I really want to hear your reviews today, please share your thoughts from your POV! 😊
Yaar, agar kahin problem hai toh batao na... Kahan lag raha hai ke galat jaa rahi hoon?
Kya story zyada fast hai ya slow? Ya phir plot samajh nahi aa raha? Subtitles chahiye ya koi aur suggestions?
Please kuch feedback do, warna mein story band kar dungi!
Main bhi student hoon yaar, itni himmat mujh mein bhi nahi hai likhne ki... Yaar, views toh 100+ ho rahe hain 5 ghante ke andar, lekin votes sirf 6-7?!
Mere saath kya masla hai tum logon ka?
Meri book ko bhi top 10 mein le aao na, maine kya bigaada hai tum sabka? 😩
Poor author!
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Yoo inke ans do pehle
KOUN HOGI YEH OFFICE WALI?
OR NAAGIN BETI KOI KALESHI HOGI?
-------------------------------------------
“Kitne besharam ho tum, Astagfirullah,” I shot back, a mix of exasperation and amusement lacing my words.
“Ab tum Madhubala banogi toh mera Emraan Hashmi jaagega hi na,” he quipped, flashing me that signature smirk of his.
I rolled my eyes, trying to hide the smile tugging at my lips.
“Chalo ab, ghar. Mujhe bhook lagi hai.”
“Mujhe bhi bhook lagi hai, but.....” he paused, his eyes darkening with mischief, “mujhe dessert zyada pasand hai.” he said lifting my veil.
“Let’s go then. Cheesecake and coffee pike ghar chalte hain” I replied, intentionally playing dumb, hoping to derail whatever flirtatious idea was brewing in his mind.
He chuckled softly, leaning closer as his hand reached up, gently caressing my lower lip with his thumb.
“I’m not talking about that,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.
I froze for a second, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through me. My heart raced, and I quickly stepped back, trying to collect myself before he noticed the effect he had on me.
“Dream on, Irfaz,” I muttered, attempting to sound nonchalant.
He grinned, clearly enjoying every second of my flustered reaction.
“Oh, I don’t need to dream, BIWI. You know exactly what I want.”
“Chup kar,” I snapped, trying to regain some control of the situation, but even I knew the damage was already done. “Don’t forget, you’re the same guy who tried to choke me with a pillow on the flight.”
“Yeah, sure. I almost got sleep apnea thanks to you.”
“Ab itna bhi exaggerate mat karo,” he replied with a smirk, stepping closer again. “You love the drama.”
“Correction— you love the drama, and you’re dragging me along with you,” I shot back, crossing my arms, trying to maintain my composure as he loomed closer.
“Dragging you?” He raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “You willingly came along,biwi.Don’t act like you didn’t.”
I scoffed, trying to hold my ground, but the smirk on his face was making it increasingly difficult.
“Please, I was just being polite.”
“Polite?” he repeated, stepping even closer until the space between us practically disappeared. “Right, because agreeing to marry me and spend your life with me was just... good manners?”
I rolled my eyes, trying to keep my cool. “Manners, self-preservation, call it what you want. And don’t forget how you married me. If I wanted, I could still file for divorce and claim half your life as alimony.”
Irfaz chuckled, completely unfazed by my threat.
“Fifty percent of my life, huh? Sweetheart, you already have all of it.”
I raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I,” he said, leaning in until his face was inches from mine, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “But go ahead, file for divorce. Take half, or take it all. But don’t forget one thing.”
I narrowed my eyes at him.
He smiled, his eyes gleaming with that familiar mischief.
“You’ll still be stuck with me. No matter how many papers you sign, you can’t get rid of me that easily.”
I scoffed, but before I could say anything, he added,“Besides, I’d just win you back anyway. And you know it.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at his ridiculous response. “You’re too full of yourself, you know that?”
“Maybe,” he said, shrugging with that boyish grin, “but it’s what you love about me.”
“I love nothing about you.”
He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear. “Then why haven’t you left?”
I froze at his question, not knowing the answer myself.
He leaned in, his voice dropping lower. “Yet here you are, in my arms. Admit it, you can’t resist me.”
“Ugh, you’re impossible,” I muttered,
I was about to retort, but the way his eyes sparkled with mischief made me pause for a moment.
I sighed, giving him a playful shove. “Let’s just go home before your delusions get worse.”
He gave me a quick peck on my cheek, lowering my veil gently over my face. Before I could say anything, he grabbed my hand, pulling me with him out of his cabin and toward the elevator. His grip was firm but comforting, and I found myself walking beside him, matching his pace.
As we passed by the reception, I noticed the change in atmosphere. Every pair of eyes turned toward us, wide with shock, as if they’d just seen a ghost. Whispers and murmurs spread like wildfire through the room, but Irfaz didn’t seem to care. He kept walking confidently, his fingers intertwined with mine, completely unfazed by the stares.
I could feel their judgmental gazes burning into me, and for a moment, I hesitated.
“Irfaz,” I whispered, trying to tug my hand free. “Everyone’s staring.”
He didn’t slow down or let go. Instead, he gave my hand a reassuring squeeze, his voice calm and low.
“Let them stare. You’re with me.”
I bit my lip, trying to suppress the growing unease.
“They’re looking at us.”
He stopped abruptly, turning to face me. His expression softened, but there was a firm resolve in his eyes.
“they can look all they want. What matters is that You belong wherever I am, Izel. Don’t forget that.”
I blinked, caught off guard by the firmness in his words. The world outside of us felt loud and overwhelming, but in that moment, standing in front of him, everything else seemed to fade into the background.
As we reached outside, Irfaz moved ahead of me, walking with a calm confidence. He reached the car first and, in one smooth motion, opened the door like a true gentleman. His eyes met mine with a soft smile as he gestured for me to step inside.
“After you,biwi,” he said, making sure his tone was respectful yet playful.
I slid into the seat, and he carefully adjusted my burkah, tucking it neatly inside the car so it wouldn’t get caught. His hands moved with such ease and precision, as if it were second nature to him. Once he was satisfied that I was comfortable, he gently closed the door, giving me a moment to myself before joining me on the other side.
He settled in beside me, his presence a calming force, and the driver started the engine, taking us back home. The quiet hum of the car filled the space, and I could feel the weight of the day slowly lift off my shoulders as we left the gaze of prying eyes behind.
As we arrived back home, the car pulled up to the entrance, and I saw Mom standing there with a warm, welcoming smile. Dewan was with her, looking as amused as ever.
As Irfaz and I stepped out of the car, Dewan leaned in close to me, his voice a conspiratorial whisper.
“Bhabhi naagin ki beti aake hazir. Be careful, kuch bole toh mujhe batana.”
I tried to stifle a laugh at his playful warning, knowing full well that Dewan’s teasing was his way of showing concern. I nodded, a smile tugging at my lips.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
----------------------
As we settled down in the living room, I removed my burkah, feeling the relief of being free from it. Dewan and Mom sat across from us, their curiosity evident as they looked at me.
“Bhabhi, kaisa raha pehla din bhai ke office pe?” Dewan asked, his tone filled with genuine interest.
“Ek dum bakwas,” I replied, letting out a dramatic sigh.
“Why? Itna achha toh company built hai—luxury vibe, luxury facilities, ek gym, swimming pool, billiard room...” Dewan listed off all the amenities with a hint of pride.
“Mujhe dekhne ko mile tab na,” I complained, crossing my arms.
“Aisa kyu? Kya kiya pura din office pe? Office romance?” Dewan teased, a playful smirk on his face.
I shot him a glare, unamused by his jabs. “Mujhe files pakda di hain tumhare bhai ne, woh bhi 2 weeks ke. Maine pura din file review karti rahi, aur tumhare bhai ne ek cheesecake aur coffee bhi nahi dilaya. Kanjoos, makhisoos insaan hai tumhara bhai,” I complained, my voice taking on a childlike whine.
Dewan burst into laughter, clearly enjoying my frustration.
“Arey, yeh toh sach mein makhisoos hai. Next time, main zaroor apko cheesecake aur coffee dilwaunga.”
“Dewan, you better make sure she gets her cheesecake soon,” Irfaz interjected with a grin, his voice holding a note of mischief.
“Absolutely,” Dewan agreed, still laughing. “I’ll make it happen.”
As Mom made her way to the kitchen to prepare tea and snacks, she said, “Jao, fresh ho jao dono. Dad bhi aate hi honge. Main chai aur nashta ready karti hoon.”
Irfaz and I headed upstairs, and I quickly changed into more comfortable clothes and finished my namaz. Irfaz followed me into the room, his presence a calming one as I went through my routine. It was moments like these quiet and routine that made me appreciate the balance we found amidst the busyness of our lives.
Once we were both refreshed, we headed back downstairs.
“Meri chai aur kitna wait karega mere liye?” I teased, as we descended the stairs, making my way to the kitchen where Mom was busy.
Irfaz chuckled beside me, clearly enjoying the banter.
“Patience, biwi. Good things come to those who wait.”
As we all settled in the living room, I noticed Dad had come back from his room. The family gathered around, and I saw a familiar figure approaching. I pretended not to recognize her as she entered.
“Arey Kinzal, soo ke uth gayi? Aajao, chai pi lo,” Mom called out warmly.
“Yes, aunty,” Kinzal replied with a polite smile.
Dewan leaned in, muttering under his breath, “Yeh chai thodi khoon piyegi.”
“For real,” I replied, catching Dewan’s eye as he looked at me with exaggerated surprise.
“You guys meet her?” Dewan whispered, clearly intrigued.
“Yes, lambi story hai, baad mein sunati hu,” I said, taking a sip of my tea to avoid further discussion for now.
Kinzal greeted Irfaz with a “Good evening,” and Irfaz simply responded with a curt “evening.”
The tension in the room was palpable, and I could feel Dewan’s curiosity bubbling just below the surface. I decided to focus on finishing my tea and trying to enjoy the moment despite the undercurrents of awkwardness and the familiar, unsettling presence of Kinzal.
“When did you arrive, Kinzaal? Didn’t your mom come with you?” Dad asked, curious.
“She’s coming tomorrow. I managed to get an earlier flight, so I came ahead,” she explained.
Sidhe sidhe bol de na irfaz se line marne ayi h tu besharam behaya aurat.
“Hmm, that’s why you showed up at my office unannounced,” Irfaz remarked, clearly unimpressed.
“You didn’t mention you met Irfaz first, Kinzaal?” Mom asked, surprised.
“Well, I wanted to surprise him. You know how close we are practically best friends,” Kinzaal said.
“Correction.....” Before irfaz could finshed his reply, she quickly added, “Irfaz, don’t embarrass me in front of them.”
“As long as you don’t pull any stunts with my wife. Consider this your warning.”
With that, he excused himself, saying he had work to attend to.
“Bhabhi, let’s go! I’ll show you my room and you can help me with my studies,” Dewan suggested, eager to change the subject.
Glad for the distraction, I followed him, excusing myself from Mom and Dad.
As we entered his room, Dewan grinned mischievously.
“So, Bhabhi, tell me what happened at the office today.”
“Devar ji, aap thoda zyada gossip queen wali vibes nahi de rahe ho?” I teased.
“Hota hai, hota hai, jab vibe match kar jaye toh sab kuch hota hai,” he said with a grin.
I told him all about my day at the office, leaving out the parts where Irfaz was being flirtatious. Time passed quickly as we chatted.
Later, I performed my Isha prayers and was called down for dinner. After eating, I headed to our room, exhausted from the day.I slipped into bed, but Irfaz wasn’t back yet, still working. So, I grabbed my phone and started reading THE DESIRE by wrtsbyAsza on Wattpad.
Before long, sleep took over.
----------------
The next morning, I woke up and found the bed empty, as usual. After completing my morning routine, I stepped out of the bathroom, drying my hair with one of his shirts.
Just then, he walked in, dressed in his office attire.
“Biwi, ab toh meri shirts bhi churane lagi ho?” he teased, eyeing the shirt in my hand.
“Churane ki kya baat? Jo washroom mein tha, wohi use kiya. Waise bhi, mujhe kaise pata ke yeh Mr. Kanjoos ki shirt hai? Cheesecake toh dilaayi nahi, ab shirt bhi use karne nahi doge?” I replied, smirking.
Irfaz chuckled, walking closer as he loosened his tie.
“Mr. Kanjoos, huh?” he said, his voice light with amusement. “Toh ab cheesecake aur t- shirts dono ka badla lena hai?”
I rolled my eyes, continuing to dry my hair with his shirt.
“Tumse toh bas ek decent treat maangi thi. Aur ab dekho, shirt churane tak baat aa gayi.”
He stepped behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, leaning down to rest his chin on my shoulder.
“Ab tumhara haqdaar hun, toh tum sab kuch le sakti ho. Cheesecake bhi, shirts bhi, aur...” He trailed off, his voice dipping lower, teasing.
“Haan haan, bada haq jamane aaye ho. Lekin cheesecake abhi tak nahi dilaya,” I muttered, trying to keep my voice steady, but the playful undertone was hard to hide.
He chuckled softly, tightening his hold just a little.
“Cheesecake bhi milega, biwi. Lekin pehle... thoda aur haq jamaane do.”
I turned my head slightly, meeting his eyes, my own playful smirk tugging at my lips.
“Haq toh tab jama paoge jab tum mere haq ke kaam bhi pura karoge, Mr. Kanjoos.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Aur tumhare haq ke kaam kya hain?”
“Simple,” I said, grinning. “Ek coffee, ek cheesecake, or ek library novels ki”
“Yeah, sure. I almost got sleep apnea thanks to you.”
“Ab itna bhi exaggerate mat karo,” he replied with a smirk, stepping closer again. “You love the drama.”
“Correction— you love the drama, and you’re dragging me along with you,” I shot back, crossing my arms, trying to maintain my composure as he loomed closer.
“Dragging you?” He raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “You willingly came along,biwi.Don’t act like you didn’t.”
I scoffed, trying to hold my ground, but the smirk on his face was making it increasingly difficult.
“Please, I was just being polite.”
“Polite?” he repeated, stepping even closer until the space between us practically disappeared. “Right, because agreeing to marry me and spend your life with me was just... good manners?”
I rolled my eyes, trying to keep my cool. “Manners, self-preservation, call it what you want. And don’t forget how you married me. If I wanted, I could still file for divorce and claim half your life as alimony.”
Irfaz chuckled, completely unfazed by my threat.
“Fifty percent of my life, huh? Sweetheart, you already have all of it.”
I raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I,” he said, leaning in until his face was inches from mine, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “But go ahead, file for divorce. Take half, or take it all. But don’t forget one thing.”
I narrowed my eyes at him.
He smiled, his eyes gleaming with that familiar mischief.
“You’ll still be stuck with me. No matter how many papers you sign, you can’t get rid of me that easily.”
I scoffed, but before I could say anything, he added,“Besides, I’d just win you back anyway. And you know it.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at his ridiculous response. “You’re too full of yourself, you know that?”
“Maybe,” he said, shrugging with that boyish grin, “but it’s what you love about me.”
“I love nothing about you.”
He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear. “Then why haven’t you left?”
I froze at his question, not knowing the answer myself.
He leaned in, his voice dropping lower. “Yet here you are, in my arms. Admit it, you can’t resist me.”
“Ugh, you’re impossible,” I muttered,
I was about to retort, but the way his eyes sparkled with mischief made me pause for a moment.
I sighed, giving him a playful shove. “Let’s just go home before your delusions get worse.”
He gave me a quick peck on my cheek, lowering my veil gently over my face. Before I could say anything, he grabbed my hand, pulling me with him out of his cabin and toward the elevator. His grip was firm but comforting, and I found myself walking beside him, matching his pace.
As we passed by the reception, I noticed the change in atmosphere. Every pair of eyes turned toward us, wide with shock, as if they’d just seen a ghost. Whispers and murmurs spread like wildfire through the room, but Irfaz didn’t seem to care. He kept walking confidently, his fingers intertwined with mine, completely unfazed by the stares.
I could feel their judgmental gazes burning into me, and for a moment, I hesitated.
“Irfaz,” I whispered, trying to tug my hand free. “Everyone’s staring.”
He didn’t slow down or let go. Instead, he gave my hand a reassuring squeeze, his voice calm and low.
“Let them stare. You’re with me.”
I bit my lip, trying to suppress the growing unease.
“They’re looking at us.”
He stopped abruptly, turning to face me. His expression softened, but there was a firm resolve in his eyes.
“they can look all they want. What matters is that You belong wherever I am, Izel. Don’t forget that.”
I blinked, caught off guard by the firmness in his words. The world outside of us felt loud and overwhelming, but in that moment, standing in front of him, everything else seemed to fade into the background.
As we reached outside, Irfaz moved ahead of me, walking with a calm confidence. He reached the car first and, in one smooth motion, opened the door like a true gentleman. His eyes met mine with a soft smile as he gestured for me to step inside.
“After you,biwi,” he said, making sure his tone was respectful yet playful.
I slid into the seat, and he carefully adjusted my burkah, tucking it neatly inside the car so it wouldn’t get caught. His hands moved with such ease and precision, as if it were second nature to him. Once he was satisfied that I was comfortable, he gently closed the door, giving me a moment to myself before joining me on the other side.
He settled in beside me, his presence a calming force, and the driver started the engine, taking us back home. The quiet hum of the car filled the space, and I could feel the weight of the day slowly lift off my shoulders as we left the gaze of prying eyes behind.
As we arrived back home, the car pulled up to the entrance, and I saw Mom standing there with a warm, welcoming smile. Dewan was with her, looking as amused as ever.
As Irfaz and I stepped out of the car, Dewan leaned in close to me, his voice a conspiratorial whisper.
“Bhabhi naagin ki beti aake hazir. Be careful, kuch bole toh mujhe batana.”
I tried to stifle a laugh at his playful warning, knowing full well that Dewan’s teasing was his way of showing concern. I nodded, a smile tugging at my lips.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
----------------------
As we settled down in the living room, I removed my burkah, feeling the relief of being free from it. Dewan and Mom sat across from us, their curiosity evident as they looked at me.
“Bhabhi, kaisa raha pehla din bhai ke office pe?” Dewan asked, his tone filled with genuine interest.
“Ek dum bakwas,” I replied, letting out a dramatic sigh.
“Why? Itna achha toh company built hai—luxury vibe, luxury facilities, ek gym, swimming pool, billiard room...” Dewan listed off all the amenities with a hint of pride.
“Mujhe dekhne ko mile tab na,” I complained, crossing my arms.
“Aisa kyu? Kya kiya pura din office pe? Office romance?” Dewan teased, a playful smirk on his face.
I shot him a glare, unamused by his jabs. “Mujhe files pakda di hain tumhare bhai ne, woh bhi 2 weeks ke. Maine pura din file review karti rahi, aur tumhare bhai ne ek cheesecake aur coffee bhi nahi dilaya. Kanjoos, makhisoos insaan hai tumhara bhai,” I complained, my voice taking on a childlike whine.
Dewan burst into laughter, clearly enjoying my frustration.
“Arey, yeh toh sach mein makhisoos hai. Next time, main zaroor apko cheesecake aur coffee dilwaunga.”
“Dewan, you better make sure she gets her cheesecake soon,” Irfaz interjected with a grin, his voice holding a note of mischief.
“Absolutely,” Dewan agreed, still laughing. “I’ll make it happen.”
As Mom made her way to the kitchen to prepare tea and snacks, she said, “Jao, fresh ho jao dono. Dad bhi aate hi honge. Main chai aur nashta ready karti hoon.”
Irfaz and I headed upstairs, and I quickly changed into more comfortable clothes and finished my namaz. Irfaz followed me into the room, his presence a calming one as I went through my routine. It was moments like these quiet and routine that made me appreciate the balance we found amidst the busyness of our lives.
Once we were both refreshed, we headed back downstairs.
“Meri chai aur kitna wait karega mere liye?” I teased, as we descended the stairs, making my way to the kitchen where Mom was busy.
Irfaz chuckled beside me, clearly enjoying the banter.
“Patience, biwi. Good things come to those who wait.”
As we all settled in the living room, I noticed Dad had come back from his room. The family gathered around, and I saw a familiar figure approaching. I pretended not to recognize her as she entered.
“Arey Kinzal, soo ke uth gayi? Aajao, chai pi lo,” Mom called out warmly.
“Yes, aunty,” Kinzal replied with a polite smile.
Dewan leaned in, muttering under his breath, “Yeh chai thodi khoon piyegi.”
“For real,” I replied, catching Dewan’s eye as he looked at me with exaggerated surprise.
“You guys meet her?” Dewan whispered, clearly intrigued.
“Yes, lambi story hai, baad mein sunati hu,” I said, taking a sip of my tea to avoid further discussion for now.
Kinzal greeted Irfaz with a “Good evening,” and Irfaz simply responded with a curt “evening.”
The tension in the room was palpable, and I could feel Dewan’s curiosity bubbling just below the surface. I decided to focus on finishing my tea and trying to enjoy the moment despite the undercurrents of awkwardness and the familiar, unsettling presence of Kinzal.
“When did you arrive, Kinzaal? Didn’t your mom come with you?” Dad asked, curious.
“She’s coming tomorrow. I managed to get an earlier flight, so I came ahead,” she explained.
Sidhe sidhe bol de na irfaz se line marne ayi h tu besharam behaya aurat.
“Hmm, that’s why you showed up at my office unannounced,” Irfaz remarked, clearly unimpressed.
“You didn’t mention you met Irfaz first, Kinzaal?” Mom asked, surprised.
“Well, I wanted to surprise him. You know how close we are practically best friends,” Kinzaal said.
“Correction.....” Before irfaz could finshed his reply, she quickly added, “Irfaz, don’t embarrass me in front of them.”
“As long as you don’t pull any stunts with my wife. Consider this your warning.”
With that, he excused himself, saying he had work to attend to.
“Bhabhi, let’s go! I’ll show you my room and you can help me with my studies,” Dewan suggested, eager to change the subject.
Glad for the distraction, I followed him, excusing myself from Mom and Dad.
As we entered his room, Dewan grinned mischievously.
“So, Bhabhi, tell me what happened at the office today.”
“Devar ji, aap thoda zyada gossip queen wali vibes nahi de rahe ho?” I teased.
“Hota hai, hota hai, jab vibe match kar jaye toh sab kuch hota hai,” he said with a grin.
I told him all about my day at the office, leaving out the parts where Irfaz was being flirtatious. Time passed quickly as we chatted.
Later, I performed my Isha prayers and was called down for dinner. After eating, I headed to our room, exhausted from the day.I slipped into bed, but Irfaz wasn’t back yet, still working. So, I grabbed my phone and started reading THE DESIRE by wrtsbyAsza on Wattpad.
Before long, sleep took over.
----------------
The next morning, I woke up and found the bed empty, as usual. After completing my morning routine, I stepped out of the bathroom, drying my hair with one of his shirts.
Just then, he walked in, dressed in his office attire.
“Biwi, ab toh meri shirts bhi churane lagi ho?” he teased, eyeing the shirt in my hand.
“Churane ki kya baat? Jo washroom mein tha, wohi use kiya. Waise bhi, mujhe kaise pata ke yeh Mr. Kanjoos ki shirt hai? Cheesecake toh dilaayi nahi, ab shirt bhi use karne nahi doge?” I replied, smirking.
Irfaz chuckled, walking closer as he loosened his tie.
“Mr. Kanjoos, huh?” he said, his voice light with amusement. “Toh ab cheesecake aur t- shirts dono ka badla lena hai?”
I rolled my eyes, continuing to dry my hair with his shirt.
“Tumse toh bas ek decent treat maangi thi. Aur ab dekho, shirt churane tak baat aa gayi.”
He stepped behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, leaning down to rest his chin on my shoulder.
“Ab tumhara haqdaar hun, toh tum sab kuch le sakti ho. Cheesecake bhi, shirts bhi, aur...” He trailed off, his voice dipping lower, teasing.
“Haan haan, bada haq jamane aaye ho. Lekin cheesecake abhi tak nahi dilaya,” I muttered, trying to keep my voice steady, but the playful undertone was hard to hide.
He chuckled softly, tightening his hold just a little.
“Cheesecake bhi milega, biwi. Lekin pehle... thoda aur haq jamaane do.”
I turned my head slightly, meeting his eyes, my own playful smirk tugging at my lips.
“Haq toh tab jama paoge jab tum mere haq ke kaam bhi pura karoge, Mr. Kanjoos.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Aur tumhare haq ke kaam kya hain?”
“Simple,” I said, grinning. “Ek coffee, ek cheesecake, or ek library novels ki”
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