Suhani Malhotra scanned through the file sent by her manager about Ranveer Dhoopar. She had arrived at the cafe - their chosen destination for their meets - before they decided time. She had had her manager dig up information about the man, for she yearned to unearth the mysterious woman who, according to Aanchal, enchanted him beyond rationality.

B. Tech in Computer Science from IIT Madras.

M. S in Statistics and Data Science from Stanford University.

Distance business courses from Stanford Graduate School of Business.

The exasperated woman rolled her eyes at the details mentioned in the file. Did her manager think she was planning to hire Ranveer Dhoopar? The Wharton alumnus shook her head at the mere thought of hiring the rising entrepreneur. Their working styles were as different as they were as people.

While the data analyst enjoyed adventurousness, she preferred to keep the ball in her court and not aim so high that the fall would be devastating. She prized steadiness, and he relished the adrenaline rush, and hiring him would rush the greying of her hair.

The file did not list any confirmed relationships of the man, apart from Aanchal. A disgruntled growl resonated in her voice box at her manager's failure to discover something novel. She pushed the phone away from her after returning to home-screen.

Little did she know she was not the only one to face defeat in the quest to unravel the innumerable knots that concealed the truth.

Ranveer Dhoopar had set out on the mission of clearing the webs of assumptions and acquaint himself to old friends of Suhani Malhotra. For the entirety of his life, he had known her to be the pride of Mohit Malhotra.

But what he had witnessed at her home, with the veils drawn away and curtains dropped, made him question his notions.

The man who had affectionately named her his 'princess' now loomed over her with a blazing scorn, not hesitating to berate her in front of a mere family friend. His daughter's formerly warm eyes were replaced by an icy mask, filled with the hardened callousness of past pain.

The private investigator hired by him had sent his preliminary findings, and they were nothing of surprise to him.

Lost her mother at nine.

Chartered Accountant.

MBA in Finance from The Wharton School of the University of Pennsylvania.

There was a blank space after the colon next to 'relationships', which made him arch his eyebrow, but there was no surprise twinkling in his eyes. Although a relationship would explain the proposition placed by her, he had never observed an inkling of chemistry between Suhani and the regulars at the parties.

The document detailed a sour relationship between the subject of his curiosity and her father's former manager. Ranveer brought the phone closer and the edges of his eyes tightened. Only if he could demand answers from the man with a perpetual stern look.

The man would embrace aggressive displeasure of any kind before he divulged any secrets privy to him. He had, after all, taken a bullet aimed for Mohit Malhotra when a bereaved son fired at him after losing his mother to an adverse effect of drug produced by the pharmaceutical company helmed by the Malhotras.

"We're here, sir."

His driver's words made his eyes flick out of the window to find himself outside the chosen destination of their meet. Ranveer muttered his thanks and stepped out of the car, straightening his pressed black shirt.

He glanced at his reflection in the window to make sure his hair was still in place. As he traveled with the windows open on pleasant days, today seemed like a good day to enjoy the breeze. He hoped his posture didn't give away how uncertain he felt inside.

Manager guided him to the VIP booth occupied by the woman occupying his thoughts. He squinted when the manager revealed she had arrived before him about an hour ago. Ranveer expressed his gratitude to the manager before entering the booth to find Suhani, who massaged her temples with the index and middle fingers.

"Hey," greeted Ranveer, closing the door behind him, and the interruption compelled Suhani to dart her eyes towards the source. "Are you alright?"

The haze in her mind cleared away when she oriented herself to the time, place, and person. With a polite smile, she gestured to Ranveer to take his seat in the chair across from her.

"I have paracetamol in my car. Let me know if you need it," he offered, still standing to make a run for the tablets if she needed them.

"No, thank you for offering. I'm fine. I was just thinking," she said, shrugging and fighting off the color that had seeped into her cheeks at his deductions. She preferred to rub her temples to help her focus better, and he had assumed she suffered a throbbing headache.

His piercing eyes scrutinized her for a moment before he settled in the vacant seat. "I hope I am not late. The manager said you came an hour ago."

Her eyes widened before she averted her eyes from him with an awkward grin on her lips. "Oh, that!" She rubbed her palms together. "No, I... I was just early. I thought I could use a change in the workplace for a bit, so I worked from here."

The chaotic nervousness was uncharacteristic of the poised woman he had known. She was an enigma and a master of donning an indifferent charade. Something was out of the ordinary to cause her to step out of her character. "I see."

"Uh, how's it at work? The servers - are they back up and working fine?" she asked, keen to divert his attention from her.

And it worked. Twinkle of pride replaced the glimmer of concern in his eyes. "Oh, yes. It was time we increased the server capacity because we took on some big players in the recent months. We increased the capacity, and everything's going smoothly now."

"That's great!"

The proud man had a triumphant grin before it morphed into a more simmered version. "And what about death? Is the investigation over?"

Suhani's courteous smile faltered, and he saw her jaw clench for the briefest of moments before an infinitesimal smile graced her lips. "They, uh, take a while. Have to see how it goes."

It was not a topic to dwell upon, he realized. "Oh, uncle sent invites for the inauguration of the charity in Vyom uncle's name. I didn't know Vyom uncle was passionate about the upliftment of former addicts."

He had known her for years, but he'd never seen her like that. Her face was a mask of anger, her eyes burning with an intensity he couldn't believe. He wanted to reach out and touch her, to fix whatever had gone wrong, but looking at her now, he knew he wasn't even close to understanding why she felt so angry.