Chapter 6 – The Sweet War Begins

Zayan Khan did not believe in chaos.

He believed in charts. Schedules. Timelines that aligned with his morning espresso shot and ended with quarterly profit meetings.

But standing in Khan Enterprises' glass hallway—next to Aleena Hashmi, CEO of his rival company and the very definition of polished composure—Zayan was about to learn that chaos had legs. And they wore glittery sneakers.

SLAM.

Andaleeb Shah crashed into him like a comet hitting a clueless planet. One second he was listening to Aleena talk about joint merger opportunities, the next—he was flying.

"Ahhh—"

Thud.

Zayan landed with a grunt—on Aleena.

Her sharp scream echoed through the floor as both CEOs went tumbling to the floor, Aleena's heels flinging to one side like shrapnel, and Zayan's suit now kissed with pink lip balm from Andaleeb's accidental elbow jab.

Andaleeb blinked up from the ground, tangled in Zayan's coat.

"Oh. My. Galax—uh—I mean God! I didn't mean to, I was running late and the floor was just—so slippy—who waxed this hallway?! It's a safety hazard!"

Zayan sat up slowly, his glare sharpening to CEO-level death-ray.

"You again?" he hissed, brushing dust off his Armani suit.

"Do you teleport near me just to ruin my life?"

Andaleeb stood, holding her shoe in one hand, hair messy, eyes wide like a kitten caught in a cookie jar.

"I swear I don't teleport. Not anymore. I mean—ever."

Aleena, furious and humiliated, brushed herself off and pointed at Andaleeb.

"Who even hired her?! Is this how your interns behave, Zayan?"

Without waiting for an answer, Aleena marched off, high heels clacking like angry gavel strikes.

Zayan muttered under his breath, "At least she didn't mention this in the partnership clause…"

Andaleeb gave a sheepish wave. "Sorry, Mr. Khan. Again."

Zayan didn't respond. But his ears? Slightly pink.

---

Office Prank Chaos

Later that day, in the executive break room, Zayan stood by the counter, meticulously preparing his usual black coffee. He stirred it absently, eyes on a document in his hand, and took a sip.

Pfft—PTOO!

Zayan spat into the sink.

"WHAT the—?!"

From behind the water dispenser, Andaleeb peeked out innocently. "Is it too hot? Or too salty?" she asked with a mock-concerned voice.

Zayan wiped his mouth, nostrils flaring.

"You—" he began, but stopped.

Andaleeb tilted her head like a curious little cat. "Hmm?"

He narrowed his eyes. She smiled wider.

Aryan, Zayan's cousin and tech head, watched the whole thing while munching popcorn.

"That's not anger," Aryan whispered with amusement.

"That's suppressed flirting."

---

Meanwhile at Zareen's Café…

Haroon pushed open the door of the cozy café with a warm smile and a box in hand.

Eman looked up from the counter. "Haroon? Again?"

"I, uh, came for coffee. And brought dessert. Totally normal behavior."

He opened the box to reveal a cream cake.

Eman's eyes sparkled. "Do you know what you've brought? This has heavy whipping cream emulsified at 36%, caramelized sugar at soft-crack stage, and I believe that's vanilla bean—not extract. Impressive."

Haroon blinked. "You just described my cake like a chemistry experiment."

"It is! Cake is edible science!" she said, grinning.

He chuckled. "You're like Google... but cuter."

Eman blinked, momentarily stunned. A small blush tinted her cheeks.

---

The Jealous CEO Emerges

Back at the office, Zayan stepped out of a meeting and froze.

Andaleeb stood by the lobby desk, talking animatedly to a delivery guy with her usual chaotic charm. She laughed—loud and free—at something the guy said.

Zayan felt something strange. A pinch. A sting.

Why did it annoy him?

Why did she look like that—happy—when five minutes ago she was replacing his sugar with salt?

Aryan passed by and smirked. "Looks like someone's glitching again."

Zayan turned slowly. "I do not 'glitch.' I optimize."

"Sure," Aryan said, patting his shoulder. "Optimize your heartbeat while you're at it."

---

HR Files & Memories

Late that night, after the office cleared out, Zayan sat alone in his cabin. The city lights twinkled behind him. The hum of silence grew loud.

He stared at Andaleeb Shah's HR file.

Photo: Blurry. She looked like she sneezed mid-shot.

Education: Patchy.

Skills: None listed.

Recommendation: "Somehow... she gets things done. Don't ask how."

He rubbed his temple. Why was he looking at this again?

He glanced at a framed photo on his shelf—a childhood birthday, untouched cake, empty chairs. A lonely little boy in a neat black suit waiting for guests who never came.

He stared at the HR file again and whispered under his breath.

"She's chaos… but at least she's real."

---

The Ending Chaos

The next morning, Zayan entered his office to find a sticky note on his laptop.

> "Dear Mr. Freeze,

I hope your tongue has recovered from its salt trauma.

Sincerely, Not Sorry."

He stared at it for a long second.

Then—he smiled. A real one. Barely there.

His phone rang. Aleena.

He answered.

"What?" he said flatly.

"Still thinking about your clumsy intern?"

Zayan didn't reply.

"Be careful, Zayan," Aleena warned. "She's not who she seems."

He narrowed his eyes.

Neither am I, he thought silently.

Zayan stared at the screen for a moment after the call ended. The digital silence echoed in his office, but his mind buzzed louder.

Outside the glass wall, in the open-floor workspace, his eyes naturally drifted toward the source of his daily irritation—and distraction.

Andaleeb.

She was spinning in her office chair—sideways—with a pen between her teeth and a document held upside-down.

Zayan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "What am I doing…"

But he wasn't the only one watching her.

From the other side of the office floor, Aleena Hashmi, arms crossed, eyes sharp like daggers, stood near the elevator, unnoticed.

Her gaze was fixed on Andaleeb—not in admiration, but in calculation.

She watched the way Andaleeb threw her head back in laughter, how others seemed drawn to her chaotic energy.

Aleena's lips curled into a tight line.

"This girl…" she muttered under her breath. "There's something off about her. Too clumsy. Too… convenient."

She turned away, high heels clicking with cold elegance, but not before whispering to herself,

> "If Zayan won't see through her—I will."