Her mind was a storm, her heart a battlefield, and her soul was caught in the crossfire.

Manik's POV,

The clock ticked away relentlessly as I sat in my cabin, reviewing the schedule for the day. My eyes flicked to the time-10:10 a.m. She was late again. My jaw tightened as irritation flared in my chest. If there was one thing I despised, it was people who couldn't respect time. Last time I warned her, I had made it explicitly clear that punctuality was non-negotiable. And yet, here we were.

I leaned back in my chair, running a hand through my hair to calm myself, though the anger bubbled dangerously close to the surface. A sharp knock on the door broke my thoughts. My tone was clipped when I barked, "Come in."

The door opened, and there she was-Nandini Murthy, walking in with her head down, looking almost like a guilty child caught red-handed. My gaze hardened as I stood, slamming the pen I'd been holding onto the desk.

"You're late. Again," I began, my voice cold and controlled. I watched her flinch slightly but remained silent.

"Do you have any idea how unprofessional this is?" I continued. "This is a workplace, not your playground where you can waltz in whenever you feel like it. I don't care if you were stuck in traffic, overslept, or were abducted by aliens-when I say 9:00 a.m., I mean 9:00 a.m.!"

Her head dipped lower, and finally, she muttered, "I'm sorry, Mr. Malhotra. It won't happen again."

I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Oh, you're sorry? How original. Do you even understand the value of time, Miss Murthy? Or is apologizing the only skill you've mastered?"

Her silence was answer enough. "Don't stand there like a statue. Get to work," I snapped, waving her off dismissively. "And bring me a coffee. Now."

I returned to my chair, trying to focus on the emails waiting for my attention, but the irritation lingered. A few minutes later, she returned, a steaming cup in her hands. She placed it carefully on my desk, her gaze avoiding mine. I reached for it, hoping a strong coffee would help me get through this miserable morning.

The first sip hit my tongue, and I immediately spat it back into the cup, disgust curling my lips. "What the hell is this?!" I exploded, slamming the cup down so hard that some of the liquid spilled onto the desk.

She jumped, visibly startled.

"Do you not know how to make a simple cup of coffee?" I demanded, standing up to tower over her. "Is this what you call professionalism? Or do you just enjoy wasting my time with this garbage?"

Her cheeks flushed, and she stammered, "I'm... I'm sorry, sir. I'll-"

"Enough!" I cut her off. "I don't want your excuses. Leave my cabin. Right now."

She nodded quickly and scurried out, leaving me fuming. I pressed the intercom and ordered someone else to bring me a proper coffee, determined not to let her incompetence ruin my morning further.

I was finally beginning to feel productive when the intercom buzzed again. It was the receptionist.

"Sir, the investors have arrived. They're waiting for you in the conference room."

Damn it. I glanced at the clock-11:15 a.m. "I'll be there in a minute," I said curtly, hanging up.

Grabbing my phone, I pressed the intercom again. "Miss Murthy, come to my cabin. Now."

A minute later, she walked in, her demeanor as meek as before. "Yes, Mr. Malhotra?"

I didn't even look up. "Why didn't you inform me about the meeting with the investors?"

There was a long pause. I finally glanced up to see her standing there, her face pale. "I... I'm sorry, Mr. Malhotra. I forgot," she admitted softly.

The apology was like pouring fuel on a fire. I stood abruptly, slamming my hands on the desk. "You forgot?" I shouted. "This is a multi-million-dollar meeting, Miss Murthy! You don't get to forget things like this! How irresponsible can you be?"

Her voice was barely a whisper as she said, "I promise it won't happen again."

I ignored her and stepped closer. "Where's the file for the meeting?" I demanded.

Her eyes widened in panic, and she began to stammer. "I... I haven't... it's not..."

I didn't need to hear more. My patience snapped. "Are you kidding me?!" I roared. "This is the height of carelessness, Miss Murthy! Do you even take this job seriously, or are you just here to collect a paycheck?"

Her lips parted as if she wanted to defend herself, but no words came out.

"Don't bother apologizing," I spat. "You've wasted enough of my time. I don't even want to see your face until you've completed that file. Do you understand?"

She nodded silently, tears glistening in her eyes, but I didn't care. I picked up the phone and dialed the receptionist.

"Cancel the meeting with the investors," I said coldly. "Postpone it until further notice."

Once I hung up, I turned back to her. "Now get out of my cabin," I ordered.

She hesitated for a fraction of a second before turning and leaving. The sight of her retreating figure did nothing to quell my anger. I told myself this: one more mistake from her, and she was out. I didn't have time to babysit someone who couldn't handle the basics of her job. This wasn't a charity-it was a business. And if Nandini Murthy wanted to survive here, she had better start acting like it.

Manik's POV ends.

Nandini's POV,

I woke up to the blaring sound of my alarm, but my body refused to move. My eyes felt heavy, probably swollen from crying all night, and the faint ache in my temples reminded me of the mess I had created in my room before falling asleep on the cold floor. The clock showed 8:30 a.m., and for a moment, I just stared at it, my mind sluggishly processing what that meant.

Panic surged as realization hit. I was already late.

Jumping to my feet, I tripped over a pile of papers scattered on the floor. "God, why?!" I muttered, frustration bubbling up. My room looked like a tornado had hit it, but I didn't have time to fix anything. I grabbed the first semi-decent outfit I could find, not even bothering to check if it matched, and rushed to get ready.

By the time I left the house, it was already 9:40 a.m., and the Mumbai traffic wasn't going to do me any favors. My thoughts spiraled as I sat in the cab, stuck in a jam.

Why did he have to drop this bombshell last night? Marriage. The word itself made my skin crawl. I couldn't stop hearing my dad's voice, his authoritative tone echoing in my head. "This is for your own good." Good for whom? Certainly not for me.

I clenched my fists, trying to push the anger down, but it wasn't working. The storm inside me was relentless, pulling me in a hundred directions at once. My father's words, my mother's silence, my outburst-everything replayed in my mind like a cruel loop. And now, here I was, late for work, unprepared, and completely disoriented.

When I finally reached the office, it was 10:30 a.m. I practically ran to my desk, throwing my bag down. The knot in my stomach tightened as I thought of facing him-Manik Malhotra.

I knocked on his cabin door hesitantly, my heart hammering in my chest.

"Come in," came the sharp response.

I stepped inside, keeping my head low, already bracing for the scolding I knew was coming.

"You're late. Again," his voice was cold and cutting.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Malhotra," I murmured, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks.

He didn't stop. "Do you have any idea how unprofessional this is?" he continued. "This is a workplace, not your playground where you can waltz in whenever you feel like it. I don't care if you were stuck in traffic, overslept, or were abducted by aliens-when I say 9:00 a.m., I mean 9:00 a.m.!"

His words stung, each one sharper than the last. I wanted to explain, to tell him about the chaos in my mind, but I knew he wouldn't care. He didn't want excuses; he wanted results. So, I stood there and took it.

"I'm sorry Mr. Malhotra. It won't happen again," I managed to say, barely above a whisper.

He let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Oh, you're sorry? How original. Do you even understand the value of time, Miss Murthy? Or is apologizing the only skill you've mastered?"

I stand there looking down. "Don't stand there like a statue. Get to work," he snapped, waving me off dismissively. "And bring me a coffee. Now."

I hurried out, my hands trembling as I reached the pantry. Coffee. That was simple enough, right? Except my hands wouldn't stop shaking. I poured the coffee, but my mind was elsewhere-back in my father's study, hearing his threats, his ultimatums.

"If you don't agree to meet them, I'll make sure you can't work in that company you're so fond of."

The sound of liquid overflowing brought me back to reality. I cursed under my breath, quickly cleaning up the mess before rushing back to his cabin.

When I placed the cup on his desk, he barely glanced at me before taking a sip. The next moment, he spat it out, his expression one of utter disgust.

"What the hell is this?!" he shouted, making me flinch.

"Do you not know how to make a simple cup of coffee?" he said, standing up to tower over me. "Is this what you call professionalism? Or do you just enjoy wasting my time with this garbage?"

"I'm... I'm sorry, sir. I'll make it again-" I tried to speak.

"Enough!" he cut me off. "I don't want your excuses. Leave my cabin. Right now."

My cheeks burned as I hurried out, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. Why couldn't I do anything right?

I tried to focus on work, but the chaos inside my head wouldn't let me. My father's voice, Manik's scolding, my own frustration-it was all too much. My hands hovered over the keyboard, but the words on the screen blurred together.

The intercom buzzed, snapping me out of my haze. "Miss Murthy, come to my cabin. Now."

I stood, my legs feeling weak as I made my way to his office.

As soon as I stepped inside, he didn't waste a second. "Why didn't you inform me about the meeting with the investors?"

My breath hitched. I had completely forgotten. "I... I'm sorry, sir. I forgot."

His face darkened, and he stood abruptly, slamming his hands on the desk. "You forgot?! This is a multi-million-dollar meeting, and you forgot? Do you even take this job seriously?"

"I promise it won't happen again," I said, my voice barely audible.

"Where's the file for the meeting?"

My heart sank. The file. My hands began to tremble again as I stammered, "I... I haven't... it's not..."

His expression turned livid, his voice rising with every word. "This is the height of carelessness, Miss Murthy! Do you even know what responsibility means? Or is apologizing the only thing you're good at?"

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

"Don't bother. You've wasted enough of my time. Get out of my cabin and don't come back until you've finished the file."

His words were a knife to my chest. I nodded silently and left, my vision blurred with unshed tears.

I returned to my desk, staring at the scattered papers and the blinking cursor on my screen. My hands moved mechanically, but my mind was elsewhere, trapped in the storm of anger, hurt, and frustration.

This wasn't just about the job. It was everything-the weight of my father's expectations, the suffocating feeling of being controlled, and now, my own failures.

I wanted to scream, to cry, to escape. But all I could do was sit there, drowning in the chaos I couldn't seem to escape.

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Kiara ❤️❤️