"Here!" Shumi dropped a pile of heavy shopping bags on the tea table, snapping me out of my deep focus on a new project design.

I blinked, looking up from the files and glanced between the bags and her stoic figure standing at the foot of the table. She stood with her hands on her hips with an indifferent look on her face. The important project I was working on took a back seat as my frustration with relying upon her resurfaced.

Who the fuck gave her the right to drop unannounced at my apartment? I agree, I had a bad habit of keeping the door open, but that doesn't mean she can invite herself in without even a knock.

I shut the files and relaxed back on the sofa, throwing the pen on the table. "And what are these?"

"One of the conditions," she placed the list over my office files and a bunch of small papers pinned together. I remember giving her the list that my mother had sent, but not the stack of what looked like bills.

"I have packed all the gifts separately for everyone mentioned on the list and have labelled them. Except for the vintage mirror. It was shit expensive, and I didn't have that much money with me." She blushed a little and looked away.

"Wait, wait, you bought all these?" I stood up, frowning, while she gave a curt nod. "Don't worry, I have compiled the bills for you."

She spent her money on buying gifts for my people? Was she crazy or too generous?

Yeah, yeah, a bit of both! I know.

However, here the problem wasn't her. It was me. 

I kept looking at her with a deep frown. Her level of involvement with something that would save my ass was hard to believe; I couldn't wrap my head around it. Not fully. Not in the way I was supposed to.

People in my world didn't just do these things. Exchanges that involved money came with strings attached, unspoken expectations and of course carefully crafted agenda. There was always a cost; nothing came for free.

I remember both Tuhin and Shreetama di mentioning that she never went halfway, but I never expected her to live up to the bargain with such sincerity. It couldn't be just because of the anklet.

This gesture felt... alien. Extreme, even. Almost like a glitch in the system I'd grown up knowing.

"You didn't have to pay by yourself. I could have wired the money if you had given me a rough estimation," I murmured, avoiding her eyes.

I could understand her generosity, but her purity of intent almost shook me a bit. It scratched at the part that always believed that everyone was out there to use me. 

"Take these as a credit note. I have also attached my bank account details. You may transfer the money later," She rapidly informed and spun to leave.

"Hold it right there!" I sprinted to block her way. Oh no! I didn't like keeping debts. That wasn't going to happen, but if she had taken a step forward, I wasn't going to be an ungrateful douche either. 

My emotional range was low, but I most definitely wasn't soulless as she always suggested. Somewhere beneath my self-created mess, I knew when to feel grateful.

"Now what?" She threw her hands up and glared at me. 

"Listen, no need to get so worked up. While you keep your end of the bargain, I'll keep mine, but before that, I –" I trailed off a little, then coughed. Stalling; suddenly hesitating; I didn't know how to wrap my ego around and speak when it came to the little firecracker. My pride just wasn't built for gratitude, at least not the spoken kind.

I wasn't exactly sure how I would put this, but we had to start somewhere. I squeezed my eyes shut, then, gulping down my pride, blurted out. "Thanks for helping," I mumbled, though the phrase sounded like a foreign language coming out of my mouth. 

Shumi blinked. "Come again?" She stared at me in utter surprise, looking so baffled that the disbelief on her face was a bit comical.

"I said thanks!" I almost shouted and watched her eyes ready to fall out of the sockets.

"Oh my god!" She shook her head, her wide eyes still staring at me, both with shock and amusement. "You have manners?"

"Shumi, you -"

"Pardon me," she gasped, clutching her chest like she'd just seen a dinosaur. 

"It's just that..." Then, narrowing her eyes playfully, she added, "It is so hard to believe that an emotionally constipated man like you managed to utter something as basic as a thank you." 

She did not just use emotion and constipation in the same line just to describe me! Pathetic!

She smiled sarcastically, with an exaggerated bow and said, "I feel so honoured that the great Vedant Malhotra has offered his gratitude towards me!"

"You don't have to be so dramatic!" I huffed, looking away.

"You are the one who is full of drama, not me!" she argued back.

See! Even if I tried to be civil, she tested my patience every second. Nobody boiled my blood the way she did. Urgh! Someday, I swear I am going to kill this girl. This irritating little witch!

"Now, if your dramatic gestures are over, I'll take my leave. Unlike some, I have work to do," she flipped her hair and turned to leave. 

"What am I? Jobless?"

"Oh right, expanding your already expanded bank account is really a tough job!"

"Shumi, don't you dare – "

"STOP IT YOU TWO!" Shreetama di's voice sliced through the air like a whip. We froze and noticed her standing at the doorway, arms folded and eyes rimmed with both fury and exhaustion. Her expression simply screamed that she was done with us!

Apparently, we were so engrossed in arguing that none of us noticed when she had arrived.

"Where do you find the energy to bicker non-stop?" Her voice rose, which was rare. "God! The entire society has a headache because of you two. Don't you get tired of this endless verbal war?"

"He started it!" Shumi pointed at me, pleading not guilty.

"Huh! As if you didn't want to participate!" I huffed. 

"ENOUGH!" Shreetama di yelled. "Uff!" She released an infuriated breath and, glaring at us, stepped in. 

"This is getting way ahead. Three months straight and you two still haven't resolved your silly issues. Shumi, he is new here, but at least you can keep it civil. And you, Vedant, do you always behave with your neighbours like this in Delhi?"

We glanced at each other and went silent without another word.

I had never seen Shreetama di lose her temper. Her eyes visibly depicted that it wasn't just anger; she clearly looked disappointed. I guess our bickering had started to wear her down.  God! I didn't realise how draining our constant verbal battles must've been for everyone else. What I considered just noise in the background, perhaps, was disturbing others.

"Anyways, I am not here to try again and bring peace between the two of you." She turned to Shumi, handing out an orange coloured envelope. "The mirror that you spoke about, I know the owner from my college days, and she has agreed to a discount. This is a recommendation letter. You show this to her when you go today to pick it up."

I frowned as Shumi glanced at me again, then back at Shreetama di. "Today as in now?" she asked.

"Yes, my friend is leaving in tonight's flight and will be back after a month. So the best would be today, as her employees at the auction house do not have the authority to sell that particular mirror and need her approval."

"Shreetama di, I'll go and get it," I offered and picked up my car keys from the table, switching off my laptop.

"You?" she snorted. "Why are you suddenly being so generous towards her?" she eyed me.

I closed my eyes, scratching my ears. Instead of going round and round, the best was to put it straight. 

"Basically, I asked her to look for that mirror," I said while feeling Shumi's glare from the side. "My mother asked me to get it for my aunt. She is coming from the States next month and has a thing for vintage items," I said while Shreetama di kept looking at me with confusion.

"So it is Shumi who offered to help you?" she asked to confirm that Shumi had actually agreed to help me.

"Well, that's because he – "

"I'll pick it up. You give me the envelope!" I quickly said to stop Shumi from disclosing our little agreement. While Shreetama di knew I was planning to speak with Shumi regarding Sanchari Chowdhury but if she came to know that I was technically blackmailing Shumi, I might just lose my place in her eyes.

Shreetama di was like an elder sister I never had, and I wasn't going to compromise on that due to this insane situation.

However, Shreetama di didn't ponder much. She shook her head, saying, "No, since I wasn't aware of your arrangement, I mentioned Shumi's name both over the call and in this letter. Even though she is my friend, she is highly professional and won't entertain last-minute changes. So it has to be Shumi, although you can drive her there."

Fuck my life!

Shreetama di glanced between us while we shared a silent question as to what to do.

"Don't just stand there, make it fast. She leaves for the airport in another two hours." Shreetama di kept the envelope on the table and walked away.

Shumi flared her nose and snatched up the envelope. "Only for my anklet!" she muttered and marched out of my apartment.

"The things I tolerate for my family!" I sighed and went after that crackpot.

It was true that wheneveryou were in a hurry, things got insanely delayed. The mad traffic, the crazyrain and of course our endless arguments over the directions. But, thankfully,we had managed to reach the auction house an hour before the owner was about toleave. 

However, a constant disturbance had started to wreck my mind. 

We were standing in front of a lavish antique store that looked more like some aristocrat's private gallery. Honestly, I was damn sure attending exhibitions here was by invitation only. 

I didn't realise I was standing rooted to the spot until Shumi bumped into my back. "Ufff! What is wrong with you? Move!" she nudged me to enter the building, which, for some strange reason, I didn't want to.

Anyways, as soon as I stepped in, I was bowled by the interiors. 

Each corner seemed to be soaked in opulence. Deep crimson walls blended seamlessly with the contrast of polished black woodwork. Vintage lanterns hung from a richly detailed ceiling, their soft glow bouncing off gilded mirrors and a grand chandelier that looked like it had once belonged to a French ballroom. 

The red carpeted wooden double staircase, intricately carved, spiralled around a central atrium that drew your gaze upward to a stained-glass dome. Decorated with velvet chairs and fine organza drapes, the entire space breathed wealth, but the kind of generational wealth that hid secrets in its bones. 

"Woah! This is grand! Isn't it?" I heard Shumi gasp beside me while I acknowledged with a simple hum. 

I was fucking impressed, yet, despite its elegance, or perhaps because of it, my skin itched with discomfort. I couldn't explain why, but something about the store and its gallery didn't sit right with me. 

Or perhaps it wasn't the store; it was a kind of unease I had been feeling since the day I had stepped into my apartment. Somehow, coming here, that strange feeling just heightened. 

My instincts screamed as a tight pull settled in my gut; this kind of sixth sense I'd never experienced before. I didn't believe in omens, but even I could figure the peculiar foreboding engulfing me. As if something was about to begin, or maybe... had begun.

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My Inspiration for the Store cum Gallery:

It is a real place in Kolkata. Galleria 1910 Banquets

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