A City Too Big for Me
New York City
It was a bright, cold morning in Manhattan. The kind where the wind whipped between the skyscrapers, rattling newspapers along the sidewalks, and the sun gleamed against the glass windows of towering office buildings.
Aira Mehra stood on the edge of the crosswalk, her gloved hands trembling as she clutched her worn leather bag. Yellow cabs zoomed past, and well-dressed professionals brushed by her, glued to their phones, moving with purpose — unlike her.
She had never been in a city so big. So alive. So... intimidating.
You can do this, she told herself, inhaling the sharp, crisp air.
It’s just an internship. It’s just a job.
Except it wasn’t just anything. This was VKM Enterprises — the largest real estate firm on the East Coast. A corporate empire led by Viraj Khanna, the man known for building skyscrapers and destroying careers with a single look. A self-made billionaire. Cold. Ruthless. Untouchable.
And today, she would be working under him.
Her stomach twisted as she crossed the street and approached the intimidating glass tower. The lobby alone was marble-floored perfection, pristine and glossy, humming with power and money.
The elevator ride to the thirty-ninth floor felt endless.
You need this job, Aira. Mom needs this job.
When the elevator dinged open, she was met with a sea of tailored suits and clicking heels. She fumbled her way to the HR desk, where a woman barely glanced at her.
“You’re the intern? Wait here. Mr. Khanna doesn’t like tardiness.”
“I—I’m ten minutes early,” Aira whispered nervously.
“Good. He doesn’t like early either.”
What?
Before Aira could process that, the HR woman’s phone buzzed. She flinched, staring at the screen as if it had come to life.
“He’ll see you now.”
With weak knees, Aira walked toward the tall mahogany doors. Her reflection stared back at her in the polished surface — a twenty-one-year-old girl with soft brown curls, wide nervous eyes, and a pale pink sweater far too cheap for this building.
She knocked once.
“Come in.”
His voice was smooth, deep, but utterly emotionless.
She pushed the door open and her breath caught.
There he was.
Viraj Khanna.
Seated behind a sleek black desk, silver cufflinks catching the morning light, his dark hair slightly tousled, sharp jaw, tailored black suit hugging his broad frame like it was made for him.
His gaze slowly lifted to meet hers.
Cold. Piercing. Unreadable.
“Close the door.”
Her hand trembled as she did.
“You’re the new intern?” His voice was clipped, impatient.
“Yes, Mr. Khanna. I—I’m Aira Mehra.”
His eyes skimmed over her — head to toe — once, quickly, but she felt it like a spark along her skin.
“You’re... not what I expected,” he murmured, his lips twitching, almost in disdain.
“I—I can work hard. I’m a fast learner.”
“I don’t like mistakes. I don’t like incompetence. I don’t like wasting time.”
He rose from his chair, slowly, like a panther sizing up its prey.
“And I don’t particularly like interns.”
Her mouth went dry.
“Why are you here?”
She swallowed hard. “I... I need this job, sir.”
His eyes darkened, something unreadable flashing across his face.
Need.
He didn’t like that word. He was a man who wanted, not needed.
“Let’s see if you’re worth the space you’re taking up in my building,” he muttered, walking past her, his shoulder grazing hers just slightly.
“Follow me.”
She stumbled to catch up.
“And one more thing, Miss Mehra.” He paused, looking over his shoulder, his lips curling into something that wasn’t quite a smile.
“Don’t trip over your own feet. I don’t tolerate clumsy.”
Her cheeks burned.
It was going to be a very long day.
But neither of them knew — not yet — that their worlds had just collided.
And neither of them would be walking away unscathed.
