28-03-2026, 11:02 AM
2007
“We should head to a bar and celebrate.”
I wasn’t surprised by my roommate’s emphatic pronouncement.
Ashwin found excuses to celebrate, no matter how small and inconsequential. I’d always considered it part of his charm. “I’m sure drinking the night before starting a new job is a bad idea.”
“Come on, Rekha.” Ashwin sat on our new living room floor amid a half-dozen moving boxes and flashed his winning smile. We’d been unpacking for days, yet he still looked amazing. Leanly built, dark-haired, and green-eyed, Ashwin was a man who rarely looked anything less than absolutely gorgeous on any day of his life. I might have resented that if he hadn’t been the dearest person on earth to me.
he insisted. “Just a glass of wine or two. We can hit happy hour at one of those places in Jubilee Hills and be back by eight.”
“I don’t know if I’ll make it back in time.” I gestured at my yoga pants and fitted workout tank. “After I time the walk to work, I’m going to hit the gym.”
“Walk fast, work out faster.” Ashwin’s perfectly executed arched brow made me laugh. I fully expected his million-dollar face to appear on billboards and fashion magazines one day. No matter his expression, he was a knockout.
“How about tomorrow after work?” I offered as a substitute. “If I make it through the day, that’ll be worth celebrating.”
“Deal. I’m breaking in the new kitchen for dinner.”
“Uh…” Cooking was one of Ashwin’s joys, but it wasn’t one of his talents. “Great.”
Blowing a wayward strand of hair off his face, he grinned at me. “We’ve got a kitchen most restaurants would kill for. There’s no way to screw up a meal in there.”
Dubious, I headed out with a wave, choosing to avoid a conversation about cooking. Taking the elevator down to the ground floor, I smiled at the security guard when he let me out to the street with a polite nod.
The moment I stepped outside, the sights, sounds, and smells of Hyderabad embraced me. I was not merely across the country from my former home in vijaywada, but seemingly worlds away. Two major Indian cities—one relentlessly humid and coastal, the other hot, dry, and pulsing with a unique energy that blended the old and the new. In my dreams, I’d imagined living somewhere near the old city with its bustling bazaars, but being a dutiful daughter, I found myself in a sleek apartment in Banjara Hills instead. If not for Ashwin living with me, I would’ve been miserably lonely in the sprawling flat that cost more per month than most people made in a year.
The guard gave me a small smile. “Good evening, Miss Rekha. Will you need the car this evening?”
“No thanks, Raju.” I rocked onto the rounded heels of my fitness shoes. “I’ll be walking.”
He nodded. “It has cooled down a bit from this afternoon. Should be pleasant for a walk.”
“I’ve been told I should enjoy the June weather before the real monsoon heat and showers hit.”
“Very good advice, Miss Rekha.”
Stepping out from under the modern entrance canopy that somehow blended with the surrounding luxury villas and apartments, I enjoyed the relative quiet of my tree-lined lane before I reached the bustle of Road No. 10. One day soon, I hoped to blend right in, but for now I still felt like a newcomer. I had the address and the job, but I was still wary of the chaotic traffic and had trouble navigating the auto-rickshaws and bike-filled roads. I tried not to walk around wide-eyed and distracted, but it was hard. There was just so much to see and experience.
The sensory input was astonishing—the smell of vehicle exhaust mixed with the aroma of sizzling mirchi bajji and chai from roadside carts, the shouts of vendors blended with honking scooters and the distant call to prayer, the incredible range of faces, styles, and languages, the mix of modern glass buildings and hints of traditional architecture… And the traffic. My god. The frenetic flow of tightly packed cars, bikes, autos, and overloaded lorries was unlike anything I’d ever seen.
There was always an ambulance or security officer vehicle trying to weave through the flood with blaring sirens. I was in awe of the lumbering garbage trucks that navigated narrow lanes and the Swiggy/Zomato delivery boys who braved the bumper-to-bumper chaos while racing against time.
Real Hyderabadis cruised right through it all, their love for the city as comfortable and familiar as a favourite pair of chappals. They didn’t view the dust swirling in the evening light with romantic delight, and they didn’t blink when the ground vibrated from heavy traffic, while I grinned like an idiot. Hyderabad was a brand new love affair for me. I was starry-eyed and it showed.
So I had to really work at playing it cool as I made my way over to the building where I would be working. As far as my job went, at least, I’d gotten my way. I wanted to make a living based on my own merits, and that meant an entry-level position. Starting the next morning, I would be the assistant to 'Madhan mohan ' at Janrise Creative, one of the sharpest advertising agencies in Hyderabad. My father, mega-financier Rajendra, had been annoyed when I took the job, pointing out that if I’d been less prideful I could’ve worked for a friend of his instead and reaped the benefits of that connection.
“You’re as stubborn as your mother,” he’d said.
Knowing it was pointless to get riled up over old frustrations, I focused on getting to work as quickly as possible. I’d deliberately chosen to clock the short trip during peak evening rush on a Monday, so I was pleased when I reached the sleek Cyber Towers complex (which housed Janrise Creative) in less than sixty minutes.
I tipped my head back and followed the line of the building all the way up toward the sky. The tower was seriously impressive—a modern glass-and-steel structure rising amid the IT corridor. I knew from my previous interviews that the interior on the other side of the grand entrance was just as striking, with polished marble floors and contemporary security setups.
I pulled my new ID card out of the inner pocket of my pants and held it up for the two guards in crisp uniforms at the desk. They stopped me anyway, no doubt because I was majorly underdressed, but then they cleared me through. After I completed an elevator ride up to the twentieth floor, I’d have a general time frame for the whole route from door to door. Score.
I was walking toward the bank of elevators when a, beautifully groomed woman caught her purse, spilling a deluge of change. Coins rained onto the marble and rolled merrily away, and I watched people dodge the chaos and keep going as if they didn’t see it. I winced in sympathy and crouched to help the woman collect her money, as did one of the guards.
“Thank you,” she said, shooting me a quick smile.
I smiled back. “No problem. I’ve been there.”
I’d just squatted to reach a coin lying near the entrance when I ran into a pair of luxurious black oxfords dbangd in tailored black slacks. I waited a beat for the man to move out of my way and when he didn’t, I arched my neck back to allow my line of sight to rise. The custom three-piece suit hit more than a few of my hot buttons, but it was the tall, powerfully lean body inside it that made it sensational. Still, as hot as all that magnificent maleness was, it wasn’t until I reached the man’s face that I went down for the count.
Wow. Just… wow.
He sank into an elegant crouch directly in front of me. Hit with all that exquisite masculinity at eye-level, I could only stare. Stunned.
Then something shifted in the air between us.
As he stared back, he altered… as if a shield slid away from his eyes, revealing a scorching force of will that sucked the air from my lungs. The intense magnetism he exuded grew in strength, becoming a near tangible impression of vibrant and unrelenting power.
Reacting purely on instinct, I shifted backward. And sprawled flat on my ass.
My elbows throbbed from the violent contact with the marble floor, but I scarcely registered the pain. I was too preoccupied with staring, riveted by the man in front of me. Inky black hair framed a breathtaking face. His bone structure would make a sculptor weep with joy, while a firmly etched mouth, a blade of a nose, and intensely blue eyes made him savagely gorgeous. Those eyes narrowed slightly, his features otherwise collegeed into impassivity.
His dress shirt and suit were both black, but his tie perfectly matched those brilliant irises. His eyes were shrewd and assessing, and they bored into me. My heartbeat quickened; my lips parted to accommodate faster breaths. He smelled sinfully good. Not cologne. Body wash, maybe. Or shampoo. Whatever it was, it was mouthwatering, as was he.
He held out a hand to me, exposing golden cuff links and a very expensive-looking watch.
With a shaky inhalation, I placed my hand in his. My pulse leaped when his grip tightened. His touch was electric, sending a shock up my arm that raised the hairs on my nape. He didn’t move for a moment.
“Are you all right?”
His voice was cultured and smooth, with a rasp that made my stomach flutter. It brought sex to mind. Extraordinary sex. I thought for a moment that he might be able to make me orgasm just by talking long enough.
My lips were dry, so I licked them before answering. “I’m fine.”
He stood with economical grace, pulling me up with him. We maintained eye contact because I was unable to look away. He was younger than I’d assumed at first. Younger than thirty would be my guess, but his eyes were much worldlier. Hard and sharply intelligent.
I felt drawn to him, as if a rope bound my waist and he was slowly, inexorably pulling it.
Blinking out of my semi-daze, I released him. He wasn’t just beautiful; he was… enthralling. He was the kind of guy that made a woman want to rip his shirt open and watch the buttons scatter along with her inhibitions. I looked at him in his civilized, urbane, outrageously expensive suit and thought of raw, primal, sheet-clawing fucking.
He bent down and retrieved the ID card I hadn’t realized I’d dropped, freeing me from that provocative gaze. My brain stuttered back into gear.
I was irritated with myself for feeling so awkward while he was so completely self-possessed. And why? Because I was dazzled, damn it.
My face heated. How lovely to appear awkward and clumsy in front of the most self-assured and graceful man I’d ever met. “I just lost my balance. I’m okay.”
Looking away, I caught sight of the woman who’d dumped the contents of her purse. She thanked the guard who’d helped her; then turned to approach me, apologizing profusely. I faced her and held out the handful of coins I’d collected, but her gaze snagged on the god in the suit and she promptly forgot me altogether. After a beat, I just reached over and dumped the change into the woman’s bag. Then I risked a glance at the man again, finding him watching me even as the woman gushed thank-yous. To him. Not to me, of course, the one who’d actually helped.
I talked over her. “May I have my id card , please?”
He offered it back to me. Although I made an effort to retrieve it without touching him, his fingers brushed mine, sending that charge of awareness into me all over again.
“Thank you,” I muttered before skirting him and pushing out to the street through the revolving door. I paused on the sidewalk, gulping in a breath of Hyderabad air thick with a million different things—some fragrant, some smoky, some exhaust-laden.
There was a sleek black Mercedes SUV waiting in front of the building and I saw my reflection in the spotless tinted windows. I was flushed and my brown eyes were overly bright. I’d seen that look on my face before. It was my I’m-ready-to-fuck look and it had absolutely no business being on my face now.
“We should head to a bar and celebrate.”
I wasn’t surprised by my roommate’s emphatic pronouncement.
Ashwin found excuses to celebrate, no matter how small and inconsequential. I’d always considered it part of his charm. “I’m sure drinking the night before starting a new job is a bad idea.”
“Come on, Rekha.” Ashwin sat on our new living room floor amid a half-dozen moving boxes and flashed his winning smile. We’d been unpacking for days, yet he still looked amazing. Leanly built, dark-haired, and green-eyed, Ashwin was a man who rarely looked anything less than absolutely gorgeous on any day of his life. I might have resented that if he hadn’t been the dearest person on earth to me.
he insisted. “Just a glass of wine or two. We can hit happy hour at one of those places in Jubilee Hills and be back by eight.”
“I don’t know if I’ll make it back in time.” I gestured at my yoga pants and fitted workout tank. “After I time the walk to work, I’m going to hit the gym.”
“Walk fast, work out faster.” Ashwin’s perfectly executed arched brow made me laugh. I fully expected his million-dollar face to appear on billboards and fashion magazines one day. No matter his expression, he was a knockout.
“How about tomorrow after work?” I offered as a substitute. “If I make it through the day, that’ll be worth celebrating.”
“Deal. I’m breaking in the new kitchen for dinner.”
“Uh…” Cooking was one of Ashwin’s joys, but it wasn’t one of his talents. “Great.”
Blowing a wayward strand of hair off his face, he grinned at me. “We’ve got a kitchen most restaurants would kill for. There’s no way to screw up a meal in there.”
Dubious, I headed out with a wave, choosing to avoid a conversation about cooking. Taking the elevator down to the ground floor, I smiled at the security guard when he let me out to the street with a polite nod.
The moment I stepped outside, the sights, sounds, and smells of Hyderabad embraced me. I was not merely across the country from my former home in vijaywada, but seemingly worlds away. Two major Indian cities—one relentlessly humid and coastal, the other hot, dry, and pulsing with a unique energy that blended the old and the new. In my dreams, I’d imagined living somewhere near the old city with its bustling bazaars, but being a dutiful daughter, I found myself in a sleek apartment in Banjara Hills instead. If not for Ashwin living with me, I would’ve been miserably lonely in the sprawling flat that cost more per month than most people made in a year.
The guard gave me a small smile. “Good evening, Miss Rekha. Will you need the car this evening?”
“No thanks, Raju.” I rocked onto the rounded heels of my fitness shoes. “I’ll be walking.”
He nodded. “It has cooled down a bit from this afternoon. Should be pleasant for a walk.”
“I’ve been told I should enjoy the June weather before the real monsoon heat and showers hit.”
“Very good advice, Miss Rekha.”
Stepping out from under the modern entrance canopy that somehow blended with the surrounding luxury villas and apartments, I enjoyed the relative quiet of my tree-lined lane before I reached the bustle of Road No. 10. One day soon, I hoped to blend right in, but for now I still felt like a newcomer. I had the address and the job, but I was still wary of the chaotic traffic and had trouble navigating the auto-rickshaws and bike-filled roads. I tried not to walk around wide-eyed and distracted, but it was hard. There was just so much to see and experience.
The sensory input was astonishing—the smell of vehicle exhaust mixed with the aroma of sizzling mirchi bajji and chai from roadside carts, the shouts of vendors blended with honking scooters and the distant call to prayer, the incredible range of faces, styles, and languages, the mix of modern glass buildings and hints of traditional architecture… And the traffic. My god. The frenetic flow of tightly packed cars, bikes, autos, and overloaded lorries was unlike anything I’d ever seen.
There was always an ambulance or security officer vehicle trying to weave through the flood with blaring sirens. I was in awe of the lumbering garbage trucks that navigated narrow lanes and the Swiggy/Zomato delivery boys who braved the bumper-to-bumper chaos while racing against time.
Real Hyderabadis cruised right through it all, their love for the city as comfortable and familiar as a favourite pair of chappals. They didn’t view the dust swirling in the evening light with romantic delight, and they didn’t blink when the ground vibrated from heavy traffic, while I grinned like an idiot. Hyderabad was a brand new love affair for me. I was starry-eyed and it showed.
So I had to really work at playing it cool as I made my way over to the building where I would be working. As far as my job went, at least, I’d gotten my way. I wanted to make a living based on my own merits, and that meant an entry-level position. Starting the next morning, I would be the assistant to 'Madhan mohan ' at Janrise Creative, one of the sharpest advertising agencies in Hyderabad. My father, mega-financier Rajendra, had been annoyed when I took the job, pointing out that if I’d been less prideful I could’ve worked for a friend of his instead and reaped the benefits of that connection.
“You’re as stubborn as your mother,” he’d said.
Knowing it was pointless to get riled up over old frustrations, I focused on getting to work as quickly as possible. I’d deliberately chosen to clock the short trip during peak evening rush on a Monday, so I was pleased when I reached the sleek Cyber Towers complex (which housed Janrise Creative) in less than sixty minutes.
I tipped my head back and followed the line of the building all the way up toward the sky. The tower was seriously impressive—a modern glass-and-steel structure rising amid the IT corridor. I knew from my previous interviews that the interior on the other side of the grand entrance was just as striking, with polished marble floors and contemporary security setups.
I pulled my new ID card out of the inner pocket of my pants and held it up for the two guards in crisp uniforms at the desk. They stopped me anyway, no doubt because I was majorly underdressed, but then they cleared me through. After I completed an elevator ride up to the twentieth floor, I’d have a general time frame for the whole route from door to door. Score.
I was walking toward the bank of elevators when a, beautifully groomed woman caught her purse, spilling a deluge of change. Coins rained onto the marble and rolled merrily away, and I watched people dodge the chaos and keep going as if they didn’t see it. I winced in sympathy and crouched to help the woman collect her money, as did one of the guards.
“Thank you,” she said, shooting me a quick smile.
I smiled back. “No problem. I’ve been there.”
I’d just squatted to reach a coin lying near the entrance when I ran into a pair of luxurious black oxfords dbangd in tailored black slacks. I waited a beat for the man to move out of my way and when he didn’t, I arched my neck back to allow my line of sight to rise. The custom three-piece suit hit more than a few of my hot buttons, but it was the tall, powerfully lean body inside it that made it sensational. Still, as hot as all that magnificent maleness was, it wasn’t until I reached the man’s face that I went down for the count.
Wow. Just… wow.
He sank into an elegant crouch directly in front of me. Hit with all that exquisite masculinity at eye-level, I could only stare. Stunned.
Then something shifted in the air between us.
As he stared back, he altered… as if a shield slid away from his eyes, revealing a scorching force of will that sucked the air from my lungs. The intense magnetism he exuded grew in strength, becoming a near tangible impression of vibrant and unrelenting power.
Reacting purely on instinct, I shifted backward. And sprawled flat on my ass.
My elbows throbbed from the violent contact with the marble floor, but I scarcely registered the pain. I was too preoccupied with staring, riveted by the man in front of me. Inky black hair framed a breathtaking face. His bone structure would make a sculptor weep with joy, while a firmly etched mouth, a blade of a nose, and intensely blue eyes made him savagely gorgeous. Those eyes narrowed slightly, his features otherwise collegeed into impassivity.
His dress shirt and suit were both black, but his tie perfectly matched those brilliant irises. His eyes were shrewd and assessing, and they bored into me. My heartbeat quickened; my lips parted to accommodate faster breaths. He smelled sinfully good. Not cologne. Body wash, maybe. Or shampoo. Whatever it was, it was mouthwatering, as was he.
He held out a hand to me, exposing golden cuff links and a very expensive-looking watch.
With a shaky inhalation, I placed my hand in his. My pulse leaped when his grip tightened. His touch was electric, sending a shock up my arm that raised the hairs on my nape. He didn’t move for a moment.
“Are you all right?”
His voice was cultured and smooth, with a rasp that made my stomach flutter. It brought sex to mind. Extraordinary sex. I thought for a moment that he might be able to make me orgasm just by talking long enough.
My lips were dry, so I licked them before answering. “I’m fine.”
He stood with economical grace, pulling me up with him. We maintained eye contact because I was unable to look away. He was younger than I’d assumed at first. Younger than thirty would be my guess, but his eyes were much worldlier. Hard and sharply intelligent.
I felt drawn to him, as if a rope bound my waist and he was slowly, inexorably pulling it.
Blinking out of my semi-daze, I released him. He wasn’t just beautiful; he was… enthralling. He was the kind of guy that made a woman want to rip his shirt open and watch the buttons scatter along with her inhibitions. I looked at him in his civilized, urbane, outrageously expensive suit and thought of raw, primal, sheet-clawing fucking.
He bent down and retrieved the ID card I hadn’t realized I’d dropped, freeing me from that provocative gaze. My brain stuttered back into gear.
I was irritated with myself for feeling so awkward while he was so completely self-possessed. And why? Because I was dazzled, damn it.
My face heated. How lovely to appear awkward and clumsy in front of the most self-assured and graceful man I’d ever met. “I just lost my balance. I’m okay.”
Looking away, I caught sight of the woman who’d dumped the contents of her purse. She thanked the guard who’d helped her; then turned to approach me, apologizing profusely. I faced her and held out the handful of coins I’d collected, but her gaze snagged on the god in the suit and she promptly forgot me altogether. After a beat, I just reached over and dumped the change into the woman’s bag. Then I risked a glance at the man again, finding him watching me even as the woman gushed thank-yous. To him. Not to me, of course, the one who’d actually helped.
I talked over her. “May I have my id card , please?”
He offered it back to me. Although I made an effort to retrieve it without touching him, his fingers brushed mine, sending that charge of awareness into me all over again.
“Thank you,” I muttered before skirting him and pushing out to the street through the revolving door. I paused on the sidewalk, gulping in a breath of Hyderabad air thick with a million different things—some fragrant, some smoky, some exhaust-laden.
There was a sleek black Mercedes SUV waiting in front of the building and I saw my reflection in the spotless tinted windows. I was flushed and my brown eyes were overly bright. I’d seen that look on my face before. It was my I’m-ready-to-fuck look and it had absolutely no business being on my face now.
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