Chapter 1 MORANNA SHARMA POV

In India — Mumbai,

“Shit! I am late again. Can I ever get to work on time?”

“I am gonna get fired on my fucking first day.”

It’s the same never-ending cycle. Once again, I hurried out of my house. I ran to the bus stop as fast as I could. After 5 minutes, I reached it. I waited a few minutes, but the bus didn't come.

Suddenly, I remembered something. “AHHH! How can I forget? Today is the election. I won’t get any bus service.” I said in frustration and ran toward the metro station.

The next metro would arrive in 3 minutes, and I have only 10 minutes left before I’d officially be late.

“Run Mora, run”

After so much struggle, I finally reached the company. I walked inside and went straight to the reception.

“Miss, What can I do for you?”said the receptionist.

“Oh! Well, this is my acceptance letter for the jewelry designer position,” I said, handing her the file.

The receptionist took the letter and glanced at it, ”Miss, you can take the elevator over there on the 6th floor and meet the manager.”

“Hmm”, I nodded and did as she said.

Finally my confirmation was complete. After all that trouble. I was officially in.

I start my first day of work. I sat on my chair and looked around my desk. It was clean, well organized - just perfect. I was really going to love this job. Finally, my good days were here.

…. after sometime….

“GOOD, very good. I just had to jinx it.” I muttered, frustrated.

“Oh my holy mother, for heaven's sake please let me be happy. Don't give me more trouble.”

For the past five years, ever since I came to India. I've changed at least 30-40 jobs. I don't want to change jobs anymore. I’m losing my temper, but I can't afford to lose it. If I do, it’ll become world wide. I know my temper is the worst.

I've held it in for five years—honestly, that's already a miracle. And now he had to come here, threatening to ruin everything I've worked so hard to hide.

“Oh god! How do I get out of this trouble?” I groaned, pulling at my hair.

“What trouble?”

“Ah! Shit!” I fell off my chair in shock. “Who the f— Who are you?! You really scared the shit out of me.”

Looking clueless she replied, “Oh My Mata, I'm so sorry. I didn't know you were gonna fall!”

“It's okay, it happens. I should’ve seen you coming.”

“No, no, it’s my fault. I was just curious about who the newcomer is. You're trending today, you know.”

She looked genuinely curious. I could see it in her eyes.

“First of all, who are you? And what do you mean, trending?” I glare at her.

“I am Nitika, second top jewellery designer in this department. Nice to meet you.” she said, smiling brightly— her eyes sparkling along with her words.

“I’m Moranna. A newcomer. Nice to meet you too. So, what’s this trending thing you mentioned?”

“Well, in India, it’s super rare to see someone wearing colorful eye lenses. Everyone’s gossiping about you.”

I blinked. What lenses? No one has ever seen people with natural red eyes, have they?

“Hey, these aren’t lenses. This is my real eye color.”

“Huh? Huh?!” she blinked rapidly.

“Yes.”

“OMG! People really have eyes like that?” She was clearly amused.

“Yes, but people with red eyes are one in a million, ” I added.

“Wait—really? You’re one in a million?”

“Yes”

She leaned closer, suddenly serious.

“Since you told me this, let me tell you something. Don’t tell anyone else. Seriously. If people find out, it could get bad.”

“Why?” I asked,confused.

“Sis, you’re in India. People here are very superstitious. Red eyes are often seen as a sign of evil or demons. If they find out, you might be targeted—or worse, it could endanger your life.”

“What?! Seriously? That’s ridiculous!”

“Well… what about you?” I asked.

“Me?” She grinned. “I don’t believe in that crap. I’m different—I’m unique.”

“You are unique.” I smiled back.

I smiled at Nitika. She really was different—from her attitude to her honesty.

"You're not what I expected," I said quietly.

She laughed. "Most people say that, but I'm not trying to be anything. Just trying to survive like everyone else."

I nodded, understanding that all too well.

Suddenly, she leaned in closer, whispering, "By the way, the manager you're meeting—Mrs. Kapoor—isn't exactly... easy to impress. She's kind of a perfectionist."

"Great," I muttered, sarcasm thick in my voice. "Just perfect, My life really can't go on without problems.”

"You’ll be fine," she said, patting my shoulder. "You’ve got something unique. Own it."

Before I could respond, the office door opened. A Sharp women in a charcoal outfit stepped out, looking around with a clipboard in hand.

"Moranna?" She called.

I stood up quickly. "Yes, ma'am."

She looked me over with a slightly raised brow—her eyes briefly pausing at mine. I saw the flicker of hesitation there.

Don’t say it. Please don’t say anything about my eyes.

“Follow me,” she said, voice cool and professional.

I glanced once at Nitika. She gave me a thumbs-up behind his back.

As I followed him down the hallway, I took a deep breath.

This was it.

New job. New people.

Same old secrets to keep.

But something told me this time wouldn’t be like the others.

Something has already changed.

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