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...
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༘⋆🌷🫧💭₊˚ෆ
𝐁𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐠𝐢 𝐒𝐢 𝐁𝐡𝐚𝐚𝐠𝐢 𝐒𝐢
तुझे देखा तो खिला हूँ, तेरे चाहत में धुला हूँ, मिले मंदिर में खुदा जो, मैं तो तुझमें यूँ मिला हूँ
📓
M A H I R
01: 17 Pm, 11th May, Sunday, Luxura Apartments, New Delhi
The moment I step into the living room, my irritation levels spike like a broken stock market. Vanya is curled up on the loveseat, legs swinging off one side, head resting on the other, a book in her hands. If I squint, I can almost see the steam of concentration radiating off of her. Her arm is raised mid-air like she's frozen in some half-assed punishment, and she's so absorbed that she doesn't even acknowledge my presence.
But it's not her that pisses me off. It's the two freeloaders making themselves way too comfortable in my space.
Moksh is sprawled out on the couch, snoring softly, with one of Vanya's books splayed across his face like he died mid-sentence. Not surprising, considering he's been on a break from shooting for weeks now, doing modeling gigs instead. But what's truly infuriating is the sight of Nayan, lounging on my sofa, flipping through a book like he owns the damn place.
Something inside me snaps.
I walk past him and knock his legs off the coffee table without a word. He jerks up with an offended grunt, shooting me a glare. I ignore him because my attention is locked on Vanya, who—despite my annoyance—looks too peaceful, too unbothered, as if she's ascended to some higher plane of existence where she doesn't have to deal with me.
Which, in the past two weeks, has become her favorite pastime: pretending I don't exist when she's mad at me.
"You know, there are comfortable positions. But by all means, sacrifice your neck for that novel," I say, only to be ignored, like usual.
Ever since I announced she'd be my assistant, she's been sassing me left and right. At this point, I think I hear her cursing me in my sleep. Meanwhile, Kaya practically did a happy dance when I told her to oversee other departments for a while, immediately choosing the graphics department like I had gifted her a free vacation.
I plop onto the couch, only to feel something dig into my tailbone. I yank it out, already sighing.
A damn hardcover.
I hold it up and look at Vanya pointedly. "Why can't you put your books back where they belong?"
She doesn't even look up. But I feel the sassy dragon breath before she mutters, "Why can't you put your emotions back where you hide them?"
