CHAPTER FOUR: MEETING DESTINY
Priya sat on the edge of the chair in her hotel room, her brow furrowed as she counted the last of her money. She frowned, her fingers trembling slightly as she reached the final bill. With a frustrated sigh, she pushed the money away and slumped back in her seat, feeling the weight of her impulsive spending. “Ahh, Priya… you’re really mad,” she muttered to herself, her voice tinged with a mixture of self-reproach and disbelief. “You’ve spoiled all your money on shopping… Ahh f**k…” She buried her face in her hands, letting out a groan of frustration. The realization that she had barely enough money left to survive the week hit her like a ton of bricks. “Now what should I do?” she whispered, her voice filled with despair. “Now I have to find a job first.”
As she stared blankly at the wall, trying to figure out her next move, a knock on the door snapped her out of her thoughts. The sound was sharp, yet polite, and it echoed in the room. “Mam, your food,” came the waiter’s voice from the other side of the door.
Priya got up and opened the door, her mind still swirling with worries. The waiter stepped inside, his movements precise and efficient as he set the food on the table. As she watched him, an idea began to form in her mind, but it was so faint and uncertain that she wasn’t sure if it was worth pursuing. Her eyes followed the waiter’s every move, and suddenly, another thought crossed her mind a possibility that made her heart beat a little faster.
She hesitated for a moment, biting her lip as she weighed her options, before finally deciding to take a chance. “Can I ask you something?” she asked, her voice tentative and a little unsure.
The waiter looked up from his task, his expression polite and attentive. “Sure, Miss,” he replied, his tone respectful.
Priya took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. “Do you know about any place where I can apply for a job?” she asked, her voice tinged with a mix of hope and desperation.
The waiter blinked, surprised by the unexpected question. He paused, considering her request seriously. “What kind of job?” he asked, his tone thoughtful.
“Any type,” she replied quickly, her voice a little too eager. She could see him thinking, his brow furrowing slightly as he considered her situation.
After a few moments, he nodded. “I know a couple of places. You can try there,” he said finally, his voice reassuring.
A wave of relief washed over Priya, and she smiled warmly at him, grateful for his kindness. “Oh, thank you… just give me the details, I’ll try to go there,” she said, her voice brimming with gratitude.
The waiter nodded again and quickly scribbled down a few addresses on a piece of paper before handing it to her. “Good luck, Miss,” he said with a friendly smile before leaving the room.
Priya looked at the paper in her hand, her heart swelling with hope. She visited each company one by one, but as the day wore on, her optimism slowly faded. Every interview ended the same way, with polite rejections. By the time night fell, she was exhausted and disheartened, her earlier enthusiasm all but gone.
That evening, as she sat in the hotel lobby, staring blankly at the floor, the waiter spotted her and approached her cautiously. “Good evening, Miss,” he greeted her softly, his voice filled with concern.
Priya nodded in response, but the usual warmth in her smile was missing. “What happened… did you get a job?” he asked gently, sensing that something was wrong.
“No,” she replied flatly, her voice tinged with frustration and defeat.
“Why?” he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.
Priya sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping as she explained, “Actually, the thing is, I don’t have my qualifications and experience certificates, so I can’t…” Her voice trailed off as she struggled to find the words to express her disappointment. “Don’t you know any place where I can get a job without all of this?” she asked, her tone turning desperate.
The waiter looked at her thoughtfully, weighing his next words carefully. He could see that she was not just any ordinary jobseeker because there was a depth to her that intrigued him. “Yes, there is a place… But…” he began, hesitating as he considered the implications of his suggestion.
Priya, misinterpreting his pause, quickly cut him off. “I know it must be some low place job!” she said, her voice laced with resignation.
“No, it’s a very high place… And the job is as the chairman’s assistant,” he said, surprising her.
Priya raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “So you mean I have to work under an arrogant uncle… It’s okay, I can try there also… you just tell me the place,” she said, her tone a mix of determination and a bit of sarcasm.
“It’s K-Group,” he said, giving her the name instead of the location, knowing that the name alone was enough to give her directions. K-Group was a household name in the construction industry, not just in France, but across Europe. The mere mention of it carried weight and prestige.
“K-Group… Why do I feel like I’ve heard this name somewhere before?” Priya said, her voice filled with confusion as she tried to recall where she had encountered the name.
“Maybe it’s because it’s a very famous company,” the waiter replied with a small smile.
“Hmm, maybe…” Priya mused, her mind still working to place the name.
“By the way, best of luck,” the waiter said warmly before leaving her to her thoughts.
The next morning, Priya stood at the bus stop, waiting anxiously. She was lost in thought, her mind racing with all the possibilities and challenges that lay ahead. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a motorcycle zoomed past her at high speed, and before she could react, the rider snatched her bag from her hands and sped off down the street.
Priya’s heart pounded in her chest as she watched the thief disappear down the road. Panic and anger surged through her, but she quickly snapped out of it when she noticed another bike parked nearby. Without thinking twice, she dashed over to the bike, her adrenaline pumping. It was Aryan’s bike, but she didn’t know that and nor did she care. She needed to get her bag back, and she was willing to do whatever it took.
With a determined glint in her eyes, she jumped onto the bike and revved the engine. The bike roared to life, and without a second thought, she sped off after the thief. As she tore down the street, narrowly avoiding pedestrians and weaving through traffic, Aryan, who had been on a call nearby, noticed what was happening. He quickly realized that someone had just stolen his bike, and his face twisted with a mix of shock and anger.
“Hey! Stop!” he shouted, but Priya was already long gone. Furious, Aryan ran after her, but it was a futile effort because she was too far ahead, and he knew he wouldn’t catch up on foot. “Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, quickly deciding to head to the police station instead.
Meanwhile, Priya was gaining on the thief, her eyes locked on her target. The wind whipped through her hair as she pushed the bike to its limits, her heart pounding with a mix of fear and determination. As she closed in on the thief, she leaned forward, her hand outstretched. With a swift, precise movement, she grabbed the thief by the collar and yanked him back, causing him to lose his balance and crash to the ground.
She skidded to a stop, the bike’s tires screeching on the pavement as she hopped off and rushed over to the fallen thief. Without hesitation, she grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him up, her anger boiling over. “How dare you steal from me!” she shouted, her voice filled with fury as she landed a solid punch to his face. The thief yelped in pain, begging for mercy as a crowd began to gather around them.
“Please… I’m sorry!” the thief pleaded, his voice trembling with fear. But Priya wasn’t ready to let him off the hook so easily. She gave him another hard shove, making it clear that she wasn’t about to let him walk away from this.
The onlookers, impressed by her bravery, began to murmur among themselves, urging her to take the thief to the police. “You should hand him over to the authorities,” one of them suggested, nodding in approval.
Priya, still fuming, nodded in agreement. “Let’s go,” she said, dragging the thief along as she headed towards the police station.
“I don’t know who she is, but the way she stole my bike, she must be a professional thief,” Aryan said to the police officer, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He was in the middle of filing a report when Priya walked in with the thief in tow.
Priya’s eyes flared with anger as she heard his words. She stopped dead in her tracks, turning to face him with a fierce glare. “Yah! How dare you call me a thief!” she shouted, her voice filled with righteous indignation.
Aryan met her gaze with equal intensity, not backing down. “Arrest her, she’s the thief,” he said to the police officer, his tone authoritative and cold.
The police officer, caught between the two, looked at Priya uncertainly. Just as he was about to reach for her, Priya shoved the real thief towards him. “Firstly, arrest him… He stole my bag and ran,” she said firmly, her voice leaving no room for argument. She then turned to Aryan and tossed the bike keys back to him with a sharp flick of her wrist. “I have no interest in stealing your useless bike… I just needed it to catch the thief, so I took it.”
Aryan caught the keys, his expression darkening with each passing second. “Has no one taught you that before taking someone’s goods, it is necessary to ask him?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.
“No,” Priya shot back defiantly, her chin tilted up in challenge. With that, she turned on her heel and walked out of the station, leaving Aryan standing there, seething with anger and confusion.
As he watched her go, Aryan’s mind raced. ‘Who the hell is this girl… And how dare she talk to me like this?’ he thought, his hands clenching into fists as he struggled to control his temper.
Aryan stormed into his office, still fuming from the encounter. Karan noticed his sour mood the moment he walked in. “Good morning,” Karan greeted him cautiously, trying to gauge Aryan’s temper.
Aryan barely acknowledged him with a nod, his mind still fixated on the earlier events. “Is everything okay…? You’re looking angry… Did something happen?” Karan asked, concern lacing his voice.
“Nothing,” Aryan snapped, his tone sharp and final. He didn’t want to talk, not now, at least. “You tell me, I asked you to hire an assistant for me. What happened?” he asked, changing the subject abruptly.
Karan, sensing that it was better not to press the issue, quickly nodded. “Some people are coming for the interview. It’s better that you take their interview,” he suggested, trying to keep things professional.
“Send them one by one to my cabin,” Aryan ordered, his tone clipped as he strode towards his office.
“Okay,” Karan replied, watching Aryan disappear into his office before he turned and headed to the waiting area to call the candidates.
The waiting area was bustling with quiet murmurs and the occasional shuffle of footsteps. Priya sat in a corner, her hands gripping her bag tightly because of nervusness1 as she rehearsed her answers for the interview. The air felt heavy with anticipation, and every passing minute seemed to stretch into an eternity.
As the door to the office opened, Karan stepped out, his confident stride drawing attention from those waiting. His eyes scanned the room, landing on Priya. For a brief moment, his brow furrowed as if trying to place her, and then recognition lit up his face. A friendly smile curved his lips as he approached her.
“Hi,” he greeted, his tone warm and familiar, cutting through the hum of the room.
Priya looked up, startled at first, but quickly composed herself. “Hello,” she replied, returning his smile with a polite one of her own.
Karan studied her for a moment, his curiosity evident. “If I’m not wrong, you’re the same girl I met at the airport, right?” he asked, tilting his head slightly as he tried to confirm his memory.
Priya hesitated briefly, her mind racing. Should she acknowledge the connection or deflect? Deciding it was harmless, she nodded. “Hmm,” she hummed softly, her smile widening just enough to seem friendly but not overly familiar.
Karan’s curiosity deepened. “What are you doing here?” he asked, genuinely intrigued by the coincidence of seeing her again in the same building.
“I’m here for an interview,” Priya answered, her tone casual but laced with just enough professionalism to avoid further probing. “And you?”
“I work here,” Karan said, grinning as if the revelation amused him. The déjà vu of their meeting was uncanny, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that fate was playing a hand.
“Oh, I see,” Priya replied, nodding in understanding. Her mind, however, was working overtime. Of all the people to cross paths with again, why him? She reminded herself to stay composed; this was just another step in her plan.
Karan leaned in slightly, his demeanor shifting to one of polite authority. “You wait for your turn. I will call you,” he said, his tone professional yet maintaining a hint of friendliness.
“Okay,” Priya agreed, settling back into her seat. She adjusted her posture, forcing herself to exude calm confidence even as her thoughts whirled.
As Karan turned to leave, he paused mid-step, as though realizing something. He looked back at her, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “By the way, what’s your name?” he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
Priya’s heart skipped a beat. She had rehearsed every possible question for the interview, but this simple inquiry caught her off guard. Her lips parted instinctively to say her name, “P…” but she stopped herself just in time. Her real name could complicate things, especially in a place like this.
“P… what?” Karan prompted, raising an eyebrow at her hesitation.
“Not P… It’s Riya,” Priya quickly corrected, the alias slipping out with practiced ease. Her heart pounded as she forced a casual smile, hoping he wouldn’t question it further.
Karan’s grin widened, and he nodded in approval. “Riya… Nice name,” he said, his tone genuinely complimentary. “I’m Karan.”
“Oh, nice,” Priya responded, her smile polite but distant. She couldn’t afford to let her guard down. This was just a fleeting interaction, and she needed to keep it that way.
“Now, you wait here,” Karan said, excusing himself with a slight wave. “I’ll call you when it’s your turn.”
“Okay,” Priya replied, watching him walk away. She exhaled softly, allowing herself a moment to regroup. The name “Riya” felt foreign on her tongue, but it was a necessary facade. She straightened her posture, mentally preparing for the next step.
A few minutes later, Karan returned, holding a clipboard in one hand. “Miss Riya… Please come this way,” he called, his voice carrying a professional tone as he scanned the waiting area.
Priya stood up, clutching her folder tightly. “Okay,” she said, her voice steady despite the knot tightening in her stomach. Following him through the corridor, she reminded herself to focus. The stakes were too high for her to falter now.
As they reached the door to the office, Karan turned to her with an encouraging smile. “Best of luck,” he said sincerely, his tone carrying an easy warmth.
“Thank you,” Priya replied, her voice softer now. She appreciated the gesture but couldn’t afford to dwell on it. Taking a deep breath, she knocked lightly on the door and pushed it open.
“May I come in, sir?” she asked, her voice measured and steady, though her heart was pounding in her chest.
“Hm,” came the curt reply. Aryan’s voice was cold and indifferent, barely lifting his gaze from the papers on his desk. He didn’t seem interested in yet another candidate walking into his office.
As Priya stepped into the room, she closed the door quietly behind her, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor. She walked towards the desk with deliberate steps, each one a battle to suppress her nerves.
Aryan finally looked up, intending to deliver his usual impersonal scrutiny. But the moment their eyes met, the world seemed to tilt off its axis. Time froze as recognition dawned on both of their faces.
“You?” they exclaimed in unison, their voices a mix of shock, disbelief, and something deeper like an unspoken history that refused to be ignored.
Priya’s breath caught in her throat, her carefully constructed composure threatening to crumble. Aryan’s expression hardened, his initial surprise giving way to something colder, sharper. For a moment, neither of them moved, the weight of their shared past hanging heavily in the air.
❁𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑❁
❀𝕴𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖎𝖙!❀
♡ 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎, 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎 ♡
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