Chapter 1 - The Return

Adhya's POV

India smelled like home—warm, spicy, and familiar.

The moment I stepped out of the airport, a humid breeze wrapped around me, carrying the scent of wet earth and something nostalgic. After four years in New York, where the air was crisp and the people distant, stepping onto Indian soil felt overwhelming yet comforting.

Then I spotted him.

Aarav Chauhan—my overprotective, bossy, and slightly annoying older brother—leaning against his ridiculously expensive Aston Martin, looking like he had stepped out of a business magazine. Tailored navy-blue suit, Rolex watch, slicked-back hair—full CEO mode.

But the moment our eyes met, his sharp business-like expression melted into something warmer.

"Adhya!"

I barely had time to react before I was crushed into a tight hug, my feet lifting off the ground.

"God, I missed you, kiddo," he muttered, squeezing me so hard I could barely breathe.

I laughed, wrapping my arms around him. "Missed you too, Bhai! But unless you want me to suffocate on my first day back, you might want to let me go."

I smirked. "Wow, Bhai, did you dress up just for me? I feel so special."

Aarav scoffed, stepping forward and grabbing my suitcase like it personally offended him. "Please, Adhya. Unlike you, some of us actually work for a living."

I gasped dramatically, placing a hand on my chest. "Excuse me! Fashion is work, okay? I had to survive on caffeine and tears to finish my degree!"

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, leading me to the car. "You were probably shopping half the time."

I rolled my eyes as he opened the passenger door for me. "You're just jealous I have better taste in clothes."

"You wear pink too much," he shot back.

"What were you even eating in New York? Air?"

I followed him, sighing. "Excuse me, I eat just fine."

"Yeah, if coffee and croissants count as food," he muttered, opening the passenger door for me.

I huffed. "I have a balanced diet, okay? Croissants for carbs, coffee for energy. Perfect."

Aarav scoffed as he slid into the driver's seat. "Unbelievable."

As soon as we hit the road, I sighed in pleasure, running my fingers over the plush leather seats. "God, I missed this car. Maybe I should drive—"

"You touch this car, and I'll send you back to the airport," Aarav said without missing a beat.

I gasped dramatically. "Wow. No faith in my driving skills?"

"You crashed a hatchback the last time you were here," he reminded me.

"It wasn't my fault!"

"You drove into a parked car."

"Okay, but it was parked in the wrong place," I argued.

Aarav shot me a deadpan look. "It was parked inside our garage."

I grinned sheepishly. "Fine. Maybe I shouldn't drive this one."

He muttered something under his breath about "menaces disguised as sisters," but I chose to ignore it.

The drive home was smooth, filled with Aarav's usual lectures about being careful, not trusting random people, and something about "learning responsibility"—which I mostly tuned out.

"How's Ma and Papa?" I asked, before he could get into a full 'elder brother' rant.

Aarav sighed. "Same as always. Ma still thinks I don't eat enough."

I grinned. "So, nothing's changed."

He shook his head, but I caught the small, fond smile on his lips.

The Chauhan mansion was just as grand as I remembered—towering pillars, sprawling gardens, and fairy lights twinkling along the driveway. The second we stepped inside, I was met with the warm scent of sandalwood and fresh roses—Ma's favorite.

And then—

"Adhya beta!"

I barely had time to blink before I was engulfed in my mother's arms, my face smothered into her soft cotton saree.

"Ma—air," I choked.

She pulled back, cupping my face as if memorizing every detail. "Look at you! So thin! Are you even eating properly?"

I groaned. "Ma, I'm fine—"

"You're not fine! Aarav, look at her! So weak!"

Aarav smirked. "Told you, Ma. She survives on iced coffee and drama."

I swatted his arm. "Liar!"

Before Ma could start another rant, I felt a strong, familiar hand on my head.

"Welcome home, princess."

I turned, breaking into a wide grin. "Papa!"

Unlike Ma, Dad didn't suffocate me—he pulled me into a strong, warm hug, patting my back like I was still his little girl.

"You must be tired. Come, sit," he said, leading me to the couch like I was some delicate glass doll. "I told your mother to let you rest first, but does she ever listen?"

Ma scoffed. "And let my daughter starve? Never!"

I giggled as a plate of hot samosas appeared in front of me. Ah, heaven.

Papa chuckled. "Adhya, get some rest sweetheart. We have dinner tonight with the Malhotras."

I nearly choked. "What? I just got here!"

Aarav sat beside me, grabbing a samosa for himself. "It's just dinner, drama queen."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Bhai, I want to spend time with you guys, not go to some formal dinner with another business family."

Ma sighed. "Fine. But tomorrow, no excuses!"

I grinned. "Deal!"

As I leaned back, completely content with my samosas, my family, and the familiar warmth of home, I had no idea that skipping this dinner wouldn't change a thing.

Because fate had already decided.