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Vaamika stepped off the plane, her heart racing as the Bangalore air brushed against her face. Excitement prickled through her veins, mixing with a touch of nervousness. She scanned the arrivals area, and her eyes immediately fell on a man in a crisp driver’s suit, standing tall and holding a board with her name neatly printed on it.

“Miss Vaamika Trivedi?” he asked politely, a professional smile on his face.

“That’s me,” she said, her voice trembling with anticipation. “I… I guess you are here for me?”

“Yes, Miss,” he replied, bowing slightly before gesturing toward the waiting car. “I am Balraj. I will be taking you to your accommodation.”

Vaamika’s lips curved into a small smile. 

“Thank you, Balraj bhai. I… I am not exactly used to this kind of service,” she admitted, glancing around as they walked toward the sleek black car.

“You will get used to it quickly, Miss. Bangalore traffic is unpredictable, so sit back and relax.” Balraj chuckled softly. 

Sliding into the plush leather seat, Vaamika couldn’t help but let her eyes wander over the polished interior of the car. 

“It’s… nice,” she murmured. “I mean, I have been in fancy cars, but this… this feels different.”

“It’s nothing compared to where you are heading,” Balraj said, starting the engine smoothly. “The Acharyas’ hotel is one of the finest in the city. Presidential suites, impeccable service… you will see for yourself.”

Vaamika’s breath hitched slightly at the word presidential suite. She had imagined something comfortable, perhaps even elegant, but the suite had never conjured visions of grandeur in her mind.

As the car glided through Bangalore’s bustling streets, she pressed her forehead lightly against the cool glass, taking in the city she had once only known through letters and stories. 

“It’s… so lively here,” she said. 

“Different, yes,” Balraj agreed, keeping his eyes on the road. “Bangalore has its charm. You will find it… refreshing.”

“Refreshing… I hope I can settle in quickly. Everything is just… so new.” Vaamika smiled, her fingers drumming against her lap in excitement and anticipation..

“You will,” Balraj reassured her. “I have driven many guests here, and the Acharyas make sure everyone feels at home. You will be comfortable, Miss.”

The car finally pulled up in front of a towering boutique hotel, its modern facade gleaming in the late afternoon sun. Vaamika’s eyes widened in awe.

“Oh… wow,” she whispered. “This… this is… incredible.”

“Welcome, Miss Trivedi. If you will follow me, I will take you to your suite.” Balraj opened her door with a polite bow.

She followed him into the lobby, where marble floors reflected the sparkling chandeliers above. The staff greeted her with warm smiles, and she felt a thrill run through her chest, a mix of excitement and disbelief.

Balraj led her to the elevator, and soon the doors opened to reveal the presidential suite. Vaamika stepped inside, and her jaw practically dropped. The space was vast, each corner meticulously designed, blending luxury with comfort. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed a breathtaking city view, and the soft, plush furnishings called to her tired mind and body.

“I… I have never… stayed anywhere like this,” she whispered, her voice trembling in wonder.

“Enjoy your stay, Miss Trivedi. The Acharyas believe their guests deserve nothing less.” Balraj smiled gently.

Vaamika walked slowly through the suite, her fingers brushing over the smooth wooden surfaces and silk upholstery. Vaamika had never experienced a suite like this before. Sure, she came from a wealthy family, but her life had mostly been defined by the boarding schools and college hostels. The few trips she had taken with friends were always modest, carefully planned to suit everyone’s budget. This—spacious rooms, gleaming surfaces, luxurious decor—was entirely new to her. For the first time, she felt the full weight of luxury around her, and it both thrilled and overwhelmed her.

“If there is anything you need, Miss Trivedi… I am at your service.” Balraj cleared his throat softly. 

“Thank you, Balraj bhai. I… I think this is going to be… amazing. And please call me Vaamika.” She turned to him, a small, grateful smile tugging at her lips.

****

Once Vaamika settled onto the plush couch, sinking into its softness, the phone rang. She groaned, stretching lazily before picking it up.

“Hello?” She said, hiding her excitement behind a composed tone.

“Vaamika Trivedi,” a deep, commanding voice said.

Her spine tingled at the sound. She forced herself to stay calm. 

“Yes… speaking,” she replied smoothly.

“This is Adithyan Acharya. I hope your journey was pleasant,” Adithyan continued, his voice brisk, almost impatient.

“It was… quite nice, thank you,” she said, letting just the slightest edge of amusement slip into her voice.

“And I trust you are satisfied with the accommodation,” he added, the words clipped as if this was merely a formality.

Vaamika smirked, curling one finger around the edge of the phone. Well, Mr. Acharya, she thought, let’s see how it goes when I start having a little fun with you.

“Is that even a question?” she said, teasing. “I feel like royalty. Really, I could get used to living in my own little palace.”

There was a pause on the other end. 

“I wanted your two days here to be… comfortable, Ms. Trivedi,” he said finally, his tone attempting authority.

Two days! Vaamika’s mind danced. Two days, he says… let’s shake things up a bit.

“That’s… very thoughtful,” she cooed innocently. “Truly. This is the most comfortable I have ever felt anywhere. Ever.”

“Good. Take a rest. We meet at nine tomorrow morning,” Adithyan said, a sharp edge to his voice that made her eyebrow lift.

“Nine?” she echoed, feigning shock. “Is that an order, Mr. Acharya?”

“Uh… not exactly,” he said, caught off guard. “I just… informing you of the scheduled time.”

“Well, here is the problem. I am not really a morning person. If we meet at nine, I would have to leave by half past eight, get ready by eight… and that means waking up at… oh, at least half past seven. That’s absurdly early. Surely, we can adjust a bit? Eleven, perhaps… or twelve?” Vaamika’s grin widened.

There was a long silence on the line, the kind that made her smirk widen even further. 

“Half past eleven it is, then. See you tomorrow,” she said breezily, cutting him off before he could protest.

“Wait—”

Click.

Adithyan’s muttered curse echoed in the silence that followed, leaving Vaamika leaning back on the couch, chuckling to herself. Oh, this is going to be fun…

****

Once Vaamika had freshened up and slipped onto the soft bed, her phone rang again. She frowned, surprised. She doesn’t have many people who calls her on the phone. Her friends usually keep in touch through social media. Rarely does anybody even make phone calls. But the moment she saw the number, her heart softened. It was from Bhavya’s boarding school. Bhavya Trivedi. Her little sister.

“Bhavi…” Vaamika said warmly as she picked up, her voice instinctively gentle.

“Di! You reached Bangalore?” Bhavya’s voice came tumbling through the line, bright and bubbling with excitement.

“Yes,” Vaamika answered, smiling despite herself.

“Did you see him yet?” Bhavya’s eagerness was palpable; she could practically hear her sister bouncing on the other end.

Vaamika chuckled softly. Only Bhavya—and one other—knew the real reason behind her arrival in Bangalore. 

“Not yet. But I will be meeting him tomorrow.” Vaamika said.

“I can’t wait to hear everything,” Bhavya gushed. “I will call you from a friend’s phone after school. Promise.”

Vaamika shook her head, though fondness laced her tone. Mobile phones were strictly forbidden in Bhavya’s school, except for the weekly fifteen-minute call students were allowed with family. But Bhavya had her ways. With a few daring day-scholar friends willing to smuggle phones onto campus, she often found chances to connect with Vaamika in stolen minutes.

“Okay, Bhavi,” Vaamika said. “Take care of yourself. The term break is coming soon. This time, I will book your tickets for Bangalore. We will have a blast here together.”

“Can’t wait,” Bhavya said wistfully before hanging up.

The room fell quiet again, but Vaamika’s thoughts refused to rest. Inevitably, they drifted back to him.

Adithyan Acharya.

The love of her life.

It had started as nothing more than a girlish crush almost ten years ago. Back when he used to visit their home with his grandfather, she had been hopelessly taken by him—his easy charm, his quiet authority, the way his presence seemed to command attention without effort. And though time had passed, the crush had not faded. If anything, it had grown, deepened, transformed.

Even now, lying in the grand suite, her heart fluttered just thinking of him. Ten years, and her feelings had only sharpened.

And now here she was. In Bangalore. His city. Finally close enough not just to dream—but to claim him.

Adithyan wasn’t a boy anymore. Time had not merely matured him; it had forged him. The softness she remembered from his youth was gone, stripped away, leaving behind a man shaped from steel. That easy smile she once adored had given way to restraint, to a lean and measured expression that carried both power and mystery. He moved like someone carved for authority, someone whose very existence demanded respect, and perhaps even obedience.

Vaamika had watched from afar, year after year, as the image of him in her heart evolved. Her feelings had distilled, like fine wine. What had been innocent infatuation had become unwavering devotion. Love had deepened into determination.

But she knew the mountain she was about to climb. Adithyan was not a man who yielded easily. Beautiful women had no doubt tried, women with charm, with pedigree, with everything the world could offer. And yet, none had ever succeeded in holding him. No gossip columns hinted at scandals, no photographs of whispered romances ever emerged. He remained untouchable. Unmoved.

Instead, there was only the unshakable reputation: a man of precision, of discipline, whose loyalty inspired reverence, and whose very name carried weight, sometimes respect, sometimes quiet fear.

But Vaamika’s lips curved into the faintest smile. She was not afraid. She had not crossed years and miles, she had not nurtured this love in silence, only to walk away now.

Adithyan Acharya might have built walls of steel around himself. But she had every intention of breaking through them.

Tomorrow, she will walk into his office.

Tomorrow, the game will begin.

And Adithyan Acharya wouldn’t even realize he was already losing.

A/N

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