Nivya Sekhawat

Happy, happy, happy.

I'm beyond ecstatic!

Today, I hold my first ticket to freedom in my hands. My very first job as a junior architect at Rathod Constructions!

It's like I'm floating on air, weightless, the world unfolding before me. A cozy little flat is waiting, and in just six months, I'll be setting off on a solo adventure. The thrill of it all already tastes sweet on my tongue.

It's the beginning of everything I've ever wanted. The future is mine.

As I stepped into the living room, my heart was racing with excitement. "Where's Maa?" I asked the househelp, who was tidying the sofa.

"She went to the Mandir," she answered, without stopping her work.

I can't wait to share this joy with Mumma, Chachi, Revaan, and Nitya. It feels like everything is finally falling into place.

I headed to my room, my excitement bubbling over. I slipped into a vibrant off-shoulder top and wide-legged jeans, my fingers dancing through my makeup routine. Today was all about me—pampering, unwinding, indulging. Spa, shopping, arcade, food. The works.

Slipping on a pair of flats, I added the finishing touch with my golden wristwatch. Grabbing my car keys, I headed downstairs, relieved not to run into anyone from my family. A quick handoff of the car keys to the valet, and I was on my way.

As I settled into the driver's seat, a sense of freedom washed over me. I was off to the arcade, ready to spend the day on a date with the one person who truly deserved it—me.

After winning six plush toys from the crane machine, I couldn't resist handing two of them to the little boy who had been staring at me with big, pleading eyes. The other four? They were all mine.

It was fun, but a part of me longed to share the moment with someone. Ivaan was in another city for work, but he'd be back by evening. Until then, I was on my own.

Next stop: the spa. After a lavish session of body massage, manicure, pedicure, and a facial, I gave myself a brand new look. I chopped off my waist-length hair, leaving it to fall in soft waves around my face. The transformation was complete. I looked gorgeous—too gorgeous, maybe, for a family like the Sekhawats. What a stroke of bad luck, getting stuck with them.

After paying, I headed to the mall, craving something new—formal clothes. Money had never been a problem for me. In fact, it was one thing I'd never been restricted from spending.

What I had been stopped from was wearing what I wanted. I fought tooth and nail just to go on a trip with my friends. But when it came to money? That was never the issue. I could spend half a fortune, and no one would bat an eye.

I pulled over at the bustling street food market, my stomach growling with hunger. At the chaat stall, I eagerly ordered a plate of raj kachori and golgappe, letting the flavors fill me with a comforting sense of indulgence.

Nivya Sekhawat. A name that carried weight, history, and a royal lineage, though none of it mattered in a democratic world. My ancestors had ruled Veerkut for generations, their legacy etched into the city's very soul. But after independence, my great-grandfather had signed away that power, surrendering the reigns to the government.

Still, no matter how the world saw it, the people of Veerkut worshipped my grandfather like a god, and in their eyes, my family and I were royalty.

But me? I hated them. And it wasn't a one-way street; the feeling was mutual.

As a child, I learned quickly the bitter sting of gender disappointment. My grandfather had wanted a son—an heir to his business empire—but I was born instead. Watching my friends bask in their families' love only deepened the resentment I felt toward my own. And as the years went on, so did the restrictions. The darker side of my family emerged, and my quiet resentment festered into something much stronger—hatred.

I had to fight for everything. I had to curse my grandfather just to let me study architecture.

Buildings had fascinated me since childhood. The thought of creating something as immense as a skyscraper, reaching for the sky with nothing but bricks and steel, filled me with awe. Architecture wasn't just a career—it was my calling. But to my grandfather, it was a man's field. He wanted me to choose something "suitable" for a woman: maybe designing or, becoming a gynecologist.

He made it clear—he wouldn't pay my fees for architecture. So, I found a scholarship and pursued it on my own. When he found out, he was livid, feeling insulted by my independence. In the end, he caved in and paid for it, but it was a hollow victory.

This was the family I was born into—a perfect example of patriarchy at its finest.

If there's one person I despise more than my grandfather, it's my father.

He knew how to have children, but couldn't stand up for them. He knew how to make my mother pregnant, but couldn't protect his own kids from the toxicity of this family. Men like him shouldn't be allowed to have children if they're just going to hand over the reins of their children's lives to someone else.

After paying the vendor, I slid into my car, my mind made up to head to my favorite restaurant.

I cranked up some quirky Bollywood tunes, driving with a smile plastered across my face.

If there's anything I love as much as architecture, it's driving. There's just something about it. Maybe it's the freedom it gives me, the feeling of being untethered and in control. It's the escape I've always longed for—the kind of freedom I crave but can never fully reach.

I parked my car and walked through the massive glass door into the restaurant, heading straight for the rooftop. The clear sky stretched out above me, serene and vast. I ordered pao bhaji and lemon tea, then pulled out my phone to text Revaan, asking if he wanted the same. He replied almost instantly, his answer a cheerful "Yes!" that made me chuckle.

My little brother, Revaan—five years younger than me—has always been my rock. When he stands by my side, I feel a sense of security I never got from my father. He's honestly the best thing to happen to me.

I looked around, sensing someone's gaze on me. My blue-green eyes met a pair of warm brown ones. But the warmth I expected wasn't there. Instead, his eyes were cold, calculating.

Nirvaan Singh Rathod. The oldest son of the Rathods, another royal family heir from the nearby town, and the older brother of my best friend, Ivaan. I'd known him my entire life, yet I didn't really know him at all.

And damn, he was handsome. No, more than handsome. He was otherworldly. If you placed him next to any celebrity, they'd look like amateurs. Tall, clean-shaven, with perfect eyebrows, an arched nose, and sculpted features that seemed to belong in a museum. His lips—plump, pink, and tempting.

I couldn't deny it. If only he was as warm as his appearance, I'd be a puddle in his hands.

I mean, you couldn't blame me. A face like that? He had to be God's favorite creation. I bet even God took a break after making someone like him.

Realizing I'd been staring at him a little too long, I quickly looked away, my face and ears heating up with embarrassment. It's not like I'm shy or anything. And I definitely wasn't some creep who went around ogling good-looking people. But honestly, Nirvaan was extremely handsome. I couldn't help it. I remembered how more than half of my senior high school classmates had fallen head over heels for him.

Girls went wild for him back then, but strangely, there wasn't a single rumor about him. He'd joined the business world early, finishing his studies while investing in the family empire at the same time.

But whatever. Today is about me. I wasn't about to waste my time daydreaming about someone like him—a waste of beauty, really.

When my pao bhaji finally arrived, I decided to go all out. I ordered a red sauce pasta and asked them to pack some extra pao bhaji, along with manchurian and noodles. My brother absolutely loved Indo-Chinese food; it was his favorite.

My eyes couldn't resist drifting back to the creation of God—Nirvaan, who was speaking to a group in front of him. I couldn't help but be surprised that he was here. This place didn't exactly offer private rooms, but the food? Oh, it was divine. I remembered hearing that it was owned by Virat Gadodia, Atharva's aunt's father.

The people in front of him were clearly foreigners, yet Nirvaan managed to completely overshadow them, not just with his striking looks but with the commanding presence he exuded. He was magnetic, impossible to ignore.

As soon as my order arrived, I paid the bill, grabbed the paper bag, and stood up to leave. But then, I felt it—those intense brown eyes on me again. I turned, meeting his gaze. And for the first time, it wasn't just a passing glance. He was looking at me—really looking at me—piercing right through my soul.

I froze. The man had never given me a second glance before, but now, he was staring at me like I was the only person in the room. For what felt like an eternity, his gaze didn't waver. Ten seconds, maybe more. I couldn't decide if he was sizing me up for something... or if I was just looking way too good today.

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest, and quickly turned toward the exit. I wasn't about to stick around any longer, especially not with the weight of his gaze still lingering on me.

I rushed down the stairs, my steps quick and purposeful, as if I could outrun the unsettling feeling his stare had left behind. My mind raced—what the hell was that? Why did it feel like everything had shifted in those few seconds?

I slid into my car, placing the paper bag beside me. As I drove home, my mind kept replaying Nirvaan, but I pushed it aside—no point in dwelling on it.

When I reached the house, I knew better than to enter through the main door. My bade dadaji would have a fit if he saw me coming in late—7 o'clock was practically considered a scandal. So, I made my way to the back entrance, careful to stay out of sight. I wasn't in the mood for a confrontation.

I slipped through the back door, making sure no one caught sight of me, and headed straight to Revaan's room.

Our house—well, castle—was more like something out of a period drama, but with a modern twist. Revaan's room was the most secluded, practically a fortress within the fortress. It was so tucked away, you could be dying on the floor and no one would know until someone hit the telecom.

I knocked loudly on his door, and within seconds, it swung open. Revaan snatched the paper bag from my hand before I could even speak.

"Thanks for the food," he muttered, already inspecting the contents. Nitya was perched on the bed, a plate of cutlery in hand, looking ready for a feast. I couldn't help but chuckle at her eager expression.

I grabbed a small plate for myself as Revaan expertly divided the pao bhaji into two parts, then separated the manchurian and noodles into three portions. It was our little ritual—food and family, even if it was just the three of us.

"I've got good news!" I said, swirling a manchurian ball into my noodles, then looking up at my little siblings. Both of them paused mid-bite, their eyes locking on me with eager anticipation.

"You finally have a boyfriend?" Revaan teased, raising an eyebrow. "If Bade Dadaji finds out, he'll lock you in his personal jail, and the poor guy will get punished like it's the 16th century." His playful tone only made me more annoyed, and I smacked him on the shoulder, shooting him a glare.

"Guess again." I grinned, then made the grand announcement. "I've been selected to work as a junior architect under Rathod Constructions!" I couldn't help but beam with pride, and the excitement was contagious. Both of them put their plates down and jumped on me, celebrating with loud cheers.

"I'm so happy for you!" Revaan said, his voice softer now, pulling me into a hug and pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. I smiled back at him, feeling a warmth I didn't even realize I needed.

"Mumma ko bataya?" he asked, his voice still holding that quiet concern. {Have you told Mom?}

I shook my head. "Not yet. I'll tell her and Chachi after dinner."

We went back to our food, and I picked my plate up again, diving into the deliciousness. The next hour was a blur of video games, laughter, and the sound of Nitya scribbling away with her homework.

Then, a soft knock interrupted us, signaling that dinner was ready.

Revaan tossed me one of his hoodies, and I slipped it on without hesitation, grateful for the extra layer. If my pyaare Bade Dadaji saw me in this off-shoulder top, it wouldn't just be dinner—it would be an all-out war zone between us.

If only I had known, the dinner would turn into an all-out war zone anyway—just not in the way I expected.

As we made our way to the dining room, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to go sideways. Little did I know, the shocking news I was about to hear would flip everything on its head.

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Meet my new female lead, four times ahead Yashvi and completely opposite to her in nature. You are going to love her, then hate her and love her again.

Do follow my instagram account blossom.springs_  for spoilers.

Thankyou<3