Sometimes, the most insignificant encounters are the ones that alter the course of our lives.
A stranger's glance.
A few words.
A five-minute ride.
And sometimes…
the person you know the least is the person who is about to become the most important part of your story. 💫
But before we get there…
let me introduce you to the chaos that is Advika Rawat. 😙💗
Because trust me, you are going to need patience with this girl. 👽
She's stubborn.
She's impulsive.
She's disastrously late.
And apparently, she has the extraordinary ability to lose a sock five minutes before the most important interview of her life.
And the man she is about to meet?
Well…
You don't want spoilers. 👀
Let's just say—
Some men walk into your life.
Others arrive carrying secrets. 💋
And his secrets?
They are not the kind you uncover without consequences. 👺
So, if you're ready…
Let's begin. 💗
8:07 A.M.
The Rawat household had never been particularly acquainted with the concept of a quiet morning.
There was always something happening.
A pressure cooker hissing somewhere in the kitchen. The television murmuring from the living room. Arohi Rawat's bangles chiming against the steel utensils as she moved around the kitchen with the efficiency of someone who had been managing a household for years.
And then there was Advika.
“MAAAAA!”
Arohi stopped stirring the poha.
She closed her eyes.
For precisely two seconds, she allowed herself to contemplate pretending she hadn't heard.
Unfortunately, motherhood had deprived her of that luxury.
“What happened now, Advika?”
“I can't find my other sock!”
Arohi stared blankly at the kitchen wall.
A sock.
Of course.
“Look properly!”
“I *am* looking properly!”
“Then look again!”
“I already did!”
“Advika, it is a sock, not a missing person!”
There was a moment of silence.
Then—
“Maa!”
Arohi sighed.
“I'm coming.”
Upstairs, Advika Rawat stood in the middle of her bedroom looking as though she had personally declared war on every object inside it.
Her bed was unmade.
A pair of jeans hung precariously from the back of her chair.
Several books had been abandoned on the floor, their pages slightly bent from being stepped on.
Her handbag was lying open.
Documents were scattered across the desk.
And in the middle of that disaster stood Advika herself, dressed for her interview, her hair only partially cooperating with the hairstyle she had attempted ten minutes earlier.
One sock was on her foot.
The other had apparently ceased to exist.
She dropped onto her knees and looked underneath the bed.
Nothing.
She checked beneath the chair.
Nothing.
Inside the cupboard.
Nothing.
She even looked inside her handbag.
She stared at it for a moment.
“Why would I put a sock in my bag?”
She shook her head.
“I'm losing it.”
The bedroom door opened.
Arohi stepped inside.
And stopped.
Her gaze travelled slowly around the room.
The clothes.
The books.
The papers.
The bed.
Then, finally, her daughter.
Arohi's expression became one of quiet disbelief.
“What type of child has God given me?”
Advika looked up.
“A very lovable one?”
“Don't try to charm your way out of this.”
“Maa, I genuinely can't find it.”
Arohi walked inside.
“You don't lose things, Advika.”
“I didn't lose it.”
“Then where is it?”
“It disappeared.”
“Ah.”
Arohi nodded thoughtfully.
“So now your socks disappear?”
“Yes.”
“Should I call the police?”
Advika frowned.
“Maa.”
Arohi suppressed a smile.
“Move.”
She walked toward the bed and looked around.
For several seconds, there was nothing.
Then her eyes dropped toward the floor.
Arohi bent down.
She picked something up.
“Looking for this?”
Advika stared.
Her missing sock was dangling between her mother's fingers.
There was a long, humiliating silence.
“It was right there.”
Advika slowly looked toward the floor.
The sock had been sitting barely a foot away from her.
She had searched there twice.
“Maybe…”
She cleared her throat.
“…the sock moved.”
Arohi gave her a look.
“Of course.”
Advika snatched it from her hand and quickly put it on.
“Thank you.”
“You're welcome.”
Arohi turned to leave.
Then stopped.
“Your interview.”
Advika's expression changed immediately.
“Oh.”
She glanced at the clock.
Her eyes widened.
“**OH GOD.**”
She rushed toward her desk.
“Where's my folder?”
Arohi's eyebrows rose.
“Advika.”
“I had it yesterday!”
“Check properly.”
“I am checking!”
The next thirty seconds were nothing short of frantic.
Advika opened drawers, shifted books, checked her handbag and finally found the folder beneath a stack of papers.
She pulled it out.
Her hands trembled slightly as she opened it.
Resume.
Certificates.
Identification documents.
Everything was there.
She exhaled.
“Okay.”
Arohi watched her quietly.
“You're nervous.”
“No.”
“You are.”
“I'm not.”
“Your hands are shaking.”
Advika looked down.
They were.
She immediately clasped them behind her back.
“Okay. Maybe a little.”
Arohi's expression softened.
She walked over and adjusted the collar of Advika's outfit.
“It's normal to be nervous.”
Advika looked at herself in the mirror.
For weeks, she had imagined this moment.
The interview.
The company.
The opportunity.
She had prepared answers until they had begun sounding mechanical inside her head.
She had researched the company.
She had rewritten her resume more times than she cared to admit.
She wanted this.
Perhaps more than she wanted to acknowledge.
“I just don't want to ruin it,” she admitted quietly.
“You won't.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you're my daughter.”
Advika smiled.
“That doesn't prove anything.”
“It proves enough for me.”
Arohi kissed her forehead.
“Now go before your interview ends before you reach there.”
Advika grabbed her bag.
“Bye!”
“Eat something!”
“I'll eat later!”
“Advika!”
“Promise!”
She hurried down the stairs.
Arohi followed her to the doorway.
“Call me when you reach.”
“I will!”
“And don't overthink.”
Advika paused.
“That's impossible.”
Arohi laughed.
“Just go.”
Advika smiled and stepped outside.
Neither of them knew that the ordinary morning they had begun with would become the last ordinary morning for quite some time.
---
The cab was already late.
Not five minutes.
Not ten.
Twenty.
Advika stood outside the Rawat residence, her fingers wrapped tightly around her phone as she watched the road.
The booking had been made almost an hour ago.
The cab had arrived twenty minutes late.
And her interview was getting dangerously close.
She checked the time again.
“Please…”
She looked down the road.
“Just come.”
As if summoned by desperation, the cab finally appeared.
Advika exhaled in relief.
“Finally.”
She got inside and placed her folder carefully on her lap.
“Bhaiya, please thoda jaldi. Interview hai.”
The driver nodded.
“Don't worry, madam.”
The cab pulled away.
For the first few minutes, Advika tried to convince herself that everything was fine.
She opened her folder.
Checked the documents.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
Checked them again.
She pulled out her phone and glanced at the interview location.
Forty minutes.
Forty minutes should have been sufficient.
At least, that was what she told herself.
She leaned her head against the window.
Outside, the city moved with its usual indifference.
People hurried across streets.
Shops were opening.
Vehicles crawled through traffic.
Everyone seemed to be moving somewhere.
Everyone except her.
Her fingers tightened around the folder.
*I can do this.*
She repeated the thought silently.
*I can do this.*
But anxiety was an insidious thing.
It did not require permission.
It simply arrived.
Twenty minutes into the journey, she was mentally rehearsing her introduction when the cab suddenly lurched forward.
Advika's body jerked.
She grabbed the seat.
“What happened?”
The driver pressed the accelerator.
The engine sputtered.
Once.
Twice.
Then died.
Advika stared at the windshield.
“No.”
The driver tried again.
Nothing.
He tried once more.
Still nothing.
Advika looked at the clock.
Her stomach dropped.
“Bhaiya?”
The driver stepped outside.
He opened the bonnet.
Advika watched him inspect the engine.
His expression gradually became apologetic.
He returned.
“Madam…”
“What?”
“Engine mein problem lag rahi hai.”
Advika stared at him.
“Problem?”
“Ji.”
“How long?”
He hesitated.
“Thoda time lagega.”
Advika's patience evaporated.
“**Thoda time?**”
“Madam, I'm sorry—”
“Bhaiya, my interview is in less than twenty minutes!”
“I understand.”
“No, you don't.”
She looked at the time again.
Her heart began pounding.
“I booked this cab almost an hour ago. You were already late, and now this?”
“I really apologise, madam.”
Advika inhaled deeply.
Arguing wouldn't repair the engine.
She opened the door.
“Fine.”
The driver looked surprised.
“Madam?”
“I'll find another way.”
She stepped out.
The road was unfamiliar.
The traffic was relentless.
Her phone showed almost no network.
She rubbed her forehead.
For the first time that morning, genuine panic settled over her.
She had prepared for difficult interview questions.
She had prepared for rejection.
She had prepared for nervousness.
She had not prepared for her cab dying in the middle of nowhere.
“Great.”
She muttered bitterly.
“Absolutely perfect.”
Her eyes wandered across the road.
And then stopped.
There was a black car parked a short distance away.
Leaning against it was a man.
He stood with an almost unnerving stillness despite the chaos surrounding him.
Tall.
Composed.
Immaculately dressed.
There was nothing ostentatious about him, yet he possessed the sort of presence that instinctively drew attention.
He was looking down at his phone.
His expression was impassive.
Detached.
As though the world around him had little authority over him.
Advika stared.
For a second.
Then another.
Her brain, apparently choosing the worst possible moment to function independently, supplied a thought.
*Wow. Kya maal hai.*
She immediately blinked.
“No.”
She looked away.
“Absolutely not.”
She pressed her lips together.
“Advika, you have an interview.”
She looked at him again.
“And you need a lift.”
Another pause.
“That's it.”
She straightened her shoulders and approached him.
“Hello?”
Nothing.
He didn't look up.
Advika frowned.
“Hello?”
Still nothing.
She stepped closer.
“Excuse me?”
This time, his thumb stopped moving.
His eyes lifted.
Their gazes met.
There was something unsettling about his eyes.
Not because they were intimidating.
Because they were remarkably controlled.
No unnecessary emotion.
No curiosity.
No warmth.
Nothing that gave her any indication of what he was thinking.
Then his gaze returned to the phone.
“Hmm.”
Advika stared.
*Did he seriously just—*
“Actually…”
She cleared her throat.
“My cab broke down.”
Silence.
“And I'm running late for an important interview.”
Nothing.
“So I was wondering if…”
She hesitated.
“…you could give me a lift?”
“No.”
The answer came without hesitation.
Advika blinked.
“Excuse me?”
“I don't have time.”
He returned his attention to the phone.
Advika stared at him.
“Please.”
“No.”
“It's really important.”
“I said no.”
“Just drop me there. You don't even have to talk to me.”
His gaze flickered toward her.
“Tempting.”
She frowned.
“Are you always this rude?”
“Yes.”
At least he was honest.
Advika sighed.
“Please.”
He didn't answer.
“Please?”
Nothing.
“My interview is at Etire Enterprises.”
The change was almost imperceptible.
His fingers stopped.
His gaze lifted again.
For the briefest fraction of a second, something unreadable crossed his face.
Then it vanished.
“Where?”
“Etire Enterprises.”
A pause.
“Get in.”
Advika stared.
“What?”
“Get in the car.”
She glanced at the vehicle.
Then at him.
“That's it?”
His expression remained indifferent.
“You wanted a lift.”
“Yes.”
“Then get in.”
She quickly opened the passenger door.
“Thank you.”
He walked around to the driver's side.
Advika sat down and fastened her seat belt.
She looked at him.
Then at the dashboard.
Then at him again.
“I'm sorry for bothering you.”
No response.
The engine came alive.
And the car pulled away.
---
For the first few minutes, neither spoke.
Advika stared through the window.
The silence inside the vehicle was strangely oppressive.
She wasn't accustomed to people who could remain quiet without seeming uncomfortable.
Most people filled silence.
This man seemed to command it.
She glanced at him.
His hands rested steadily on the steering wheel.
His attention remained on the road.
There was an austere quality to his appearance.
Not cold exactly.
Just… inaccessible.
Advika decided not to speak.
That lasted approximately three minutes.
“So…”
Nothing.
She looked at him.
“Nice car.”
Silence.
“Very… black.”
Nothing.
She mentally sighed.
*Okay. Conversation cancelled.*
She returned her attention to the window.
Then frowned.
The road was unfamiliar.
Very unfamiliar.
She sat straighter.
“Wait.”
No response.
She looked outside again.
“Where are we going?”
Silence.
“This isn't the route.”
He continued driving.
“Hello?”
Nothing.
“Excuse me?”
His jaw tightened slightly.
“If you know the route better than me, you should've walked.”
Advika stared at him.
“Wow.”
She pointed toward the road.
“Then stop the car.”
He didn't.
“I'll walk.”
Nothing.
“Stop the car.”
Still nothing.
“Seriously, stop the car!”
Instead, the car accelerated.
Advika's eyes widened.
“You absolute twit!”
His expression didn't change.
“Are you kidnapping me?”
“No.”
“Then where are you taking me?”
“To your interview.”
“Then why are we going this way?”
“Because I know what I'm doing.”
Advika scoffed.
“That's exactly what kidnappers say.”
For the first time, the corner of his mouth moved.
Not quite a smile.
Something far more fleeting.
“You talk too much.”
“And you don't talk enough.”
Silence.
She folded her arms.
“You're very strange.”
“So are you.”
Advika looked at him.
“Was that an insult?”
“An observation.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Whatever.”
She glanced at the clock.
Her irritation dissolved into alarm.
“Wait.”
Her voice became quieter.
“How much time?”
He didn't answer.
She looked again.
Her pulse quickened.
“I'm going to be late.”
“You already were.”
She looked at him.
“What?”
He remained focused on the road.
“You were late before you got into my car.”
Advika opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Then muttered—
“Not helpful.”
A few moments later, the car turned.
And the building appeared.
Advika froze.
The towering glass facade of **Etire Enterprises** rose before them, reflecting the morning sunlight.
For a moment, she simply stared.
The enormous corporate headquarters stood with an almost intimidating grandeur.
She looked at the clock.
Two minutes.
Exactly two minutes before her scheduled interview.
Her breath caught.
“We're here?”
The man pulled the car to a stop.
Advika looked at him.
Then at the building.
Then back at him.
“How did you—?”
“Your interview.”
His voice remained calm.
“Go.”
She hurriedly gathered her folder.
“Oh my God.”
She opened the door.
Then stopped.
She turned around.
“Thank you.”
He didn't respond.
“And…”
She hesitated.
“I'm sorry for calling you a twit.”
Nothing.
She smiled awkwardly.
“Okay. Bye.”
She stepped out.
After a few hurried steps, she turned back.
“Thank you!”
This time, he merely looked at her.
Advika rushed toward the entrance.
Her footsteps echoed against the polished pavement as she disappeared through the enormous glass doors.
The man remained inside the car.
For several seconds, he watched the entrance.
Then his gaze drifted upward.
To the name engraved across the building.
**ETIRE ENTERPRISES.**
Something about his expression changed.
The detached stranger from moments ago seemed to disappear.
His face became colder.
More guarded.
His fingers tapped once against the steering wheel.
He looked toward the building again.
Then started the car.
The black vehicle slipped into the morning traffic and disappeared without attracting the slightest attention.
No one stopped him.
No one questioned him.
No one knew who he was.
And that was precisely how he preferred it.
Because the world knew the name of the man who stood beneath the spotlight of Etire Enterprises.
The world knew the face.
The world knew the celebrated CEO.
The world knew the name attached to every achievement, every headline, every success.
But the man who had just driven away?
Almost no one knew him.
And the people who did—
knew better than to speak.
For now, however, Advika had no idea that the seemingly indifferent stranger who had rescued her from a broken-down cab had a far deeper connection to the life she had just entered.
She only knew one thing.
She had two minutes to make the best impression of her life.
And somewhere behind those imposing glass doors, fate had already begun rearranging the pieces.
Q/A time
●What do you think will happen next?
●Will Advika pass the interview?
●Ans in the cmnts bbgs
Well....that's it for this one.
Hope you fell in love with this.👽🫶🏻
Aghhhhhh I'm new guys.....but....well atleast the story is quite interesting.
Soo....byieee😋🫶🏻
See you all in the next chapter
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