THE PRINCE WHO LOVED ME ??

1 month later , 

Hyderabad, 

A woman is sleeping peacefully in her dimly lit room and the shrill buzz of the alarm shattered the quiet of the early morning. Yamini jolted awake with  her eyelids fluttering open in confusion before she reached out to silence the sound. For a moment, she lay there in the dark, her body heavy with the remnants of sleep. It was still too early for the world to be awake, and yet, the day was already pulling her out of her dreams.

She stretched her arms over her head with a soft groan, the muscles in her back loosening as she worked out the stiffness of the night. The lavish apartment was still wrapped in the cool embrace of dawn, the faintest light beginning to seep through the cracks in the curtains. For a moment, it felt as if the world outside was holding its breath, waiting. But that sense of calm never lasted.

With practiced ease, Yamini tied her long  dark hair into a messy bun, the kind of hurried, imperfect style that looked effortless but was anything but. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up, her bare feet touching the cool marble floor. There was something comforting about the simplicity of the routine. She smoothed the creases from the sheets as she made her bed.

Moving toward the window, she pulled back the blinds with a quick motion, and the light flooded the room, bright and unrelenting. From the sixteenth floor , she could see the city come alive. The streets were already bustling with cars, people hurrying to work, the world outside spinning with its usual rhythm. The noise of the city, the honking horns, the chatter from the street vendors, the hum of the traffic somehow, it all felt like background music to her life.

Yamini stood there for a moment, her eyes tracing the chaotic beauty of it all. The city wasn't her home not really but it was as close as she had ever come to belonging anywhere. She wasn't sure whether she loved it or hated it, but the constant motion, the unceasing energy, seemed to match her own restlessness.

She exhaled deeply, pushing aside the thoughts that threatened to crowd her mind. There was no time for that now. She turned away from the window and moved toward the kitchen, starting her usual routine.

The kettle hissed on the stove as she brewed her coffee, the steam swirling upward in the quiet of the morning. Yamini's movements were automatic, she'd done this a thousand times. Coffee first, then her daily preparations. She'd learned years ago how to silence the chatter in her head by focusing on the smallest of details, the things that didn't matter. For her, it was easier to live in the noise, to tune out the bigger questions about life, about purpose. Routine was the key to it all.

She dressed quickly, slipping into a sleek black formal dress that fit her perfectly, nothing fancy, nothing unnecessary. Just business. Just the right look. The dress had become her armor, her uniform for the corporate world she navigated day in and day out.

Her phone buzzed on the kitchen counter, pulling her attention away from her reflection in the window. She grabbed it, briefly glancing at the screen. *9:15 a.m.* She was late, of course. It was a pattern she couldn't seem to break.

She gathered her things her purse, her phone, her laptop bag and hurried toward the door.

With a soft click, the door locked behind her, and she descended the narrow staircase to the lobby of the building. The elevator ride was quiet, the only sound the soft hum of the machinery beneath her feet. When she stepped out onto the street, the familiar smells of the city hit her—freshly baked bread from a nearby bakery, the scent of car exhaust, and the hint of spices from the street food vendors on the corner.

..............

The cool, polished floors of the office building reflected the early morning sunlight as Yamini stepped inside, the door swishing shut behind her. The familiar buzz of activity in the air—the low hum of conversations, the soft tapping of keyboards, the occasional ringing of phones—was as comforting as it was predictable. She'd been coming here for years, and yet, each morning felt the same.

Her heels clicked sharply against the tile floor as she walked past her team, nodding in acknowledgment as colleagues greeted her with smiles and brief hellos. "Good morning, MD!" someone called out. "Morning, Yamini !" another voice rang out from a nearby desk. She offered a polite smile in return, but her mind was already focused on the tasks ahead. 'It's going to be one of those days,' she thought, pushing past the pleasantries.

Yamini's cabin was a sleek, modern space, an open-plan design that allowed a wide view of the office floor but maintained a sense of privacy. She preferred it that way: the room was her fortress, a place where she could retreat into her thoughts and focus on the work that kept everything running.

She set down her bag on the desk, her fingers briefly brushing the surface. There was something almost ritualistic about the way she unpacked her things: the placement of her phone, her planner, the coffee mug she used every day. Everything had its place. Everything was always organized.

Her eyes scanned the desk quickly, picking out a few stray papers that needed attention. As the Managing Director of an advertising campaign firm, her days were a blur of meetings, deadlines, and high-pressure decisions. Creativity flowed through the company, but it was up to her to ensure that the chaos of ideas could be transformed into structured, executable plans.

She adjusted her chair and settled into it, stretching her arms above her head before letting them fall to her sides. The quiet, controlled space of her cabin was a welcome contrast to the chaotic hum of the office outside. This was where she made decisions that shaped the direction of multimillion-dollar campaigns, where her sharp mind was put to the test daily.

Just as she was about to boot up her computer, the door to her cabin opened with a soft click, and her Personal Assistant, Riya, stepped inside. Riya was in her late twenties, sharp, efficient, and always well-dressed. She carried the weight of the office's smaller but crucial operations, keeping things running smoothly with an almost uncanny level of organization.

.............

How's the chapter ? 

Yamini is introduced . 

How these two individuals are going to meet eachother ?