The below and chapters after have been rewritten, thus meaning that minor and major changes have been made. Please also be aware that the book cover has been edited.

If you do not read from the start you won't understand the story, there will be similarities, but also differences, but I promise this version is better. I look forward to hearing your views.

~Rhea

Prologue~

"Aaj, aaj ek hasi aur baant lo, aaj ek dua aur maang lo, aj ek ansoon aur pe lo, aaj ek zindagi aur je lo, aaj ek sapna aur dekh lo, aaj, kya pata, kal ho na ho".

A small woman clenched her fingers around the arm of the sofa, a quiet sniffle the only other sound in the room as her chocolate orbs watered.

Now, it probably wasn't the best idea to take life advice from a character in a film, but Sharukh Khan delivered dialogues that stabbed you straight in the heart and try as she might, she couldn't just skip over the importance of his words. Life was short and tomorrow was never promised for anyone, so it was important to live each day like it was your last; laugh, pray, cry, live, dream, and just be undeniably you.

"You are such a wet wipe" At the ripe age of seventeen, his insults hadn't hit puberty and grown into something better as he had.

Actually, she took that back.

Narrowing her eyes in his direction, she noted how puberty hadn't bettered him at all, she was sure she'd eaten a chicken wing last night that had bones thicker than his arms. Snorting to herself, she bit her tongue to avoid saying it aloud, no, she'd save that one for another time.

"Aman" she paused, sighing at the immense amount of brain strength it took to converse with her younger brother- and yes, before you ask, he had been named after Shahrukh Khan's character in Kal Ho Na Ho, if you're a fan, you fangirl properly and her mother was the ultimate fangirl, always one tequila shot away from getting his name tattooed on her bare skin.

"Zoya" he mimicked, throwing himself onto the sofa beside her.

If she rolled her eyes back any more, she worried her eyes would get stuck, but that's just how life was when you lived with an irritable version of the male species, that mixed with the PTSD trigger she received every time she walked into world war three by just inching a toe into his bedroom. "I have an interview in an hour, you gonna be alright?"

He gasped loudly, hands smacking onto his cheeks and tugging his face down so he looked like a goldfish "An hour? How will I ever survive?"

Her eyes narrowed again, inwardly thankful that the wind hadn't changed enough to make her eyes stuck like that.  "I was wondering the exact same thing" she shoved at his shoulder and jumped up. "That's why I called Anjali round" she awaited the very over-exaggerated moan of disapproval.

"Zoyaaa, why Anjali? I'm seventeen, and I can handle being alone for a few hours". Alright, so maybe the last three times he'd been left alone he'd burnt the kitchen ceiling, used his chemical kit to make an explosion that looked really cool but made the apartment smell like rotten eggs for weeks and accidentally turned the freezer off so all the food defrosted, but he was nearly an adult and this went against all his rights. He was a second away from fluttering his eyelashes and telling her how beautiful she looked when she spun on her heel and gave him a death stare.

"Aman, I don't want to hear it" Zoya raised her hand to halt another one of his devious explanations. "Anjali is looking after you, when you act like an adult, I will trust you like an adult".

Aman guffawed, arms crossed over his chest. He'd already listed out the pros and cons of calling the child protective services, but of course, the risk of losing out on Zoya's diabetic doughnut recipe shut that idea right down, so he was really left with one alternative- relying on facts; "But you don't act like an adult".

Her brow raised "Aman, we will settle this later, the proper way".

"With a mature discussion?" Anjali tightened her hair in the hairband and then placed her car keys on the table. "Door was open, so I let myself in".

"Hey," Zoya wrapped an arm around her, lips kissing her cheek. "Thanks for doing this, I appreciate the help" she waved, then eyed her brother, "Be good for Anjali, we'll sort our disputes out later, just get the water guns ready for when I'm home" winking, she ruffled his hair, grabbed her stuff then raced towards the train station.

+ + +

Upon arriving outside the building, Zoya was sure death was on its way- her hair was drenched and by the small amount of her reflection she could make out in the stony grey windows, mascara had made a trail down her cheeks, in simple terms, she looked like one of those women from those romanticised depression Tumblr posts.

"Hooda Industrials" she whispered, eyes running over the words that seemed brighter than the building, but still very daunting. It was a very real possibility that she'd been watching far too many Final Destination films, but she was sure those letters were about to fall and crush her skull, shuddering at the thought, she headed inside, ran her sleeves over her cheeks and hoped that looks did not count in this interview, because the job specification didn't ask for you to dress up in your best Halloween outfit and no one ever won any brownie points for standing out.

Cringing at the way her damp feet squelched against the royal blue carpets that led towards the lifts, she almost screamed when she came face to face with her own face, she looked hideous, and not in the girlish 'oh, I look so ugly' way that many people usually did, she did look like a nightmare and the likelihood of her interviewee having a heart attack was becoming even more likely with each splish, splash, splosh. Hoping to make a very quick escape, she ducked her head and ran like nobody's business to the sliding doors.

But of course, she had been caught. Zoya had never been made for a life of crime.

"Excuse me, you can't just go in there without a pass" a very squeaky voice yelled.

When she finally turned around, she realised the amount of blush the receptionist wore did her no favours, she looked and sounded like a trampled Barbie doll, well at least she wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb, it seemed all staff liked to play dress up, the women were all barbie dolls, the men were all Kens, and she... the grudge.

"My name is Zoya, I'm here for the second part of my interview" Tapping her feet as she waited, she pulled a face when water splashed upwards onto the woman's face as she held out the pass. "Ooh, free shower, can't turn that down" Before she could make any more blunders, she hurried into the lift and hoped the doors would close quickly.

But, no. Instead, a hand slipped between the sliding doors and in stepped a real-life adonis, and lord was he BUILT! He wore a suede blazer that clenched around his biceps whenever he turned a page in his file, he was yet to look her way- thankfully- so she couldn't see his eyes, but his jaw was razor-sharp and the stubble on his cheeks accentuated his handsomeness.

Deciding not to openly make googly eyes at him and face getting arrested for being a pervert, Zoya focused on the white marble walls and wrapped her fingers around the golden handrail that sat just below the buttons. "Eek," she squealed when he stepped before her and placed his fingers over a button.

The man stood taller, a quizzical expression on his face and his brow raised, then he flinched "That an uh new trend?" He circled his face with his index finger.

Liars never got anywhere had been a life lesson she taught her younger brother, but certain circumstances required lies, this wasn't one of them, but she was going to lie either way. "Yes, you'd think being a member of staff in this posh building that you'd know that" she spoke in a very British voice, nose pointed upwards and her posture stiff. She had no real idea what her aim was by trying to personify the Queen, but hey, what was done, was done.

Turning his head to the side, he ran a hand down his face, opened his mouth to speak, then decided against it. The woman was crazy, he couldn't risk ruining his reputation by associating with her.

"Ohh, I've offended you" she smacked her head, "Of course, you don't work here, you're here for an interview too, right?" She spoke far too quickly for him to even have time to respond. "I mean, I doubt the big boss would allow you to wear those horrid things" She gestured to his yellow shoes, that's right, yellow. Talk about walking on sunshine.

"Did you just" he pinched the brim of his nose, exhaled, and then looked back at her. "Did you just insult my choice of shoes?"

"Yes," Zoya nodded resolutely. "Sorry, are you hard of hearing? Shall I shout? LIKE THIS?"

"Did you just ask me if I'm deaf?" He couldn't believe the cheek of this woman, did she not know when to shut up?

"YES, THAT'S RIGHT" she put two thumbs up and grinned widely. Why did he keep repeating everything she said like a question? Was there a lack of understanding? Perhaps she should make it clearer. Without any real thought, she snatched the file from his hand, held her index finger up to silence his complaint as she wrote out a few words with her lipstick then shoved it back into his chest.

Slowly, he looked down at the paper, then up at her, then down at the paper, then up again. His jaw dropped the entire time until she very kindly leaned over and shut it for him with a warning that he'd catch flies as she did. "You do realise this is the only copy I have of this merger, right? And now it's covered in what I can only assume is raspberry-smelling lipstick".

"I'm not following? More a blueberry guy?"

"No, the flavour isn't the issue, the issue is that you-"

"FLAVOUR?" she exclaimed, interrupting him. "Did you lick it? Ewww".

"What? No" his head shook fast, eyes wide with alarm. "I can just tell the flavour by the scent, I assure you, ma'am, that I have certainly not um" his voice cracked under the pressure of her gaze leaving the rest of his sentence to come out sounding like a cat in labour; "Tasted your lipstick".

"Uh huh" Zoya nodded, disbelief as clear on her face as it was in her reflection. "YOU CAN'T GET PAST ME THAT EASILY".

The all-knowing look on her face was enough to make him almost stumble as he stepped back, if there was one thing he didn't want to know, it was whatever she thought she knew. "You don't have to shout you know, I can hear you" he went to press the button for the floor again, hoping to escape before she would talk again, but the lift jolted, shaking so the two bashed into each other and the only way to prevent a serious injury was for him to pull her flush against him so she wouldn't lose balance.

"You broke the lift" She shoved her heel onto his toe so he would release her.

"Ouch" he grit his teeth, "What was that for? I was helping you stand up".

"Oh no" she shook her head, "I know your type" In one quick movement, she pulled her hairspray from her bag and sprayed it in his direction until he was spluttering and covering his eyes.

"Are you crazy?" He growled, rubbing his eyes fervently and hissing all at once.

"I find that a very insulting insinuation" she crossed her arms, "You thought you could trap us in here and have your way with me, I'm no fool".

"You sure about that?" He spat, angrily.

"Don't be sarcastic, it doesn't suit you, creep". Zoya faced the camera pointing toward them "They have it all on video, so you can say goodbye to the job, there's no way you'll get it, but I will" Her smile was full of glee, only she knew just how badly she needed this job.

"Confident, aren't you? Who says after you attack me that you'll even get the job?" He rested against the wall, blinking through the blurry vision as he did and trying his very best to not rub his almost bleeding eyeballs.

"Of course, I'll get it" She span back to face him, hair whipping his cheek in the process. "That was self-defence, thank you very much, even my hair knows it" She crossed her arms.

"You do realise your hair isn't a sentient thing capable of thought or understanding, right?" To be honest, he wasn't sure why he was trying to reason with her, but it was as if he couldn't quite prevent himself.

"So now you're hairist, I'm sure the boss will have a lot to say about that" Zoya continued to nod as if she had a full understanding of what no other human could ever possibly understand.

"Oh," he nodded, smirking as if he knew something she didn't. "I'm sure he will wait, did you just call me hairist? That's not a thing!"

"Oh, I see, so something isn't an issue unless it's an issue for you, I bet you also think that the fact there are fewer female CEOs in comparison to men is also not a thing, what, because it doesn't impact you, uh huh, sexist too, aren't ya?" She leaned forward, nose an inch from his before rocking on her heels and glaring upwards. "Although, you'd think for a high-class businessman that he'd at least ensure he had top-of-the-facility elevator machinery" she shrugged.

Pursing his lips, he nodded his head from side to side "I'm sure he'd love to hear your thoughts on his poor machinery" This woman was absolutely terrifying, it was best to go along with her craziness rather than face another insult or injury. Somehow, in the space of less than ten minutes; she'd blinded him, accused him of trying to sexually harass her, of hairism which he still believed didn't exist and, to top it all off, sexism, talk about an oncoming lawsuit.

Suddenly, soft piano music began to swim through the elevator, then a robotic voice spoke: "We are sorry for your inconvenience, help will be with you shortly".

"Aw, thanks, robotic Barbie" she pointed upwards, nose scrunched in delight. "Nice, isn't she?"

He was honestly speechless, unable to answer, he looked back at his file only to drop it when a heavy liquid bounced onto it. His eyes darkened, jaw straining "Do you understand what you've just done?"

Chewing her wrap loudly, she tried to swallow quickly, gulping harshly when he stepped over her bag and pinned her to the wall.

"That file was for a business meeting later, the only copy I have as I already pointed out to you earlier" he spoke through gritted teeth, "Now it's ruined" he seethed.

"I'd consider investing in a photocopier, bhai saab, I'm sure there's one around here, not really my fault if you only have one copy of something important, although, I get it, afterall, I am the only copy of the most important person in the world" her smile widened, "Me".

"Do not hit women, do not hit women" he spoke under his breath, repeating it like a mantra. "Not only have you injured my foot and my eyes, but you've also abused my personality by accusing me of trying to molest you, called me deaf, spoke ill of my very expensive shoes, defamed me by accusing me of absolute nonsense, stained an important file and yet, somehow, in all of this, you've found a way to blame me for all of it".

"Yeah?" Zoya gazed up at him, doe brown eyes widening when he growled. "What's your point?"

Smacking his hand against the wall, he turned his back on her and shoved his shaking hands through his hair, he needed to get out of there before he ended up in prison for a murder he would not feel guilty for.

"Ah, having a mental breakdown? I have loads of those".

He wasn't surprised.

"That's for grabbing me, now we're all fair and circle".

"Fair and, what? Don't you mean fair and square?" Alright, just a few minutes then he was out of here, he could stay calm, he'd made a whole business out of staying calm.

Her brow furrowed "No, that doesn't even make sense" Noticing the way his eyes glued to hers, she scrunched her nose up, "You know it's rude to stare, right?"

"You know it's rude to waste food on people and attack them, right?" He retorted this whole experience had made his hair grey, he was sure of it.

"Maybe it's like good luck?" She soothed, "I once heard that if a bird does its business on you, that it is good luck and the food on your file and shirt" Seeing the way he quickly looked down, she realised she probably shouldn't have pointed that out, but, oh well, "Anyway, what I'm saying is you should be thanking me for the good luck, those stains could easily be misconstrued for bird crap".

There was a mechanical whirring sound before the lift began to move again, eventually reaching the top floor, the doors opened slowly showing a lavish area.

Before stepping out, he turned to her "I didn't quite catch your name".

"Zoya, yours?"

"Aditya, Aditya Hooda, but you can call me Sir" he straightened his clothes, "You're late to your interview and I despise people who are late" Then he disappeared as if he'd never been there in the first place.

Her jaw dropped as the doors slid shut once again, too frozen in time to stop them, she slunk back against the bar and held her chest, only one thought in her head; WWSKD?