ISHA'S POV:

It was around 11 when we reached the office.
The moment I stepped out of my car, my eyes instinctively travelled upward. There it was. Mittal Constructions. Our company.

The headquarters stood tall in the middle of Jaipur, its entire exterior covered in sleek glass that reflected the morning sunlight. The building had forty floors, with an iconic Mittal Constructions logo.

To most people, it was just another multinational corporation. To me, it was my second home.

I walked through the massive glass entrance, and the familiar sight immediately greeted me.
The reception area was always busy. Employees moved in every direction, some carrying files, others discussing projects over calls, while a few hurried toward the elevators with coffee cups in their hands.

The interiors were a perfect combination of elegance and functionality—polished marble floors, modern lighting, private meeting rooms enclosed in glass walls and huge digital screens displaying ongoing projects and international operations. Mittal Constructions wasn't limited to India. We had offices spread across several countries, with businesses ranging from technology and finance to real estate, manufacturing and hospitality. Thousands of employees worked under the Mittal name, and every department had its own little world.

I smiled faintly as I looked around. I'd grown up watching this place evolve.
I had watched Papa build it from the ground up, expand it across borders and turn a small family business into one of the most recognised multinational corporations in the country.

And now... I was a part of it. Not because I was his daughter. At least, that was what I kept reminding myself. I had worked for my position. I had earned my place. My heels clicked against the marble floor as I headed toward the elevators. The familiar silver logo reflected in the glass doors in front of me. ISHA MITTAL (COO).
With a bright smile, I prepared myself for the day ahead.

I had been working non-stop ever since I stepped into the office because today was not an ordinary day at Mittal Constructions.

Today, we were supposed to sign the biggest deal yet with the Rathore Chain of Hotels.

Technically, all the Rathore projects were handled by Mittals anyway, so one might wonder what made this deal so special.

Well... This one was different. And how do I know that?
Because the Rathores had held an auction for this particular hotel chain. Okay, fine. Not exactly an auction. I was being dramatic.

But there had definitely been a whole bidding process, with enough secrecy, negotiations, and ridiculous amounts of money to make it feel like one. And somehow, we had won. Or at least, I thought we had. Apparently, Mr Rudransh Singh Rathore had decided to personally inspect everything before putting his final stamp of approval on the project.

Currently, Vihaan Bhai and Mr Rathore were supposed to be in London for the site inspection.

Except— Mr Rathore was back.

And apparently, he had decided that today was the perfect day to walk into our office and demand a complete presentation of every idea, design and architectural concept we had prepared for his hotel. 
Because why wait? 
Why give architects time to breathe? 
Why allow employees to have functioning heartbeats? No.

Mr Rudransh Singh Rathore wanted everything today. So here I was, sitting in my office since morning, surrounded by blueprints, architectural models, design samples and approximately three hundred cups of coffee.

Okay, maybe not three hundred. But emotionally? Three hundred.

And the worst part? This wasn't just another corporate presentation. This was the project. The kind of project that could make our company look brilliant... Or make us collectively question every career decision that had brought us to this office.

While I was busy pitying myself and questioning every decision that had led me to this moment, Riyansh Bhai walked into my office.

"Kiddo, the Rathores have decided to come tomorrow. So, you have time until then. Please go and rest. It looks like you've already consumed at least three hundred coffees."

See? Only my Bhai understood me. He understood my emotional state. He understood my suffering. He even understood that I looked like someone who had personally sponsored the coffee industry. But wait... What did he mean by tomorrow?

My head snapped toward him so quickly that I was pretty sure I heard my neck crack. I glared at him.

If my life were a television serial, this was the exact moment when the background music would have gone— Dhoom taana, dhoom taana...

"What do you mean by that?" I asked. Or, more accurately, shouted.

Bhai gave me the most sheepish smile known to mankind and replied,  "I got a call from Rudransh's assistant. He said Rudransh wanted to spend some time with his family, so he postponed the meeting."

I stared at him.

Once.

Twice.

My brain processed the information. And then— 

"Pagal hai kya woh?" I shouted.
(Is he out of his mind?)

I got up from my chair and started pacing around my office and shouted,  "Jab Bhagwan dimaag baant rahe honge, toh woh pakka end mein hoga. Isiliye dimaag nahi mila usse! Idiot!"
(When God was distributing brains, he must have been standing at the very end of the line. That's why he didn't get any!)

I pointed dramatically toward absolutely nothing and said, "Earlier, he preponed a meeting that was supposed to happen next week to today, and now he's postponed it to tomorrow!"

I threw my hands in the air, "Uska kutta Tommy, sada kutta kutta. Uski life life hai, humari ki toh koi value hi nahi hai!"

(His dog is Tommy, and our dog is just a dog. His life is a life, but apparently ours has absolutely no value!)

Bhai stared at me for a few seconds. Then he sighed and said, "Shaant, mere Bheem, shaant."
(Calm down, my Bheem, calm down.)

He gave me a look that clearly said Please remember that you are talking about a very powerful man, "Don't forget, he is the King of Rajasthan."

I slowly turned toward him. Then I gave him the most bombastic side-eye I could manage and asked, "Kaun banaya raja isko?"
(Who made him the king?)

Bhai's lips twitched as he tried desperately not to laugh.

I, however, was nowhere near amused. Who cared if he was the King of Rajasthan? Who cared if he owned half the hospitality industry? Who cared if his face could probably make an entire boardroom fall silent?

He had messed with my schedule. And that, ladies and gentlemen, was a crime I was personally prepared to prosecute. I grabbed my phone and called my assistant, "Tell the team the meeting has been postponed to tomorrow."

I paused and then continued, "And tell them to keep everything ready."

Another pause. Then I added bitterly, "Because apparently, His Highness has decided that the rest of us don't have lives."

Everyone in the office knew Isha was irritated.

And, to be fair, Rudransh Singh Rathore wasn't entirely responsible. There was another, far more dangerous culprit involved. Her period was due.

Normally, Isha was as sweet as an angel—polite, cheerful and almost impossible to annoy. But a few days before her period? Well... The angel resigned. The devil took over.

Riyansh knew his little sister well enough to recognise the signs. The irritated expression, the dramatic sighing, the death stares and, most importantly, the sudden urge to declare war on anyone who inconvenienced her.

So, instead of testing his luck, he wisely chose survival and said, "Kiddo, just take the day off. Forget the project for today and focus on yourself. The project isn't going anywhere."

Isha simply nodded. For once, she didn't argue. She walked into the washroom and changed out of her formal office clothes. She had been feeling suffocated in them all day anyway.

A few minutes later, she emerged wearing grey sweatpants, a white tank top and an oversized grey hoodie. Basically, she had gone from corporate queen to professional couch potato in under five minutes.

Riyansh looked at her. Then looked at her again. And burst out laughing.

Isha narrowed her eyes and asked,  "What?"

"Nothing," he said, desperately trying to control his laughter. "It's just..." He paused, looking her up and down and then continued,  "Who would've thought the girl who rules boardrooms and people's hearts would one day walk into the office looking like a teenager who has been grounded and hasn't left her room in three days?"

"Bhai..." Isha whined, glaring at him.

That only made him laugh harder, and he continued, "Okay, okay! Go and enjoy your day off." He raised his hands in surrender. "Otherwise, if Bhai finds out I've made his favourite sister work all day, woh toh meri band baja denge."
(He'll absolutely destroy me.)

He even shivered dramatically at the thought. Isha rolled her eyes and headed toward the door. She was almost out when she suddenly stopped.

Turning around, she looked at her brother with a suspiciously sweet smile and said, "Bhai..."

Riyansh immediately became cautious.

"You said it wrong," Isha stated.

His eyebrows furrowed, and he asked, "What?"

Isha folded her arms and replied, "He won't be pissed because you've made his favourite sister work all day."

She paused dramatically. "He'll be pissed because you made his favourite sibling work all day."

Riyansh stared at her. For three seconds, there was complete silence. Then he pointed at her and said, "You're evil."

Isha smiled innocently and replied, "I know."

And with that, the corporate queen turned into a hoodie-clad menace and walked away.