It took Rohit a while to clear his mind. By the time he finally left his room, he was already running five minutes late.
Taking a short break before dinner had turned out to be a good decision—he felt far more refreshed now. As the lift doors opened on the 36th floor, the faint thump of DJ music reached his ears.
A few steps down the corridor, several doors lined the walls—one leading to the nightclub, another to the washroom, one marked for staff, and another for the canteen. A lone bench stood nearby, occupied only by a "thinking man" statue.
At the club entrance, a pair of broad-shouldered bouncers stood watch, while the slim-toned receptionist greeted arriving guests.
From the corner, Secretary Pathak waved eagerly. Rohit returned a small wave and walked toward him. It seemed guests were required to collect a token for their reserved tables to avoid confusion. Pathak was quick to explain the details:
"Your table number is 28, and it's reserved just for you and Madam Singhania."
Rohit raised an eyebrow at that. Pathak, however, smiled approvingly, clearly impressed.
"Really thoughtful of you, sir. Finding some creative time to cheer our hardworking parents—brilliant idea! Booking a couple's seat was perfect. Madam Singhania seemed especially excited."
Realization dawned on Rohit. The "secret date" he and his mother had quietly agreed upon was now being masked as a wholesome mother-son outing—an innocent attempt to lift each other's spirits.
He simply nodded, wearing a soft smile. "Mom's always busy—whether at home or meeting people. It's a pity she's a housewife only in name, never really free. I just hope tonight gives her the cheer she deserves."
Pathak looked at him with admiration, touched by his words. If only he knew the darker, forbidden thoughts lurking in Rohit's mind, he would have been cursing instead of praising.
The moment Rohit stepped into the rooftop nightclub, the atmosphere shifted completely. Gone was the hushed quiet of the corridor—here, the air pulsed with music, lights, and chatter.
The rooftop space was triangular, with the club occupying just one section. A pool shimmered at one corner, the main stage and dance floor dominated another, while the third was taken by a two-storey seating area capped with tiled roofing. The rest was left open for mingling and dancing.
A bar stretched across both storeys, but tonight it doubled as a buffet counter. Waiters manned stalls while others weaved through the crowd with trays, carrying orders to tables.
The true spectacle, however, came from the small drones buzzing overhead, casting synchronized beams of colored light in rhythm with the music.
Rohit could imagine how lively this place must be on a normal night. Tonight, though, it carried a different tone. The crowd was thinner, and most guests moved with corporate stiffness—measured smiles, polite conversations, calculated gestures. This wasn't a party, Rohit realized; it was a business event disguised as one.
"Your table's over there," Pathak pointed. It was on the lower level, close to the pool.
Rohit liked the choice immediately. It was tucked in a corner—close enough to feel part of the crowd, yet private enough for a date. His mother had chosen well. But the table was empty.
"Where's Mom?" Rohit asked.
Checking his phone, Pathak replied, "She just messaged. She'll be here soon. Please take your seat—I'll let you know when I hear more." He hurried off in a fluster.
Rohit shrugged and walked to the table. The view was breathtaking: city lights sprawled beneath them, twinkling like stars. The arrangement was intimate—two chairs, soft candles, and a romantic glow.
Just as he settled, a familiar female voice made his chest tighten. "Waiting for someone?"
Rohit turned—and his expression soured. It was Naina Chambani, the eldest daughter of the Chambani family. She stood with an air of confidence, greeting him like they were long-lost acquaintances. From the sharpness in her gaze, Rohit knew one thing instantly: showing displeasure here would only dig his own grave.
Rohit stood up with a polite smile and offered his hand."Hi, if I'm not wrong, you are the eldest daughter of the Chambani family—Ms. Naina, right?"
Naina gave an amused smile, tilting her head as she crossed her arms. Then she shook his hand."Sometimes being famous is a curse, I believe."
Rohit laughed it off."And it would be even stranger if the guests weren't aware of the hosts themselves."
That earned him a soft giggle. "You've got a rare sense of humor. See how neatly you dodged my question by pretending to be modest?"
Rohit rolled his eyes playfully. "Not really. I'm just waiting for my mom. Honestly, you're giving me way more credit than I deserve."
Naina stepped closer.. one step, then another.
Rohit didn't budge. She stopped mere inches from him, her perfume brushing against his breath. Her eyes scanned the candlelit table."Even if that's true, tell me—how common is it for a guy to dine with his mother in a setting this romantic?"
Rohit shrugged with both hands. "How about you join me and find out? I'm certain it'll be far more interesting with your company."
Her smile widened in satisfaction. She slid into the empty chair without hesitation, crossing her legs. Rohit followed suit.
A waiter rushed over, laying down complimentary drinks. They each took a glass, eyes locked in a silent contest.
For a moment, they held the silent stare-down while sipping their glasses, until Rohit finally broke it with a question. "Why do I feel like we've met before? Somewhere else… long before this?"
Naina teased, "Wow, so blunt. Arent you going easy? Pickup lines don't work if they are widely popular."
Rohit felt embarrassed when he realized the line he meant seriously sounded like a cliché Bollywood pick-up line. Clicking his tongue, flustered, he quickly corrected himself."No, I… I didn't mean it that way."
"I like it," Naina said, breaking his composure with her response. Then she continued, "I like the way you ran with that eastern girl."
Rohit's eyes narrowed. She was replying, but vaguely."Excuse me, can you be more cle—"
Naina cut him off, leaning in."You're right, I was there. The time you slid down the escalator with that girl in your arms.. like a baby princess. I was so curious that I even checked the CCTV," she paused for a sip.
Her gaze down as if contemplating,
"guess what? those people were shameless to frame her. And the way you stood up and escaped with her? It was breathtaking, completely like a high-end chase movie."
Rohit let her talk, noting how eerily similar she sounded to her fanatic brother when idolizing someone. Still, he kept his thoughts guarded—he knew the moods of powerful people were fickle. Better to stay silent and learn more.
It turned out she had seen him sliding down the escalator with Seo-yeon, escaping the troublemakers. That was when she became a sort of "chewing gum" fan. Since she was downstairs, she also noticed him taking Seo-yeon toward the restroom. Curious, she checked the CCTV and pieced together what had gone wrong. She later returned to see if Rohit was stuck.
There, she saw the closed stall. To test if anyone was inside, she even tried singing aloud. Hearing no response, she guessed he might truly be stuck.
Thoughtfully, she paid a sweeper a little money to put up a "closed" board, giving Rohit a chance to escape safely. But by the time he came out, she was already in a hurry and got involved with someone else—who, as fate would have it, turned out to be Seo-yeon's bodyguard. That's how she knew about him.
Rohit masked his surprise behind a neutral sip of his drink. Inside, his mind was already spinning. Fortunate—too fortunate—that she hadn't seen what happened behind that locked stall door.
"And since then," Naina continued breezily, "I followed you online. That school fight clip? it was legendary. I sent it to my brother. He too was quite impressed."
Her words faded into the din of the nightclub. Rohit set his empty glass down, his expression calm but his thoughts calculating. Should he believe her gushing admiration at face value? Or was there a hidden agenda behind this sudden closeness? Either way, distance was safest.
Then..
A familiar voice cut in, warm yet teasing, jolting them both."It seems my date is being stolen… all because I was late."
Rohit turned. His chest tightened.
It was his mother, Ragini Singhania.