shriti's POV
My phone buzzed again.
Shivrit: Pehchana mujhe?
Of course I recognized him.
But I didn't want him to know that.
So I typed back carefully.
Nahi. Aap kaun? Aur aapko mera number kahan se mila?
There was a pause.
Then—
I have my ways, Bunny.
I frowned.
Bunny?
Yes. You. Cute little bunny.
I don't know why—
But I liked it.
No one had ever called me something like that.
In my house I was "beta."
In school I was "Ashriti Goyal."
In family gatherings I was "future bahu material."
But Bunny?
That felt… different.
Something inside me fluttered.
Something also warned me.
This isn't right.
But I ignored that voice.
Before I could reply, another message popped up.
Heard you're the richest girl in school. What does your father do?
And just like that—
My smile faded.
There it is.
The real reason.
Money.
It always comes back to money.
For a second, I wanted to stop replying.
To block him.
To prove I wasn't stupid.
But instead, I typed:
My father is a magician.
A few seconds later—
Oh really?
Haan. Jaadu se paise banate hain. Isliye main rich hoon.
There was a laughing emoji.
Then another message.
Cute. But seriously. What does he do?
I could feel irritation rising.
Why does it matter?
Why is that the first thing you care about?
Why? Planning to send him your CV? I typed.
He replied instantly.
Depends. Is he hiring?
I rolled my eyes.
But I didn't stop smiling.
And that annoyed me more than his question.
Because I knew.
I knew boys like him noticed girls like me for one reason.
Still—
I didn't stop.
Maybe if I kept talking, he'd talk about something else.
Maybe if I stayed interesting enough, he'd forget about money.
Maybe if I tried hard enough—
He'd see me.
Not my surname.
Not my bank balance.
Me.
The screen suddenly lit up.
Incoming Call.
Shivrit Poptani.
My heart stopped.
Call?
At 4:02 A.M.?
Who calls a girl at 4 A.M.?
Especially a girl like me.
Good girls don't pick up calls at 4 A.M.
Good daughters don't even have their phones on at 4 A.M.
I stared at the screen.
It kept ringing.
My heart was racing.
Should I pick up?
If I don't, he'll think I'm boring.
If I do, I cross a line I was never supposed to cross.
The ringing felt louder than it actually was.
One more second.
One more ring.
And before I could think—
I swiped.