Ch-5

Ambika was engrossed in a file from Akshat Bhardwaj, an old client of the company, when a knock echoed through her cabin. Without looking up, she responded, “Come in.”

She expected it to be one of her employees, but the moment she heard the familiar, sarcastic voice, her fingers stiffened around the pages.

“Good morning, Ms. Sharma,” Yuvraj drawled, his tone laced with mock politeness.

Ambika’s eyes snapped up, momentarily stunned. She hadn’t expected him to walk into her cabin—especially not after their last heated argument. But she quickly composed herself, schooling her expression into one of polite indifference.

“Good morning, Mr. CEO,” she replied smoothly, keeping her voice professional. There was no point in engaging in another pointless spat.

Yuvraj took a step closer, hands buried in his pockets, his sharp gaze assessing her. “It would be nice if you called me ‘Sir’ or ‘Boss’ like everyone else.” His voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable edge to it.

Ambika met his gaze without hesitation. “No, thanks. I don’t see any issue in calling you CEO.”

His lips curled into a smirk, but his next words were anything but amused. “But I have a problem with it,” he said, his arrogance seeping into every syllable.

That was the last straw. Ambika shut the file with a sharp snap and leaned back in her chair. “Well, that’s not my problem, Mr. C.E.O,” she shot back, her tone firm but not loud. “If you have an issue, kindly keep it to yourself. Now, have a seat.”

There was a charged silence between them. Yuvraj’s smirk didn’t falter, but his eyes darkened slightly as if he enjoyed pushing her buttons. He strolled forward, finally settling into the chair across from her, the air between them thick with unspoken tension.

“Fine,” he said, tilting his head. “Let’s get to business, then.”

And just like that, the battle had begun—only this time, it wasn’t about words. It was about who would outlast the other in this relentless game of power and control.

Yuvraj settled into the chair across from Ambika, his posture exuding authority. His sharp gaze locked onto hers as he spoke in a firm, commanding tone.

“So, Ms. Sharma, I assume you have a valid reason for joining my company?”

Ambika calmly set her pen down and intertwined her fingers, maintaining a composed demeanor. “Of course.”

A smirk tugged at Yuvraj’s lips. “Oh, really? Then tell me—what’s the reason?”

Without hesitation, Ambika responded with unwavering confidence, “To achieve my dreams.”

Yuvraj leaned back slightly, his smirk deepening. He wasn’t satisfied with that answer. No, he wanted to dig deeper—to provoke her, to pull a reaction.

“And what’s your reason for entering my life?” His voice held an almost amused challenge.

Ambika’s brows furrowed slightly as she tilted her head, one eyebrow arching in question. “What do you mean by that?”

Yuvraj’s smirk turned sharper, more taunting. “Oh, so you don’t know? Let me enlighten you—you’re here for my attention and my money.”

For a moment, there was silence. Not because Ambika was speechless, but because she was processing just how absurd his words were.

Instead of getting angry, she exhaled slowly before replying in a deadpan tone. “I think you should book yourself a room in a mental hospital—”

Yuvraj’s jaw clenched. “You—”

Ambika raised a hand, cutting him off with sharp authority. “First, let me finish, Mr. CEO.” Her voice turned colder, sharper. “I am here only to achieve my dreams. Not to chase after you, and certainly not for your money. And for your kind information, even my shoes wouldn’t fall for you, so I’m far, far away from that possibility.”

Yuvraj’s expression darkened. No one had ever spoken to him like this before. The sheer audacity of her words left him momentarily stunned, his pride taking a hit.

“You can’t insult me,” he finally snapped.

Ambika leaned forward slightly, her gaze unwavering. “I’m not insulting you. I’m just stating facts.”

Yuvraj narrowed his eyes. “And your so-called fact is that you’re insulting my looks?”

A slow smirk spread across Ambika’s lips, amusement flickering in her eyes. “Oh? So, you think your looks are worth comparing to mine?”

Yuvraj’s irritation spiked. Pushing back his chair, he stood abruptly, towering over her. “Talking to you is just a waste of time.”

Ambika, however, remained seated, completely unbothered. “Then who told you to talk to me? And for the record, you’re not wasting your time—you’re wasting mine.”

She didn’t give him a chance to retort before adding with a dismissive wave, “And now, if you don’t mind, I have more important work to do than wasting time on people like you.”

Yuvraj’s hands curled into fists at his sides, his jaw tightening. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice in a warning tone. “You will regret messing with me, Ms. Ambika Sharma.”

Without sparing him a glance, Ambika returned her focus to the file she had been reading before he entered. Her voice was calm, unwavering.

“I don’t do things I’ll regret,” she stated simply, as if the conversation no longer held any importance to her.

Yuvraj stood there for a moment, his fists clenching at his sides. His jaw tightened, his pride stinging like an open wound. No one—not in his business empire, not in his entire life—had ever dared to challenge him like this. People usually feared him, respected him, and never even made direct eye contact, let alone talked back.

But this woman? Ambika Sharma?

She insulted him every single time they spoke, and worse—she did it so effortlessly, so casually, as if he wasn’t worth the effort of getting angry over.

Flames of irritation burned inside him as he turned on his heel and stormed out of her cabin. His strides were quick, purposeful, his rage barely contained as he entered his own office and slammed the door shut behind him.

This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

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Flight from London to Mumbai

A young woman, exhaustion evident in every line of her face. Dressed in a blue turtleneck with full sleeves, paired with a white skirt and matching white boots, she exuded effortless elegance despite the tired look in her eyes. Her long, dark hair cascaded freely over her shoulders, framing her face in soft waves. Even in her sleep-deprived state, there was an undeniable charm about her.

She was Aditi—returning home after weeks of hopping between health camps, traveling from one place to another without a moment of rest. All she wanted now was to settle into her seat, lean against the window, and sleep for the entire duration of the flight.

However, the universe had other plans.

As she reached her row, her eyes narrowed at the sight of someone else sitting in her seat.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward and cleared her throat.

Aditi: "Excuse me, you're sitting in my seat."

The man looked up from his laptop, his expression unreadable. Kartik Malhotra.

His sharp features were illuminated by the glow of the screen, and his deep-set eyes held nothing but nonchalance as he replied.

Kartik: "I don’t think so. My boarding pass says 17A."

Aditi’s brows furrowed. She checked her boarding pass again before holding it up like solid evidence.

Aditi (firmly): "I specifically booked the window seat. You must have taken it by mistake."

Kartik (calmly shutting his laptop): "I didn't take it by mistake. I booked this seat for myself."

Aditi (annoyed): "Well, I'm not going to sit in the middle seat."

Kartik leaned back, his tone unwavering.

Kartik: "I'm not moving. You’ll just have to take your assigned seat."

Aditi clenched her jaw. This was ridiculous.

Aditi: "I paid for the window seat!"

Kartik: "So did I. And I got here first."

Aditi: "That doesn't matter! I have my receipt right here. It clearly says 'window seat'."

Kartik smirked.

Kartik: "Mine says the same thing. Maybe you should’ve arrived earlier if you wanted to claim it."

Aditi’s eyes widened at his arrogance.

Aditi: "This is unfair. I always get the window seat. It's my thing."

Kartik: "Well, maybe it’s time to share. Or better yet, maybe you should take the middle seat for once."

Aditi: "No way. I'm not moving. Let’s go ask the flight attendant to sort this out."

Kartik (mocking her determination): "Fine. But I'm not giving up my seat."

The two marched toward the flight attendant, their silent battle continuing.

---

At the Flight Counter

The flight attendant gave them a polite but tired smile.

Flight Attendant: "I apologize for the confusion. Let me check on this."

She typed into the system, her eyes scanning the screen before looking up.

Flight Attendant: "It looks like there's been a mistake with the seating assignments. We'll need to reseat one of you."

Aditi shot Kartik a victorious smirk.

Aditi: "See? I told you it was a mistake."

Kartik rolled his eyes.

Kartik: "But I still don’t want to give up my seat."

The flight attendant sighed and checked again.

Flight Attendant: "Alright. I can offer you a different window seat a few rows back."

Kartik considered it for a moment before exhaling.

Kartik: "Hmm. I suppose that’s better than nothing."

Aditi beamed.

Aditi: "Ha! I knew I’d get to keep my seat."

Kartik shot her a mock-angry glare as he gathered his belongings.

Kartik (grumbling): "This isn’t over."

Aditi simply winked and settled into her window seat, victorious.

After hours of flying, the plane finally landed in Udaipur.

They stepped off the plane, neither acknowledging the other, both exhausted from the long journey. Aditi’s eyes were fixed on the luggage conveyor belt, scanning for her bag.

Meanwhile, Kartik, too, was busy on his phone, waiting for his suitcase to arrive.

Aditi's eyes caught sight of a red bag—her red bag—being lifted off the belt by none other than Kartik.

Her brows knitted together in confusion. Wait… isn’t that mine?

Before she could say anything, Kartik turned on his heel, ready to leave.

Aditi’s eyes darted back to the conveyor belt, and to her shock, another identical red bag appeared.

Realization struck.

He took the wrong bag!

Shaking her head, she grabbed the second red suitcase and hurried after him, calling out.

Aditi: "Hey! Mr. Window-Seat Thief! You took my luggage.

The man finally looked up from his phone, irritation flickering across his face. And, of course, Aditi was right—he was the one she was yelling at.

Kartik (coldly): "And you should watch your voice, Miss—"

Before he could finish, Aditi cut him off, her tone sharp.

Aditi: "That's my luggage! Give it back!"

Kartik: "No way. I just picked it up from baggage claim. It's mine."

Aditi: "It literally has my tag on it. You must have grabbed it by mistake."

Kartik: "I'm telling you, I checked the tag before I picked it up. It has my name on it."

Aditi (scoffing): "That's impossible. Let me see it again."

Kartik (grudgingly): "Fine. But you’re not taking it until we figure this out."

They unzipped the luggage, expecting to prove the other wrong. Instead, both stared in shock at the unfamiliar contents inside.

Aditi: "What the...? Where is my bag?"

Kartik: "And where’s mine? I had my laptop in it!"

They exchanged equally bewildered and exasperated looks.

Aditi: "You're worried about your laptop? Bro, my entire project file was in my bag!"

Kartik: "Great. Just great. Now what?"

Aditi (rolling her eyes): "We need to find our actual luggage."

Kartik: "Agreed. Let’s head to the baggage claim office."

The baggage claim staff apologized for the mix-up and promised to locate their missing bags. Forced to wait together, Aditi and Kartik sat in the uncomfortable airport chairs, frustration simmering between them.

Aditi (grumbling): "This is ridiculous. First, you take my seat, and now my luggage? I’m stuck here because of your carelessness."

Kartik (deadpan): "My carelessness? You're the one being inflexible. It’s just a luggage mix-up."

After what felt like an eternity, the staff finally returned with their correct bags.

Aditi (grabbing hers immediately): "Finally! Now I can get away from you."

Kartik (mocking): "See you never."

They stormed off in opposite directions, still fuming.

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