Sunlight pooled on the cool marble as Arohi stirred her third cup of Italian coffee, courtesy of her mysterious system. Somewhere, downstairs, the symphony of morning—caterers shouting, steel serving spoons clattering, aunts herding siblings in crisp kurtas—reminded her she was in the thick of a family preparing for a grand spectacle. Yet in her room, time held its breath.
She flipped open her phone (sleek, oddly untraceable now—the "System" discreetly handling all her calls and balances). The family group chat was ablaze:
Dad (diplomatically): "Arohi beta, guests have come early. Don't keep them waiting."
Savita Chachi (in all caps): "WHERE IS SHE? Has anyone seen her make-up kit? Bridal blush gone!"
Cousin Amit (voice message): "I'll drag her down myself if someone doesn't send her up by 9."
Arohi glanced at her new face in the mirror—clear skin, mischievous eyes, hair tied in a loose pony, and those developing abs she'd admired last night. Her system pinged again:
[Sign-in complete: ₹20,000 shopping voucher credited. Self-defense skills—basic level—activated.]
She hid a smile. Downstairs, the chaos was peaking, but for her the morning felt crisp and wide.
A gentle knock. Mini peeked in, tray in hand.
Mini: "Arohi di, I brought breakfast. Chachi said to feed you, but she's too mad to come up..."
Arohi grinned, made space on her desk, waving Mini in like a conspirator.
Arohi: "Bless you. Someday you'll be CEO. Or at least Prime Minister's PR head."
Mini, giggling, laid out fluffy puris, tangy aloo sabzi, and a cup of lashings of sweet chai.
Mini: "What will you do? Everyone's so angry."
Arohi (winking): "Eat, for starters. You?"
They ate together, sharing sly smiles, listening as the noise below escalated.
Mini (whisper): "If I had money, I'd run away to Goa."
Arohi (confident): "Maybe you'll get there. Now pass the pickle. I think Chachi's yelling summoning a storm."
A moment of soft silence—unexpected calm before the storm. Mini lingered, looking up to her cousin with the wide-eyed awe of someone glimpsing an escape route.
Before the duo finished breakfast, another text buzzed—Shruti, the "misfit" cousin.
Shruti (text): "Can you rescue me from the sari folding squad? Meet in the back garden?"
Arohi tapped the reply—quick plan forming.
Arohi (text): "Operation Breakfast Rebellion: meet in 10. Wear running shoes, bring sunglasses."
Down below, Bhushan's family had arrived, gold-laden and pompous. Sweets piled high, velvet boxes exchanged on velvet trays. The matriarchs traded knowing looks. But there was one problem: where was the bride?
In the Back GardenArohi met Shruti by the banana plants, both glancing over their shoulders.
Shruti (nervous): "If Chachi catches us running, she'll kill us."
Arohi (sarcastic): "Then we'll haunt the next family function."
They made their dash, weaving through linen-draped tables and scowling aunties. One almost caught Shruti's duppatta, but Arohi twirled her away, both dissolving into giggles.
Near the gate, their luck changed—the gateman stopped them.
Gateman: "Where are you girls going? Big event today."
Arohi (deadpan): "Emergency: need more ghee for the halwa."
Shruti (playing along): "...And Chachi said it must be Amul, not local!"
The guard hesitated, then relented. Arohi grinned, whispering to Shruti as they slid past:
Arohi: "Never underestimate the power of halwa panic."
They slipped out to the street, Mumbai's morning noise swallowing them. The system's sign-in reward had included an Uber voucher—Arohi summoned the car, heart pounding not with fear, but adrenaline and scrappy delight.
Shruti gazed at her, awestruck.
Shruti: "Most girls dream about big weddings. You're escaping yours with a smile."
Arohi (warm, wry): "Everyone dreams different. Mine's got coffee, cash, and the best cousin in the world."
The cab pulled up, and the girls bundled in, the villa receding behind them. For the first time, Arohi felt the world spin with possibility—not as a soap heroine, but as the architect of her own chaos.
The family, meanwhile, was in full crisis mode:
Bhushan's Mom (outraged): "She's missing? In our family, girls don't step out unescorted!"
Amit (grim): "She can't hide forever. We'll find her."
But Arohi had already decided: today, she'd taste freedom and let her family scramble for a bit. With Shruti at her side and mystery rewards to claim, who knew what kind of queenly life was waiting just outside their gates?