There’s nothing quite as sweet as the sound of a child’s laughter to fill the empty spaces of the heart.

Nandini’s POV,

The aroma of freshly baked cookies and warm pancakes filled the air as I placed the last plate on the table. I glanced at the clock and smiled—it was almost time for Ansh to arrive. My heart bubbled with excitement. After all, how often do I get the chance to dote on him without any interruptions? 

As soon as the doorbell rang, I dashed to open it. Ansh stood there, his tiny frame dwarfed by Bhai, who carried him. “Bua!” Ansh squealed, stretching his arms toward me. 

“Ansh!” I bent down, scooping him into a tight hug. His laughter was like music to my ears. 

Bhai grumbled behind me, “Oh sure, greet him first like I don’t even exist.” 

I laughed, giving him a quick side glance. “Hi, Bhai. You’re here too, huh?” 

He rolled his eyes, stepping inside with Bhabhi following, her arms laden with a bag. “We bring you one child, and suddenly you forget the adults.” 

Ignoring him, I led Ansh inside, settling him on the couch. “Wait till you see what Bua made for you!” I said, ruffling his hair. 

His eyes widened. “What, Bua? Tell Ansh!” 

“Not so fast,” I teased. “You’ll see when we sit at the table.” 

Bhai plopped onto the couch dramatically, throwing his head back. “Wow, no one cooks for me like this.” 

Bhabhi, shaking her head, smacked him lightly on the shoulder. “Don’t start, Rudra.” 

I grinned. “It’s because you’re not as adorable as Ansh. Look at that face!” I pinched Ansh’s chubby cheeks, earning a giggle from him. 

Ansh beamed. “Bua loves Ansh more!” 

Bhai gasped in mock betrayal. “I’m hurt. My own sister has turned against me.” 

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Bhabhi said, laughing as she settled next to him.

“But why didn’t anyone spoil me like this?” Bhai muttered, crossing his arms. 

I chuckled as I carried Ansh to the dining table. “Alright, everyone, come sit. The feast is ready!” 

The table was overflowing with food—pancakes, sandwiches, cookies, chips, milkshakes, and everything else I could think of that Ansh might love. His little eyes sparkled as he took it all in. 

“Wow, Bua!” he said, clapping his hands. “So much food!” 

“All for my little prince,” I said, placing a plate of pancakes in front of him. 

“Seriously?” Bhai said as he sat down, staring at the spread. “Why didn’t I ever get this royal treatment?” 

I rolled my eyes. “Because you’re not three years old and adorable.” 

“I was adorable once!” Bhai argued, pointing at himself. 

Ansh giggled, his mouth stuffed with pancakes. “Papa, you’re not cute like me!” 

“See? Even he agrees,” I teased, winking at Ansh. 

Bhabh laughed, shaking her head. “Nandini, do you realize you’re completely spoiling him? Look at this table! This much sugar and junk food in one day?” 

“Oh, let me spoil him,” I said, brushing off her concern. “It’s just one day.” 

Ansh, as if on cue, chimed in, “Bua loves me the most!” 

Bhai groaned, leaning back dramatically. “Unbelievable. I’ve been dethroned by my own son.” 

Bhabhi reached for a cookie, smiling at me. “You’ve turned him into a prince for the day. What are you going to do next, Nandini? Build him a castle?” 

“Don’t tempt me,” I said, laughing. 

After the feast, we moved to the living room. Ansh and I sprawled on the floor, surrounded by board games, Legos, and toys. He was ecstatic, his giggles echoing as we built a tiny house out of blocks. 

“Bua, look!” he said, holding up a lopsided Lego tower. 

“It’s amazing!” I said, clapping for him. 

Bhai watched us from the couch, munching on a cookie. “So, I guess I’m invisible now.” 

“Papa, go away!” Ansh said, sticking out his tongue playfully. 

“Wow. First Nandini, now my own son,” Bhai said, clutching his chest as if he were wounded. 

“Stop being such a child,” Bhabhi said, tossing a pillow at him. 

“Why not?” Bhai retorted. “Apparently, competing with Ansh is the only way to get my sister’s attention these days.” 

I looked up, unable to suppress my laughter. “Oh, please, Bhai. You’re acting like I don’t pamper you too.” 

“When?” he shot back. 

“Last time you visited me in New York. Remember that cake I baked for you?” I reminded him. 

“Once,” he said, raising a finger. “And it was two years ago.” 

Bhabhi rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible, Rudra.” 

“And you’re a tyrant,” I said, grinning at him. 

Bhabhi and I burst into laughter as Bhai huffed, pretending to sulk. Later, we all settled on the couch for a movie. Ansh kept his head on my lap, clutching a bag of popcorn almost as big as he was. Bhai complained, “How come he gets to keep his head on your lap? I used to do it!” 

I smirked. “You’re too old for that now.” 

Ansh giggled, looking up at me. “Bua, tell Papa to stop being silly.” 

I ruffled his hair. “Don’t worry, Ansh. Bua will always take your side.” 

Bhai groaned. “I give up. Clearly, I can’t win against a three-year-old.” 

“Smart choice,” Bhabhi teased. 

As the movie played, I couldn’t help but smile. It was a perfect day—a day filled with laughter, love, and the kind of joy that made everything else seem insignificant. Ansh snuggled against me, and I hugged him tightly.

I woke up earlier than usual today. Yesterday was perfect with Bhai, Bhabhi, and, Ansh, they left late at night. I had set the alarm on time and was already wide awake before it went off. It was another busy day at work, and I was determined to be at my best. I quickly got ready, dressed in a smart, modest outfit, and went to the kitchen for breakfast. As usual, I had my simple toast with some juice. I didn’t have much time to linger, so I packed my lunch, grabbed my bag, and headed out.

When I arrived, the office was just as bustling as ever. The early morning rush of employees moving through the building always sets the tone for the day. I headed straight to my desk, knowing Mr. Malhotra would arrive soon. I opened my laptop and checked my calendar, then arranged his appointments for the day.

I sent him the schedule, making sure I didn’t forget anything important. It wasn’t always easy to anticipate his needs, but I had gotten good at it. As I scrolled through some emails, I felt the weight of the day pressing down on me, but I was focused. That’s when I looked at the clock. It was almost time for him to arrive.

I stood up, walked toward the elevator, and waited for it to arrive. The familiar chime sounded as it reached my floor. The doors slid open, and there he was—Manik Malhotra, CEO of Malhotra Industries, the man who owned every room he walked into. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, his hair styled meticulously, his face set in that usual, intense expression. He looked like someone who didn’t have time for nonsense.

I greeted him politely, “Good morning, Mr. Malhotra.”

“Morning, Miss. Murthy,” he replied with a curt nod, barely looking at me. His gaze was focused ahead as he walked toward his office.

I fell into step beside him, ready to brief him on the schedule for the day. I started going over the meetings and the priorities, speaking quickly but clearly, detailing what needed to be done.

When I finished, I noticed he was already halfway to his office. He paused and turned to face me. “Arrange a meeting with the marketing department immediately. I don’t want to waste any time.” His voice was firm and to the point.

“Yes, Mr. Malhotra,” I replied, nodding. My heart raced a little at the directness of his tone. I immediately turned around and headed toward the marketing team’s area, making mental notes on what to do next.

Within the next few minutes, I had arranged the meeting, and I returned to his office to let him know. “The marketing team is waiting in the conference room, Mr. Malhotra.”

“Good. Let’s go,” he said, barely acknowledging me as he walked out of his office.

We made our way down the hallway to the conference room. I pushed open the door and stepped aside for him, feeling a little out of place as always in these meetings. As always, he didn’t waste any time. The meeting began almost immediately, and the tension in the room was palpable.

The topic for today’s discussion was the decline in the demand for our product and how to handle the public relations issues that had been creeping up. The marketing team was sitting there, looking somewhat uncomfortable. It was clear that they had been waiting too long to address the issue, and now it was coming to a head. He wasted no time in voicing his displeasure.

“What’s going on with the demand for our product?” he snapped, glaring at the team. “And why am I only hearing about this now? Do you all expect me to babysit every single department?”

I could see some of the team members squirm under his gaze. The tension in the room only seemed to grow as everyone started throwing out the usual, tired suggestions. “We can increase social media ads,” one of the team members suggested. “We should consider discounting the product,” said another.

I could already tell that these solutions weren’t going to be enough. They all sounded so… old. So tired. These weren’t the kind of answers that would fix the problem. I looked around the room, noticing that his anger was building. He looked more frustrated by the second.

At that moment, I felt a sudden urge to say something. My stomach churned with nervousness, and my mind raced. But I didn’t know if I should speak up. I could see his anger rising, and I didn’t want to be the one to make it worse.

But then, as I glanced at him, he noticed that I wasn’t saying anything, and he stopped mid-sentence. His sharp gaze met mine, and said, “Miss. Murthy, do you have something to say, or are you just sitting there for the sake of it?”

I could feel all eyes turning toward me. I cursed my fate for being in this position. Everyone was waiting for me to speak, and I wasn’t even sure what I was going to say. But I had to say something.

I hesitated for a second before I spoke, my voice coming out unsure. “Well… I have an idea,” I said quietly. “What if we rebrand the product, and give it a fresh look? A new campaign focused on emotional connection with the customers—something that appeals to them personally, not just a business one. We could use influencers who are genuine and already trusted by the audience, not just big names who’ve never used the product.”

I stopped speaking then, unsure if I should go further. I wasn’t sure how the team or Mr. Malhotra would react. I could feel my palms sweating, and my heart pounding in my chest. This wasn’t just a suggestion; it was a leap of faith.

The room fell silent. I could see the team members looking at each other, some nodding as if they were considering the idea. He, on the other hand, was watching me intently. He didn’t say anything for a long time. I could feel my chest tightening.

Finally, he spoke, his voice calm but authoritative. “That’s… interesting,” he said slowly. “We need more details. Prepare a strategy for this idea. Show us how it could work.”

I nodded quickly, feeling a wave of relief wash over me. My idea had been heard, and there was a chance it could work. “Yes, Mr. Malhotra. I’ll prepare it.”

With that, the meeting ended, and the room slowly emptied. I stood up, feeling a mix of emotions. On one hand, I was happy that my idea had been taken seriously. On the other hand, I felt a little frustrated. He hadn’t even given me a simple word of praise, not even a nod of acknowledgment. He just… moved on to the next thing.

I cursed under my breath as I walked back to my cabin. Why couldn’t he just say something nice? A little praise wouldn’t hurt. I shook my head and sat down at my desk, ready to start working on the strategy.

Nandini’s POV ends.

Hope you all like the chapter.....

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Kiara ❤️❤️