Chapter 2
The Malhotra Group wasn’t just a business empire—it was a legacy carved into the very skyline of India. Founded six decades ago by the visionary Rajveer Malhotra, it had grown into a conglomerate of luxury and influence. Malhotra Constructions owned skyscrapers in every major city, Malhotra Textiles dictated fashion trends from Milan to Mumbai, Malhotra Automotives turned heads with their sleek luxury cars, and Malhotra Media & Entertainment made sure their presence glittered even on the red carpets of Cannes. Their five-star resorts dotted exotic locations worldwide, each one a playground for the elite.
The Malhotras themselves lived in a mansion in Delhi that could rival royal palaces—marble corridors gleamed under crystal chandeliers, sprawling gardens burst with color, and the garage housed a fleet of cars worth more than some companies. In the business world, they were admired, envied, and—whispered in hushed tones—sometimes feared.
And right now, the head office of this empire was buzzing with a different kind of energy. Ruhan Malhotra, the eldest son and CEO, had just returned from a high-profile investors’ meeting. His sharp eyes scanned the day’s schedule when Kabir, his younger cousin, leaned in with a mischievous grin.
Kabir Malhotra ( ML cousin)
“Bhai, today’s the big day. The interviews for your new executive assistant. Ready to meet a hundred overqualified people pretending to like coffee?” ☕😏
Ruhan Malhotra (ML)
(dryly) “If they’re pretending to like coffee, they’ve already failed.”
Kabir Malhotra ( ML cousin)
“Wow. Cold and caffeinated as always.”
Meanwhile, in another corner of the city, Aarohi Sharma was double-checking her portfolio. Her father, Raghav Sharma—owner of the successful but modest-scale Sharma Exports & Enterprises—stood by the doorway with a proud smile.
Raghav Sharma ( FL father)
“Beta, are you sure you want to work somewhere else? You know the family business is always open for you.”
Aarohi Sharma (FL)
I know, Papa. But I want to prove myself outside of our name. I want to start from the ground up—even if that means making coffee for my boss.
Ayaan Sharma (FL brother)
(her elder brother, peeking in)Coffee? Please tell me you at least make better coffee than what she made last Sunday.😂
Aarohi Sharma (FL)
Bhai! That was your fault for putting salt instead of sugar!
Ayaan Sharma (FL brother)
Excuses, excuses…
Her mother called from the kitchen, and soon the family was laughing, but Aarohi’s heart was racing. Today could be the first step toward her own identity—a life outside the protective walls of her home.
Back at Malhotra headquarters, Ruhan’s phone buzzed.
???
His secretary reminded him, Sir, your first candidate will be here in twenty minutes.”
He didn’t know it yet, but that first candidate was about to turn his perfectly ordered life upside down.
Aarohi stepped out of the elevator into the twenty-second floor of the Malhotra Tower, her palms clammy despite the air-conditioning. The place radiated wealth — glass walls, abstract art that probably cost more than her apartment, and a view of Delhi that made the whole city look like it belonged to the Malhotras.
At the reception, a well-dressed woman with a clipped British accent looked up.
？？？
Miss Aarohi Sharma? Please follow me.
Her heels clicked nervously against the marble as she was led down a long corridor. From one of the glass-walled meeting rooms, she caught sight of Kabir Malhotra lounging on a chair, laughing into his phone. He noticed her, smirked, and mouthed, Good luck.
Inside the CEO’s office, Ruhan Malhotra was standing by the window, phone in hand, his back to her.
Ruhan Malhotra (ML)
(without turning) Have a seat.
His voice was deep, calm — the kind of voice that made you straighten your spine without realizing it. Aarohi sat, clutching her file.
When he finally turned, their eyes met for the first time. She’d expected arrogance, but there was also a sharp curiosity in his gaze.
Ruhan Malhotra (ML)
Aarohi Sharma. No relation to Sharma Automobiles or Sharma Bank, I presume?
Aarohi Sharma (FL)
No, sir. Sharma Exports. My father owns it
Ayaan Sharma (FL brother)
Interesting. And yet… you’re applying here?
Aarohi Sharma (FL)
Yes. I want to build my career without leaning on my family name
Ruhan studied her for a moment longer, then allowed the faintest smile.
Ruhan Malhotra (ML)
Brave. Or foolish. Let’s find out which.
From outside, Kabir’s muffled voice carried through the door
Kabir Malhotra ( ML cousin)
Bhai, don’t scare the poor girl! Remember, you need an assistant, not a hostage!😏
Ruhan Malhotra (ML)
Tell me, Miss Sharma… how do you handle impossible deadlines?
Aarohi Sharma (FL)
I don’t panic. I prioritize. And I don’t quit.
A beat of silence. Then, Ruhan leaned forward.
Ruhan Malhotra (ML)
You start Monday.
Aarohi Sharma (FL)
Just like that?
Ruhan Malhotra (ML)
Just like that.
As she left the office, Kabir caught up to her, walking backward with his hands in his pockets.
Kabir Malhotra ( ML cousin)
Welcome to the madhouse. I’m Kabir — resident troublemaker. You’ll like it here. Or hate it. Depends on how much you like sarcasm.
Aarohi Sharma (FL)
Oh, I can handle sarcasm.
Kabir Malhotra ( ML cousin)
Good. You’ll need it. Also… avoid the coffee machine on the third floor. It’s possessed.☕👻
Aarohi laughed for the first time that morning. She didn’t know it yet, but this place was about to test every part of her — and maybe change her life entirely.
Comments