes sparkling with mischief, as if she hadn't left me simmering in mild—very mild—annoyance.
And ever since then, every time I try to talk to her, she sasses back like she's the CEO and I'm some intern who forgot to staple the papers.
One thing I deeply, irrevocably regret? Telling her to treat me informally during her early days at the office.
What was I thinking? Encouraging chaos wrapped in a five-foot frame and a superiority complex.
My jaw ticks as I remember our conversation from just the night before.
[Flashback]
I step into the living room after a late meeting, only to find Vanya's books scattered like confetti across the coffee table, the floor, and somehow, even the armrest of the couch.
Does she think knowledge multiplies if you leave it out in the open?
I stack them neatly into a pile, annoyed at the mess, and slap a sticky note on top:
"This isn't a library."
Satisfied with my subtle jab, I head to my room, victorious.
But karma, like Vanya, has a sharp sense of humor.
Later that night, fresh out of the shower with my hair still damp, I find a neon pink sticky note slapped onto my laptop. The bold handwriting mocks me.
