Episode 1: The Proposal Clause

The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the corridors of Rathore & Associates, mingling with the usual Monday chaos. Associates scurried from cubicle to cubicle, files tucked under their arms, and the sharp click of heels echoed across polished floors. But Naina Kapoor moved like a tornado with too many files and not enough grace.

She burst into her best friend Sana’s cabin, her hair slightly windblown, and coffee in one hand, “Why is every Monday a personally directed attack?”

Sana, a junior associate with the sass of a queen and the instincts of a bloodhound, barely looked up from her screen. “Because you’re still in love with Mr. Broody-Boss and refuse to confess. That's karmic punishment.”

Naina narrowed her eyes. “It’s not love. It’s... complicated admiration.”

“For three years?” Sana quirked an eyebrow.

Naina huffed, straightened her blazer, and marched toward Aarav Singh Rathore’s office — her boss, her secret crush, and the walking embodiment of professionalism and ice.

The door to his cabin was slightly ajar. Aarav sat at his desk, crisp in a black suit, sleeves rolled to his elbows, and expression buried in case files. His perfectly sharp jaw ticked once as he glanced at the time.

“You’re late,” he said without looking up.

“I’m early for tomorrow,” Naina offered with a sheepish grin, placing his usual black coffee on the desk. “Two sugars, no cream, and definitely no joy.”

His eyes finally met hers, those unreadable storm-grey depths that always made her forget entire law lectures. “Sit. I need to talk to you.”

That was new. Naina blinked, her heartbeat skipping erratically. She slid into the chair across from him, trying to remain composed.

“It’s not about work,” Aarav said, voice lower than usual. “It’s… personal.”

The universe paused. Sana would have fainted on the spot. Naina swallowed.

“I’m listening.”

He leaned back, his fingers lacing together. “I’m applying for sole custody of my niece, Mishti. My late sister’s daughter.”

Naina’s chest tightened. “I didn’t know… I’m sorry.”

“She’s five. Bright, curious. And currently with my parents who are… not the most stable guardians,” he said with uncharacteristic softness. “The court needs to see she’ll have a loving, stable home. They want emotional support. Marriage. A family unit.”

The penny dropped. Naina’s eyes widened.

“I need a fiancée,” he said bluntly. “Just until the hearing is over.”

“Wait, are you asking me to—?”

“Yes. You’re the only one Mishti trusts. And I trust you.”

The words felt heavier than the moment allowed. He trusted her. That shouldn’t have made her heart flutter — but it did.

“This is highly unethical,” she said, more to fill the silence than out of protest.

“I’m not asking for forever,” Aarav replied. “Just pretend. Help me win custody.”

She stared at him. The Aarav Rathore — cold, brilliant, untouchable — was asking her to play his fiancée. A fake relationship with the man she’d dreamed of secretly loving, in late-night thoughts she never dared voice.

“How long will I have to live with you?” she asked slowly.

“A month. Two, at most. Until the hearing’s final.”

Naina inhaled deeply and stood, pretending to think, though she knew her answer.

“I’ll do it,” she said. “But on one condition.”

Aarav’s brow lifted. “What?”

“Don’t fall in love with me, sir.”

His lips quirked — a half-smile, barely there — but his eyes lingered on her longer than they should have.

“I won’t,” he said. “And don’t expect me to believe you won’t either.”

Later that evening, Naina stood at the doorstep of Aarav’s upscale apartment, suitcase in hand, heart thudding in her chest. Before she could knock, the door swung open, and a small figure crashed into her legs.

“Nainaaaa!” squealed Mishti, latching onto her. “Uncle said you’re coming to stay! Are you really gonna be my fake Mummy?”

Naina knelt to hug her, laughing. “Only if you promise to be my real princess.”

Mishti’s eyes lit up. “Deal!”

Aarav appeared behind her, watching the scene quietly, his features softer than she’d ever seen them.

“She’s been waiting at the door for an hour,” he said.

“She’s adorable,” Naina replied, standing. “How do you survive her cuteness every day?”

“I don’t,” he admitted. “She wins every argument.”

As Naina stepped inside, her world shifted. Everything felt surreal — the soft lighting, the scent of warm vanilla and coffee, and the quiet hum of something domestic. Something… almost like a family.

She unpacked in the guest room, smiling to herself as Mishti peeked in every five minutes to offer stuffed toys for “decoration.” Aarav leaned in from the hallway, arms crossed.

“She’s already attached to you,” he said.

“And you’re okay with that?”

“I’m counting on it.”

Their eyes met. Something unspoken passed between them — a pulse of connection, fragile but real. Neither spoke it aloud, but for the first time, the line between pretending and possibility… blurred.

End of Episode 1

💌 Emotional Note:

Sometimes, the most powerful beginnings are hidden in the softest agreements. 💍

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