Chapter 4: Unmasking the Chief Minister

For someone claiming to have “work in the government,” Aarav Malhotra sure had a lot of free time.

Over the next couple of days, Meera kept bumping into him.

At the vegetable market, where he argued with a vendor about the price of tomatoes like a seasoned aunty.

At the temple, where he tried to discreetly hide behind a pillar when someone recognized him.

And even outside BookNest, where he claimed to be “just passing by” — three times in one evening.

Meera was suspicious. Very suspicious.

“Either you’ve got no friends or you’re stalking me,” she told him bluntly one afternoon.

“I like this neighborhood,” Aarav replied with a shameless grin. “Good vibes. Great company.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please. You don’t even know how to bargain for dhaniya (Coriander).”

“I’m improving. Yesterday I got half a kilo for ten bucks less.”

“Wow. Next stop — world domination.”

They laughed.

But while Meera had begun to tolerate — even secretly enjoy — his unplanned visits, something about him still didn’t sit right.

Who was this guy, really?

Then came the twist.

One evening, as Meera sat with Chintu watching a TV debate about a local water crisis, something caught her attention.

The anchor’s voice blared from the screen:

“And joining us now, our honorable Chief Minister, Shri Aarav Malhotra…”

Meera’s heart stopped.

*The camera zoomed in.*

Same face. Same smug grin. Same annoyingly perfect hair.

Her Aarav.

Except, not hers.

"The Chief. Minister. Of. Rajasthan".

She stared at the screen, then at the phone number scribbled on a scrap of paper he’d left for her at the shop.

Same number.

“Bua? Why are you making murder face?” Chintu asked.

Meera shot up, grabbing her dupatta. “I’ll be back in five minutes. Don’t burn the shop down.”

“Can I have a pastry?”

“No!”

And she was out the door.

At the CM Residence

Aarav was half-listening to his secretary ramble about a meeting when his phone rang.

Meera Calling.

He smiled. Finally. She probably wanted to hang out. Maybe even apologize for calling him a trouble magnet.

“Hello, Jhansi ki Rani—”

“How dare you!” Meera exploded before he could finish.

Aarav winced, holding the phone away from his ear.

“Uh… can I explain?”

“Explain what, Mr. Chief Minister? That you’ve been walking around my shop like a tourist while running the freaking state?”

“I didn’t mean to lie. I just… wanted a break.”

“Oh, so you thought I’m some idiot you could charm with your VIP face and mystery act?”

“No! I liked talking to you because you didn’t know who I was.”

“Congratulations. Now I know. And I don’t like liars, Mr. Malhotra.”

“Meera, wait—”

“Don’t bother. And don’t show your face at BookNest again.”

*Click.*

Aarav stared at his phone, his heart sinking like a stone.

He hadn’t felt this stupid since the day he accidentally called his strict maths teacher “Mom” in class eight.

Lakhan Singh, standing nearby, cleared his throat. “Sir, everything alright?”

Aarav sighed. “No, Lakhan. Everything’s bloody terrible.”

* Meanwhile, at BookNest*

Meera paced the floor like an angry tigress.

“Liar, Cheater, Politician,” she muttered. “I should’ve known. Who the hell drinks bitter coffee and pays thousand-rupee notes for books?”

Chintu, munching a fries Meera had forgotten to forbid this time, watched her.

Meera stopped. “I… I don’t know, Chintu.”

She sighed, sinking onto a chair.

“Maybe not bad. Just… not what I thought.”

Chintu came over and hugged her leg. “I liked him. He made funny faces.”

Meera smiled weakly, ruffling his hair. “Yeah, well. Even funny faces can lie, kid.”

But deep down, somewhere beneath the anger and betrayal, a tiny part of her missed him already.

Damn it.

“Bua, is he a bad man?”

...****************...

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