The following day, Aarohi found herself in her favorite bookstore cafe, tucked into a corner by the window, a book open in front of her. The soft glow of yellow lights stretched lazily over the wooden shelves, casting gentle shadows over books that smelled of nostalgia and quiet adventures. The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air, wrapping around her like a familiar comfort. She turned a page of her book, her mind slipping further into the world within its pages. A soft music hummed softly through the air, its melody weaving through the rustle of pages and the occasional clink of a spoon against cups.
She had often been here, tucked into her usual corner by the window, where the golden sunlight filtered in just right, warming the pages of whatever book she was lost in. The scent of coffee and old books wrapped around her like a familiar embrace, soothing in a way nothing else could be.
As Aarohi let out a slow breath, easing back into her chair, she turned the final page of her book, a satisfied smile lingered on her face.
She glanced at the time and sighed. It was probably time to head back. Stretching slightly, she picked up her bag, tucked the book inside, and made her way toward the exit. Just as she stepped past the shelves near the door, she collided into someone.
A surprised gasp escaped her lips as she stumbled back, her hands instinctively reaching out to steady herself. The impact sent her coffee cup—thankfully empty—clattering to the floor. The books spilled out of her bag, tumbling onto the floor.
She glared at the figure that collided with her, not before arranging the most precious assets of her life—her books.
"Whoa, careful!" a deep, steady voice said.
But as she stood up and faced him, his world went blank.
He had lost all sense of his surroundings. The moment his eyes met hers, the world around him blurred into insignificance. She was breathtaking—her deep, expressive eyes burning with frustration, her lips pressed together in an adorable scowl. The way her hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders, the way her presence seemed to demand attention without even trying—it was as if time had slowed just for him.
On the other hand, irritation flickered across Aarohi's face. The moment her eyes landed on him, she recognised the figure she had collided with.
Aditya Rajvansh.
She had seen his face before, in several magazines and newspapers. He was the son of a well reputed businessman—Vikram Rajvansh.
To the world, Vikram Rajvansh was a highly reputed businessman, someone who carried the weight of a clean and polished legacy. But Aarohi knew better. Behind that effortless charm and striking presence, he was involved in things far murkier—business dealings that thrived in shadows, transactions that never made it to paper and a series of illegal businesses.
Vikram was once her father's business partner but the day he came to know about his fowl acts, he had cut all business as well as personal ties with Vikram. And now, of all people, she had to collide with his son.
Aditya, meanwhile, was still lost in her. He had barely registered her frustration—he was too busy memorizing the way her brows furrowed, the way her eyes, sharp and knowing, seemed to pierce right through him. There was something different about her, something that told him she wasn't just another girl caught off guard by his presence.
Aarohi's sharp glare didn't waver. "What? Cat got your tongue?" she snapped, crossing her arms. But Aditya remained silent, his gaze unwavering.
His friends, standing just a few steps behind him, exchanged glances before one of them finally stepped forward. He raised a finger at Aarohi, his voice laced with warning "You don't know who you're talking to. Do you even realize whose son he is?"
Aarohi let out a dry laugh, tilting her head. "Oh, I know exactly whose son he is," she shot back, her voice dripping with cold certainty. "The great Vikram Rajvansh—the man who wears a spotless reputation like a mask while running half a dozen illegal businesses behind the scenes. Smuggling, extortion, political payoffs. He hides behind wealth and power, thinking no one knows the truth."
A tense silence fell over them. The air around them thickened, but Aarohi didn't flinch. She wasn't afraid.
Aditya's friends tensed at her words, ready to lash out, but Aditya? He just stood there, completely still. Not because he was guilty, not because he wanted to defend his father—but because he had spent his entire life hating that man, resenting the shadow his father's name cast over him.
He clenched his jaw, his fingers curling into fists. He wanted to tell her she was right. That he despised his father more than she could ever imagine. That he had spent his life trying to carve out an identity separate from Vikram Rajvansh. But no words left his mouth.
Aarohi scoffed at his silence. "Nothing to say?" she muttered, shaking her head in disappointment.
And with that, she turned on her heels and walked away.
Aditya watched her go, his heart pounding in a way he couldn't understand. He had been insulted before, accused, judged—but this felt different. He had never sat to explain anyone that he dislikes his father's ill businesses and was not a part of them. He remained unaffected by the fingers that had raised upon him for his father because he had decided to carve out his own identity as a true and loyal business. But for the first time, he wished she knew the truth. That he never worshiped him like sons did their father. That he had been fighting this battle all alone, his whole life.
But she was already gone. And somehow, that bothered him more than it should have.
******************************************
The next day Aarohi stepped into the college campus, her mind still replaying yesterday's unexpected encounter. She hadn't told Kiara, Kaashvi, or even Aadhya about it yet—mostly because she knew exactly how they would react. And honestly, she wasn't in the mood for their theatrics.
Kiara, Kaashvi, and Aadhya were already waiting for her in their usual spot. Unlike their usual excited chatter, their expressions were more neutral, almost serious.
Kiara was the first to speak. "Aarohi, we have a problem."
Aarohi raised an eyebrow. "What now?"
Kaashvi crossed her arms. "Aditya Rajvansh. He's enrolled in our college."
Aarohi froze for half a second before quickly masking her reaction. "So?" she said, feigning indifference.
Aadhya observed her carefully. "We know you don't like him or his family. We don't either. But it's better to be cautious."
Aarohi simply nodded, not trusting herself to say anything more.
Before the conversation could continue, a shift in the air made it clear that someone had caught the attention of the students around them.
Aditya Rajvansh had arrived.
His navy-blue shirt fit him perfectly, sleeves rolled up just enough to appear effortlessly stylish. Paired with black jeans, he carried himself with the kind of casual confidence that naturally commanded attention.
And yet, there was something playful in his demeanor, like he knew exactly how people reacted to him but didn't take it too seriously.
His dark eyes scanned the crowd before landing directly on Aarohi.
As he made his way toward them, Kiara muttered, "Oh hell no. He better not—"
Before she could complete, Aditya stopped just a few steps away, his signature teasing smile already in place. "Ms. Aarohi Mathur, can we talk? Privately?"
"Jo bolna hai, yahin bolo," Kiara stated firmly.
Kaashvi nodded "Haan, yeh tumse akele baat nahi karna chahti."
Aditya smirked. He looked towards her and spoke "Ye tumhe bodyguards ki zaroorat kabse padne lagi? Kal toh akele bina dare sabke saamne itna kuch suna ke chali gayi"
Kiara raised an eyebrow in confusion "Kal?"
Aarohi instantly spoke to shift the topic. "What do you want Aditya?"
His eyes sparkled with mischief "Just to thank you."
Aarohi frowned "Thank me? For what?"
He tilted his head slightly, the playful smirk still in place. "You were lucky for me."
Her frown deepened "Excuse me?"
Aditya chuckled lightly, as if thoroughly enjoying her confusion. "Actually last year, I couldn't get admission to this college. It was my dream college, but somehow, something always went wrong. Yesterday, immediately after you bumped into me at the bookstore, I got the message that I was finally enrolled."
Silence.
Kiara, Kaashvi, and even Aadhya turned to stare at Aarohi in pure disbelief.
Aarohi, on the other hand, blinked at him, clearly unimpressed. "And?"
Aditya leaned in just slightly, his voice dropping a playful octave. "And... I'm just saying, if you ever decide to wish me luck again, just bump into me."
Kiara gasped dramatically "WAIT. What's going on? How do you know that she went to the bookstore yesterday?"
Aditya let out a chuckle "Dikhne mai toh samajhdar lag rahi ho par baaton se lag raha hain ki abhi abhi mansik santulan kho gaya hai. Bola na, she bumped into me yesterday at the bookstore."
Kaashvi's jaw dropped. "Aarohi, what the hell?! TUMNE HUME KUCH BATAYA BHI NAHI?!"
Aadhya raised an eyebrow, her expression composed but definitely intrigued.
Aarohi groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "It wasn't a big deal, okay? It was just an accident."
Aditya tilted his head and shot Aarohi a teasing look. "Accident?" he repeated, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Tumne toh aise takraaya jaise koi old Bollywood heroine ho jo bas mere baahon mein girne se ek second door thi."
Aarohi's glare could've set him on fire. "Oh please, the only accident was me not seeing you standing there like a misplaced furniture piece."
Aditya placed a hand over his heart, pretending to be hurt. "Ouch. Furniture? At least say something elegant like...... a Greek statue?"
He shot her a wink.
Aarohi clearly uninterested retorted "Yaha pe hum koi lame jokes of the year ka audition nahi le rahe rahe. So you can leave."
Aditya snapped back "Chala toh jaunga but I genuinely wanted to have a word with you privately. If you ever want to talk, you can. I won't force you." He gave a polite smile to her and turned to leave, but not before turning to her one last time.
"Remember one thing. I'm not like my father" he spoke honesty flashing in his eyes and left.
Aarohi groaned, rubbing her temples.
******************************************
The classroom buzzed with idle chatter as students settled into their seats. Aarohi slid into her usual spot near the window, with Kiara and Kaashvi flanking her on either side. Aadhya, as usual, took the seat right in front of her, calmly organizing her notes.
For a moment, it felt like a normal day. That was until Aadhya, predictably the sensible one, broke the silence.
"You know..." she began, turning slightly to face Aarohi, "...I still think you should at least have a conversation with Aditya."
Aarohi sighed, leaning back in her chair. "Aadhya, seriously?"
Kiara, without missing a beat, slammed her notebook on the desk. "HAW! Tujhe lagta hai ki humari Aaru ko usse BAAT karni chahiye?" She gasped like Aadhya had suggested something criminal. "Ek Rajvansh se?"
Kaashvi nodded vigorously, adding fuel to the fire. "Aur woh bhi Aditya Rajvansh! Aaj woh thank you bol raha hai, par ye uska plan bhi toh ho sakta hai isse kidnap karne ka" she lowered her voice for dramatic effect.
Aadhya rolled her eyes "Aur isse kidnap karke usse kya milega?"
Kiara jumped in dramatically "Kidnap nahi khun karke, shanti milega usko. Afterall Aaru ne usko insult kiya hai cafe mein sabke saamne."
Aadhya shook her head with a soft smile. "Come on, guys. Maybe he's different. Not like his father."
Aarohi snorted "Aadhya, Woh chahe jo bhi ho, end of the day... he's a Rajvansh. Hamare khoon mein jaise haemoglobin hota, Rajvansh's ke khoon mein waise hi gaddari hoti hai."
Aadhya tried to defend "Par Aaru—"
Aarohi cut her off mid sentence "No more discussion on this topic. I don't want to talk to him."
The chatter died down instantly as their professor, Mr. Mehta, stepped inside, his sharp gaze sweeping over the room.
******************************************
[ Aditya's POV ]
I tried to study—I really did. But no matter how much I tried to focus, her face wouldn't leave my mind.
I leaned back in my chair, tapping my pen against the open book in frustration. She was different. Not because of how she looked, though I'd be lying if I said she wasn't beautiful—but because of the way she looked at me. With suspicion. Judgment. Like she had already decided I was exactly like my father.
It shouldn't bother me. I'm used to people making assumptions. Most either feared me or fawned over me—but Aarohi? She stood there yesterday, firing accusations without the slightest hint of hesitation. And the worst part? I couldn't even be mad at her. Not when she was right to hate him.
I shook my head, pushing the thoughts aside. Why do I even care what she thinks? But somehow, I did. More than I wanted to admit.
I was lost in my thoughts when I heard a voice "Kya soch raha hai beta?"
"Aarohi...." I blurted without thinking and instantly regreted as I saw my mother standing beside me with a cup of coffee.
"Maa aap yaha?" I asked.
"Ha bohot der se dekh rahi thi tu concetrate nahi kar pa raha tha, toh socha tere liye coffee bana lau. Par lagta nahi ye coffee kuch kaam aane wala hai" Her voice was too light but a little tease.
I rubbed the back of my neck with one hand, awkwardly.
Maa kept the cup on my study table, pulled a chair beside me and asked "Acha ab bata, kon hai ye Aarohi?"
I groaned, leaning back further. "Bas ek ladki hai, Maa. Tum itna mat socho."
Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she folded her arms. "Ek ladki? Phir toh bata, kaun hai yeh jo meri padhaaku bete ke dimaag mein ghus gayi?"
I exhaled, knowing there was no escape now. "Uska naam Aarohi Mathur hai," I admitted, shaking my head at how easily the words rolled off my tongue. "Aur woh thodi alag hai."
Maa tilted her head, the teasing edge fading just a bit. "Kaisi alag?"
I rubbed the back of my neck, struggling to explain what even I hadn't fully figured out. "Woh mujhse bilkul impress nahi hai." I let out a small laugh. "Infact, usse toh main pasand bhi nahi hoon."
That got her attention. "Aur tumhein yehi pasand aa gaya?"
I sighed and leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. "Woh straightforward hai. Mujhse bina kisi dar ke baat karti hai—aur sabse badi baat, usko farak nahi padta ki main kaun hoon." I hesitated for a beat before adding quietly, "Actually, uska maanna hai ki main bilkul Vikram Rajvansh ki tarah hoon."
That softened the teasing glint in Maa's eyes. She knew exactly how much I hated that comparison—how hard I had fought to be anything but him.
"Tu jaanta hai na, Adi..." she said gently, "Ki tu apne Papa ki tarah bilkul bhi nahi hai."
I swallowed the knot in my throat, nodding slightly. "Main jaanta hoon, Maa." But just because I knew it didn't mean the world did. And now... neither did she.
There was a pause before her voice filled the silence again, warmer this time. "Aur yeh Aarohi Mathur... kya wo bhi yeh jaane ki koshish karne wali hai?"
I laughed under my breath, shaking my head. "Mujhe nahi lagta ki use meri sachchai se koi matlab hai."
Maa smiled knowingly, that motherly wisdom slipping through her words. "Phir toh tujhe yeh sabit karna padega ki tu sirf apne Papa ka beta nahi hai, tu apna alag wajood hai."
I let out a breath, nodding. I had spent years proving that to the world. But for some reason, proving it to Aarohi felt different. More important.
Maa stood up, smoothing the wrinkles from her saree before turning back to me. "Bas ek baat yaad rakhna, Aditya." Her voice was gentle, but there was a strength behind it. "Jitna tu apne Papa se alag hai, utna hi tu apne faisle mein azaad hai. Agar tu us ladki ko apne bare mein sahi baatein dikhana chahta hai... toh tu kar sakta hai."
I smiled faintly, her words settling something restless inside me. "Thanks, Maa."
She turned to leave, but not before throwing one last teasing glance over her shoulder. "Aur haan, Aarohi se milte waqt padhai mat bhool jaana."
I laughed softly, shaking my head as the door closed behind her. But as much as I tried to push it away, one thought refused to leave me.
Aarohi Mathur thought I was just like him—but I wasn't. And maybe... just maybe... it was time she realized that too.
But how? She wasn't even ready to talk to me.
And those overprotective friends of hers? They practically formed a human shield around her every time.
I leaned back in my chair, frustrated, tapping my pen restlessly against the desk. A sudden thought rushed into my mind.
Love at first sight—yeh sach mein hota hai kya?
I've never bought into that filmy nonsense. One look and—boom—your heart starts dancing to background music? Not my thing.
But ever since I bumped into her at that bookstore, it's like she's been living rent-free in my head. She walks right up, points fingers, and tells me exactly what she thinks. There's something about her, something real. She's not trying to impress anyone. She's not scared. And when she looks at me, it's not with fake admiration or fear. It's with pure, unfiltered judgment. And weirdly? I kind of like it.
Most people want to know me because of who my father is. But Aarohi? She wants to stay as far away from me as possible because of him.
But this—whatever this is, it can't be love.
Love?
Come on. I'm not that guy.
This is just curiosity.
Just... fascination.
Right?
I shake my head, dragging a hand through my hair. "Filmon mein hota hoga yeh sab," I mutter to myself. "Mere saath nahi."
Still, no matter how much I try to convince myself, the truth lingers in the back of my mind—unspoken but impossible to ignore.
******************************************
[ Author's POV ]
The soft hum of the air conditioner filled Aarohi's room as the golden evening light cast warm streaks across the walls. Kiara, Kaashvi, and Aadhya lounged comfortably around her—an open bag of chips on the bed, half-forgotten books scattered across the floor. Their conversation had drifted from their upcoming assignments to random college gossip, laughter echoing now and then.
"I swear," Kaashvi huffed, tossing a cushion in the air, "If I see one more Economics assignment, I might just drop out."
Kiara snickered. "Please. You won't even survive a week without the drama college gives you."
Aarohi shook her head, a faint smile playing on her lips as she stretched out on the bed. But before anyone could respond, a sharp knock on the door cut through their lighthearted conversation.
The door swung open to reveal Mr. Anirudh Mathur, Aarohi's father, his tall frame filling the doorway.
His sharp gaze settled on Aarohi. "I heard Aditya Rajvansh has joined your college," he said, his tone calm but cold, each word laced with underlying tension.
The name Rajvansh dropped like a weight in the air. Aarohi's relaxed posture stiffened immediately, while her friends exchanged uneasy glances.
Aarohi sat up straighter. "Yes, Papa," she replied, keeping her voice neutral. "I found out today."
Anirudh's jaw tightened. "Stay away from him," he said curtly. "I don't want you anywhere near a Rajvansh."
Aarohi clenched her jaw, frustration flickering beneath the surface. "Papa, woh sirf ek student hai," she said, her tone firmer than before. "Main usse baat bhi nahi karti."
Anirudh nodded. "Good. Make sure it stays that way," he said finally, before turning and walking out without another word.
For a moment, no one spoke—until Kaashvi let out a long breath. "Well... that was intense."
Kiara shook her head, her expression serious. "Aur hona bhi tha. Aarohi, tu seriously usse door hi rehna."
Aadhya, always the composed one, spoke carefully. "Aditya ho sakta hai alag ho, but your father isn't wrong to be cautious."
Aarohi exhaled slowly, her fingers curling into the bedsheet. "I know," she admitted quietly. "But I'm not interested in him—or anyone from his family."
"Better be," Kaashvi quipped, though the concern lingered in her tone.
Aarohi nodded absently, but something about the conversation nagged at her. Despite everything she knew about Aditya's family, her thoughts drifted—not to Vikram Rajvansh, but to the boy with the teasing smile who had thanked her like she was his good luck.
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