The morning sun cast peeked through the White lace curtains, and a gentle glow through the windows, bathing the room in a warm , golden light.
The dust motes danced in the sunbeams, creating a magical play of light and shadow on the walls.

The delicate tinkle of wind charm mingled with the soft rustle of leaves outside, creating a serene symphony that whispered of the day's gentle beginning.

It was one of those mornings when the world seemed to hold it's breath, waiting for something extraordinary to happen.

The room is a sanctuary of serenity and personal style. The walls are painted in a soothing shade of pale blue hue, creating a backdrop that's both calming and cheerful.
The creative paintings and crafts on the walls extend into the balcony area. A canvas of colors and shapes, they evoke a sense of wonder and imagination.

Perhaps there's a mosaic of glass butterflies, birds or a hand-painted flowers mural.
The desk, positioned against one wall, holds a sleek laptop - a tool for work or sketchbook and colored pencils for creativity, depending on the occupant's mood. And some small potted plant that adds a touch of greenery.

Beside it, a tall bookshelf reaches towards the ceiling, it's shelves filled with books of various genres with an eclectic mix of literature treasures, from classic novels to modern self-help books, adventures and knowledge.
Each spine telling a story seems to be varied interests by the owner of this room.

There is a beautiful wardrobe stands near the bookshelf , it's mirrored and elegant, reflects the room's tranquil ambiance.

Opposite the wardrobe, a dressing table awaits with a larger mirror, invites self-reflection.
It's surface adorned with delicate trinkets and a separate shelf dedicated to jewellery box sits atop it, holding cherished pieces - some silver bracelet, some pair of pearl earrings, memories woven into metal and gemstones. And another side is full of beauty product.

The spacious room opens up to a beautiful balcony, accessible through a glass door.
The balcony is a miniature garden, adorned with an array of small colourful flower plants.
Their vibarant colors- rosy pinks, sunny yellows and delicate purples - create a harmonious contrast against the light blue walls.

The curtains sway gently in the breez from the open balcony. Their light blue fabric dances, framing the large window like serene painting.
Beyond the glass, the world unfolds- a tapestry of green leaves, blue skies, and distant rooftops.

There is a queen-size bed, adorned with a delicate floral bedsheet, now even more prominent in this generous space, it's rests against one wall.

The fluffy duvet the promises warmth and comfort. The headboard, an elegant piece of carved mahogany, adds a touch of sophistication.
On the bedside table, a vintage alarm clock stands next to a glass of water, and some small photo frame adorn in there.

In the midst of the tranquil scene Sreeja is lying on the bed, the embodiment of peace, wrapped cocooned cozily in her soft duvut.

A plushy bunny clutched in her arms - a relic from her childhood, which is from her grandmother , as she savored the comfort of dreams.

(I tried to create the picture from imagination, It's just an example.)

But reality had a way of intruding upon idyllic moments. Her alarm has been ringing for some time, but she has no sign to wake up.

(Author : Aree meri ma uth ja, aur kitna soyegi dekh abhi to suraj mamu bhi sar pe hain. Abhi nehi uthegi to teri ma aa jayengi fir mujhe pata nehi.)(Oh my mother, get up, see how long you will sleep, now the sun uncle is on your head. If you don't wake up now, your mom will come and then I don't know.)

Then after sometime, there's her mother, practical and no-nonsense, stood by the door.

(Author : lo aab to mata ji ka naam liya aur wo hazir ho geyi , bhagoooo......)( I take mother's name and she is present here, runnnn.......)

Her voice, soft yet firm, cut through the dreamy haze. "Shree beta uth jao dekho kitna waqt ho gaya hai" (Shree child come on get up, look at the time) she urged.

Shreeja murmured a response, "umm ma sone do na"(mom let me sleep) and lay down on the other side, her mother again gently pushed and called her again "kya sone do na, aaj somber hain beta, tumhara office hai aaj" (what sleep? Today is Monday dear, you have office) Shreeja groaned, pulling the duvet over head.

" Just give me one more hour, Mom," she pleaded.

Her mother's patience was gone now. With a swift slap on Shreeja's backside, "One hour?" she shout, "its already 7:30 Shree; you're a secretary - you can't afford to be late.
Get up, or I'll kick your ass, and drag you out of bed myself".

After hearing about the time, Shreeja reluctantly untangled herself from the cozy cocoon and hurriedly get up from bed "huhh 7:30 mom why didn't you call me earlier", she got off the bed and quickly ran to the washroom.

Her mother looks surprised and says "then is it my late mother-in-law calling you or your book boyfriend calling you for so long? huh" Her mother add in a mocking tone "Oh my princess, get up from your beauty sleep or I'll kiss you."

Shreeja laughs at her mother's playful tone. "mom, you go down, I'm coming after getting ready".

I splashed water on my face, brushed my teeth, and tied the unruly hair into a messy bun. The morning routine was a comforting ritual- a way to ease into the day.

After that I dressed in a Peach colour soft cotton blend blazer, matching pants and a simple inner top, I stood before the mirror and dry my hair and let it down, allowing the brown long waves to cascade over on my shoulders to waist.

A quick twist here , a hairpin there and I had a simple yet elegant hairstyle "Yes Good".

Then I fastened a delicate simple yet beautiful necklace around my neck, it's a little leaf pendant, a simple earring, my fingers traced two simple rings and a silver bracelet on my wrist - a gift from my bestfriend.

Then I applied a little perfume with milk chocolate smelled, wore eyeliner and light pink lipstick "And It's Perfect Now".

(Author : Yea yeaa you look to beautiful I just can't resist your beautiness now go or someone will be impatient, Ooppss......)

(Shreeja : Huhh, someone? Who?)

(no response......)

(Shreeja's Look)

"By the way, I don't think I need to give you all my introduction, because our little Author is already talking about me."

(Author : Hey what you mean by 'little author' huh; I'm a adult now so don't call me little)

"Oh dear, But I was right, I didn't talk about your age, I talked about your height".

(Author is sitting in a corner of the room crying....)

I shrug off my shoulder and took my office bag , grab the notepad and checked the phone if there any messages from colleagues, reminders for meetings.
Car keys jingled in my hand, and I quickly tucked some important documents into my bag.

As I descended the stairs, the aroma of breakfast greeted me. My father sat at the dining table, engrossed in the morning papers. His salt and pepper hair was neatly combed, and he looked up as I approached.

"Good morning beta"(Child), my father said, his eyes crinkling in a soft smile.

"Morning, papa", I replied, returning the smile. I ask "Any interesting news?" He lowered the paper, "Nothing much just some politics and scandals".

My mother bustled in from the kitchen, apron tied around her waist. "Finally, she's awake;" she teased.

"I was beginning to think you'd turned nocturnal." I rolles my eyes at her .

"Oh come on Mom, Your daughter is not an Owl or Bat..."

'Uh-huh,' my mother said, setting a plate of sandwich, boiled egg and some fruits in front of me. "Eat up. You'll need the energy."

I took a seat, the warmth of homer enveloping her "Dhanyavad matashri"(thanks mother).

My father leaned back, studying me . "You seem different today. Excited about something?"

I grinned at him, "Yeah, I have an idea for a new project at work. Something big."

My mother raised an eyebrow. "Spill it, then." I leaned in, conspiratorial.

"Uff, this lady papa ,where did you get this woman?, let's go and get another woman and......"

Before I could finish, my 'khadush(rude)' mother's hand shot out, grabbing my ear and twist it.

"Ahhh ahh, it's hurt ouch ouchhh" I protested. "ok ok now let it go, I won't say it again pleaseee" I plead her.

Laughter filled the room as my dear mother released me.
We sat together,sharing breakfast and then, armed with determination and a hint of mischief.
I stepped out into the day, And sat in my car 'Mercedes-Benz AMG GT' one of myfavorite car that I got from the company , because I'm the PA of the CEO(proud). Then I'm ready to conquer whatever challenges to lay ahead.

(Shreeja's car/ I don't know much about cars , so if there's any problem please tell me)

Shreeja stepped out of her car, and park her car in company's parking lot.
The familiar hum of activity surrounded her as she walked toward the glass doors of the building.

Colleagues and coworkers greeted her with smiles, their eyes reflecting admiration and respect.
Shreeja was more than just a colleague; she was a beacon of excellence.

The young men in the office had their own secret crushes on her.
They'd gather in hushed groups near the water cooler, discussing her latest achievements and accomplishments.

Some even dared to hang around her cabin, hoping for a glimpse of her radiant smile or a chance to strike up a conversation.
Shreeja's work ethic and dedication were contagious, and they aspired to be like her.

But not everyone was enamored. Jealousy simmered beneath the surface. A few colleagues, perhaps threatened by her success, exchanged glances when she passed by.

They whispered about her behind closed doors, wondering how she managed to outshine them consistently.
Shreeja's good work had raised the bar for everyone, and not everyone was up for the challenge. Indeed, Shreeja's beauty and grace were undeniable.

As the personal assistant to the CEO, she moved through the office like a queen, Her height poised 5'7", her perfect curvy body her every step carrying herself with an elegance that commanding attention.
She is fiercely independent and intelligent, with a sharp wit that she wields deftly. The women around her couldn't help but feel a mix of admiration and envy.

The office grapevine buzzed with speculation. Some wondered if Shreeja's closeness to the CEO was more than professional.
Others speculated about her rise within the company-was it solely due to her competence, or did she have other advantages?

Yet, despite the undercurrent of jealousy, there were those who secretly aspired to be like her.
They studied her work ethic, her poise during high-pressure meetings, and her ability to handle even the most demanding clients. Shreeja was more than just a PA, she was a role model.

Shreeja reached her corner cabin, a cozy space adorned with potted plants and motivational quotes. She settled into her chair, the soft leather creaking as she adjusted it.
The meeting agenda lay neatly stacked on her desk, and she reviewed it meticulously.

Her reputation preceded her; clients and stakeholders expected nothing less than brilliance from her presentations.
As she prepared for the meeting, Shreeja reflected on her journey-the late nights, the sacrifices, and the unwavering commitment to her craft.
She knew that her success wasn't just about talent; it was about persistence and resilience.

While Shreeja is prepare her meeting papers and stepped into the meeting room, her presence attention towards her.
The air shifted-the mundane replaced by purpose. Colleagues glanced up from their laptops, their conversations tapering off.

"Good morning, all," Shreeja's voice cut through the room. Her smile was genuine, eyes scanning the faces around her. She was more than the CEO's personal assistant; she was the heartbeat of efficiency. Everyone greeted her "Good morning Ms. Gupta".

The papers in her hand were crisp, ink still drying. She moved with grace, distributing them to each manager. "Check these," she said, her tone firm but respectful. "Sir will be here in five minutes."

On the other side in the meeting room, the air was thick with anticipation.
The managers, each with their own agenda and priorities, sat around the polished mahogany table.
Their leather chairs creaked as they leaned in, voices hushed.

The stern-faced head of Operations, cleared his throat. "Gentlemen and ladies," he began, "we have a critical quarter ahead of us. Our targets are ambitious, and we need to strategize accordingly."

The finance director, adjusted her glasses. "I've analyzed the financials," she said. "We're on track, but we need to tighten our belts. Cost-cutting measures are essential."

The marketing guru, leaned back, "Our new product launch is imminent," he declared. "We need a killer campaign. Something that'll make waves."

The research and development head, chimed in. "Speaking of products," he said, "our innovation pipeline needs a boost. Let's fast-track those prototypes."

Around the table, heads nodded. The room buzzed with ideas, disagreements, and the occasional suppressed yawn.
The managers were a diverse bunch-some seasoned veterans, others rising stars-but they shared a common goal: success for the company.

The HR manager, interjected. "Team dynamics matter," she said. "We've got a mix of personalities here. Let's foster collaboration and synergy."

The international sales lead, leaned forward. "Global expansion," he said. "Asia-Pacific is ripe for the picking. We need boots on the ground."

Amidst of the middle-aged men and women, the scene unfolded-a curious juxtaposition of mundane and youthful exuberance.

The girl, her name perhaps lost in the hum of office chatter, sat poised on the edge of her chair.
She's wearing a black sexy dress as she's doing Her nails, previously plain and unadorned, now gleamed with vibrant hues.
The nail polish brush moved with precision, each stroke a tiny act of self-expression.
She was reclaiming a moment for herself amidst the corporate monotony-a splash of color against the grayscale.

Across from her, The boy was engrossed in his digital world.
His fingers danced over the game controller, eyes fixed on the screen. Explosions, quests, and virtual victories unfolded before him.
The office noise-the ringing phones, the distant printer-faded into the background. For him, this was an escape-an oasis of pixels and challenges.

The middle-aged colleagues, caught between deadlines and spreadsheets, stole glances at this microcosm of life. They wondered about the girl's audacity-nail polish in the office? Wasn't that against the unwritten rules? And the boy-was he shirking responsibilities? Or was he merely recharging his mind for the next battle in the corporate arena?

The finance director ,with her stern-faced adjusted her glasses. "Focus, you two," she said, her voice cutting through the room. "We have targets to meet."

But the girl's nails sparkled, and the boy's digital avatar fought on. They were rebels in their own way-defying the monotony, seeking pockets of joy.

And so, in that corner of the office, life unfolded-a silent drama of polish and pixels, of rebellion and routine. The middle-aged world spun on, but the girl's nails and the boy's game held their own gravity.

As the clock ticked, the girl capped her nail polish, satisfied with her mini-revolution.
The boy paused his game, a triumphant grin on his face. And the middle-aged colleagues? Well, they returned to their spreadsheets, but perhaps-just perhaps-they carried a hint of envy for the girl's colorful rebellion and the boy's virtual conquests.

They are non other than Akansha Gaur Deshmukh and Akash Gaur Deshmukh, the twins, were a study in contrasts. Born minutes apart, they shared the same DNA but little else. Their personalities diverged like two branches of a tree, each reaching for different skies.

(Akansha & Akash's look)

Akansha, the younger by mere minutes, was the embodiment of order. Her desk was immaculate-a symphony of color-coded folders and neatly stacked pens.
She thrived on routines, her calendar meticulously planned. When colleagues asked for help, she'd offer spreadsheets and flowcharts, her analytical mind dissecting problems like a surgeon's scalpel.

Akash, on the other hand, was chaos personified. His desk resembled a battlefield-papers strewn, coffee stains mapping forgotten conversations. Deadlines were mere suggestions to him; he preferred to dance on the edge, fueled by adrenaline and last-minute inspiration. When colleagues asked for help, he'd spin tales, weaving creativity into solutions that defied convention.

And so, the room buzzed with anticipation. The twins, Akansha and Akash, exchanged glances. But didn't care about that as Shreeja huff a tired Sighh.

And when the door finally swung open, revealing non other than 'Idhayan Gaur Deshmukh, the CEO', Shreeja straightened. Her eyes met his, a silent understanding passing between them. The managers sat up straighter.

"Good morning, everyone," the CEO said, his gaze lingering on Shreeja. "Let's begin."

Idhayan settled into the head chair. His presence radiated authority-a quiet confidence that demanded attention. The room adjusted, like a symphony tuning its instruments. " Everyone, review the documents," he instructed, his voice a measured cadence. "Then we'll discuss."

Shreeja, loyal and efficient, took her place beside him. Their silent exchange spoke volumes-a shared history, unspoken camaraderie.
She glanced at Akansha and Akash, the twins who defied convention. Their eyes held secrets-perhaps dreams of rebellion or quiet revolutions.

Akansha's fingers traced data points, her mind calculating probabilities. Akash doodled, lost in a world of imagination. The middle-aged managers leaned forward, eager to impress.

But Idhayan? He was a study in patience. Cross-legged, chin resting on his hand, he observed.
His gaze lingered on the twins-the analytical and the whimsical. What did he see? Potential, perhaps. Or the delicate balance between logic and intuition.

Shreeja, ever vigilant, noticed Sir's gaze. She leaned toward the twins, ready to intervene. But Idhayan raised a hand, a silent command. "Sit," he mouthed. Shreeja hesitated, then obeyed. The room held its breath.

And so, in that charged silence, minutes slipped away. The papers remained untouched, the twins unyielding. Idhayan's patience was a force-a reservoir of wisdom.

For another ten minutes, they sat-their stories converging, diverging, and intertwining. And as the clock ticked, the meeting room held its secrets, waiting for Idhayan's next move.

The meeting room crackled with tension-a collision of egos and hidden agendas. The manager's outburst had shattered the fragile equilibrium.

"What kind of mannerless behavior is going on here?" he asked.

Akansha, her patience fraying, squared her shoulders. "Mannerless?" she retorted. "Look who's saying, Perhaps it's manners to respect individuality."

The manager's face reddened. "Games and nail polish," he scoffed. "This isn't a playground or A salon."

Akansha's eyes flashed. "And greed isn't a virtue," she shot back. But the manager was relentless. "My daughter," he boasted, "a rising star. She deserves this post."

Shreeja, observing from her seat, leaned toward Idhayan. "Sir," she whispered, "should we intervene?" Idhayan, calm as a still lake, shook his head. "Let them spar," he murmured. "Truths emerge in conflict."

And so, Akansha's next words cut like a blade. "Your daughter," she said, "entangling marriage with CEO? Perhaps she learned it from you."

(Author : Kiski badduya mili thi aaj ke din ke liye is manager ko , ki wo Humari iss ladki ke sath mu lagwane aa geya hai)(whose curse did this manager get for today, that he has came forward to argue with this girl of mine)

(Author : Pata nehi aur kya kya bol kholegi ye ladki, aap to gaye uncle)
(Don't know what else this girl will say now, you are finished uncle)

Where words clashed like swords, Idhayan sat with the air of a chess master.
His gaze shifted from the twins to Shreeja, the silent observer by his side. She appeared serious, her hand cradling her chin-a portrait of concentration. But Idhayan knew better. Idhayan allowed himself a private amusement.

The room held its breath. The manager sputtered, face mottled. "How dare you!"

"Oh dhire dhire baat kijiye uncle ,kahi daato ke saath bal bhi na gir jaye , fir daato mein jaise sona lagaya hai waise balo mein bhi lagana parega ,oh nehi aapne to wig lagaya hai waise bhi"
(Oh talk calmly uncle, lest your hair fall out along with your teeth. Then just like gold has been applied in your teeth, you'll have to applied in your hair also. Oh no you're wearing a wig anyway.) Akansha made fun of him.

Akash, the silent observer, leaned back. "Ah," he mused, "the corporate battlefield." Idhayan gestured to his one guard , as the guard went towards Akash and took his video game.

Shreeja, torn between loyalty and diplomacy, glanced at Idhayan. His gaze remained fixed on the twins.

"Responsibility," Akansha continued, "isn't about lineage. It's about character."

The manager's retort was venomous. "Character?" he spat. "Your kind lacks it."

And then, Akansha's final blow: "hmm , just say you don't like the truth" she said "I know details about how you wants to alliance with your daugther to CEO.

The room fractured. Idhayan raised a hand. "Enough," he said, voice echoing. "We're here for results." The twins exchanged a look.

Akansha continued, " I also want to say that it is better if you finish the meeting soon, I have to go to attend a party."

The manager slumped, defeated. "Fine," he muttered. "But mark my words."

And as the clock ticked, the meeting resumed. Akansha's spreadsheets, Akash's metaphors-they danced anew. The room, scarred but resilient, refocused on strategy.

Finally, Idhayan spoke. "Let's begin" Calm yet firm voice.

And the room stirred-a tapestry of ambition, personalities, and unspoken alliances. Akansha and Akash exchanged glances. Shreeja adjusted her notepad.

Then the meeting continued for next 40 minutes. In the mean time Akansha and Akash are yawning during the meeting. Then after the meeting was over everyone went to their work .

Akansha also stomped out of the office, because of the work Idhayan gave her... her heels echoing down the hallway. Idhayan watched her go, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

Then he turned to his secretary, Shreeja, who had witnessed the entire exchange. She let out a tried sigh , and discussing with him that there was an outside meeting , so they have to go and they go out in his car.

On the other side of the bustling office, a solitary meeting room awaited. Akansha, with a determined stride, opened the door and stepped inside. The room was dominated by a large, polished table, and at its head, a man engrossed in a phone conversation.

Not wanting to interrupt, she quietly took a seat, unfastening her coat that was cinched at her waist. As the coat fell open, a glint of metal caught the light-a delicate thigh chain adorned her leg.

The man, still pacing with the phone pressed to his ear, caught a glimpse of my exposed leg and allowed a smirk to play across his lips. "Umm, nice legs," he commented offhandedly.

My eyes narrowed, a clear disapproval etched on my face. "Why are you looking at my legs like that, What are you? a pervert?" I retorted sharply.

"Hmm, But why not? You left it open to show, so I see, it's really sexy" he replied with a nonchalant shrug. I narrowed my eyes "Flirting, are we". In return he just smiled at me.

Drained from the day's events and not in the mood for banter, I promptly covered myself, ensuring the coat concealed my legs once more.
The man finally ended his call and turned his full attention to me, a charming smile spreading across his face.

"Hello, Ms. Gorgeous. I'm Daksh Raizada," he introduced himself, extending a hand in greeting.

I, unimpressed by the formality, responded curtly, "Hmm, Akansha. Let's quickly discuss the matter and end this; I have to be somewhere."

We engaged in a brisk, business-like discussion. As it concluded, Daksh rose from his chair, hand outstretched for a parting handshake.
But my patience worn thin, I simply turned back and strode out of the room, leaving Daksh standing with a smile that slowly faded into the silence of the empty room.

SECOND UNKNOWN PERSON'S POV -

On Call :

Unknown Person : With his husky and deep voice "Update" he said.

Someone : 'Sir, She's here in the parking lot, now she's going inside the company'.

Unknown Person : 'Hmm, now go back to your work'.

-4195 words

Published on - 01.06.2024

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Hello lovelies So how was the First Chapter?

I don't know if you all like it or not, but I tried to entertain everyone.

I'll update on Every Saturday or Sunday ....

Muuaaahhh 😘 you all...

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