The shrill ring of her alarm jolted Gauri awake. She groaned, turned over, and fumbled for her phone. But as soon as the screen lit up, her sleep vanished.

"You are fired."

The notification blinked like a cruel joke.

"What the—no, no, this has to be a mistake..." she muttered, bolting upright on her bed. "Must be a typo. Definitely a typo."

Without a second thought, she hit the dial button.

“Good morning, Gauri,” her boss greeted sweetly on the other end.

“Good morning, ma’am... I just received a message—it must be wrong. I was fired?”

“No, Gauri. It’s not a mistake.”

Her voice was calm. Too calm.

“What? But why?! What did I do?”

“I didn’t fire you,” her boss sighed.

“It came from the top. Orders from the upper authority.”

The line went dead.

Gauri sat stunned for a second. And then, fury erupted like a storm.

Ten minutes later, she barged into Hriday Singh Shekhawat’s office, the door banging open so hard that two junior executives jumped.

“Why did you do that?!”

Hriday, seated at his desk with a cool demeanor, glanced up and addressed the men standing before him. “You two can go.”

The men hurried out, one glaring at Gauri. She ignored him.

“Take a seat, Miss,”

Hriday said smoothly.

“I’m not here to sit!”

“Okay then, Miss Pressure Cooker,”

he said with a smirk.

“Don’t call me that!” Gauri snapped.

“Why not? You practically exploded in here.”

Her glare could cut through steel.

“What did you do to get me fired?”

“That’s none of your concern.” He slid a familiar file toward her. “But since you’re jobless now, you might want to reconsider signing this.”

“Why on Earth would I?”

“Because I’m telling you to.”

“You’re not my boss!”

“But I am the man who holds the deed to Mr. Saha’s property. So yes, I think you’ll listen to me.”

“It’s Gauri Podder, for your information.”

“Typical,” Hriday sneered.

“Low-class outburst.”

“Excuse me?”

Gauri’s voice dropped, sharp and cutting.

“You can’t talk to me like that. Just because you have money doesn’t mean you own people.”

“Oh please,” he scoffed.

“Do you even know what respect means?”

“Do you? You’re a human being, Mr. Shekhawat. Try acting like one.”

Hriday’s laugh was dark.

“Human?”

“Yes. Or don’t you consider yourself one anymore?”

“What do you think I am, then?”

“You… look like an ichthyosaur.”

“W-What?” Hriday blinked. “Ich-what-now?”

“You know, a sea dinosaur,”

Gauri said matter-of-factly.

“I was a gold medalist in biology—don’t test me,”

Hriday said defensively.

Gauri didn’t flinch. He gulped down an entire glass of water to cool his temper.

“Where was I?”

he said finally, setting the glass down.

“You were bragging about your gold medal,”

Gauri replied with a tight smile.

He ignored the jab and pushed the contract toward her again.

“Listen, this is your last option. I have a meeting now. You’ve got one hour to decide.”

He left without another word.

Alone in the office, Gauri sat in the massive leather chair, biting her lower lip.

“What should I do, Durga Maa?” she murmured.

“No job... No offers... And he’s offering me work. Just three months. After that, I’ll find something else. I need to be practical now.”

She sighed. Her pride hated this. But her logic whispered: Say yes.

An hour later, Hriday returned, his expression unreadable.

“So?” he asked.

Gauri snapped out of her thoughts, startled. She stood and faced him.

“I’ll sign the contract.”

“Good decision.”

Hriday settled back into his seat with a satisfied nod. Gauri held out her hand.

“Pen.”

He handed it over, raising a brow as she closed her eyes and muttered a quiet prayer under her breath.

He couldn’t hear the words, but he watched her with mild curiosity.

She opened her eyes and, with steady determination, signed her name.

Hriday took the file back with a faint smile.

“Congratulations. You start tomorrow. You already know the address—see you then.”