The next morning, Mumbai glimmered with post-rain clarity—every leaf sharply green, every shop sign bright. Arohi woke early, that old orphaned feeling replaced by a pulse of calm excitement. Her system's latest reward echoed in her thoughts: a tip-off on an up-and-coming café, ripe for investment.
She brewed herself a perfect espresso (system capsule, obviously), checked Shruti's peaceful sleeping form, and laced up her sneakers—ready for another stride into Queen mode.
The Saffron Art Café was tucked under banyan trees; its patio strung with fairy lights and murals splashed across the low walls. Inside: local artists hanging canvases, college kids sipping filter coffee, a barista with an infectious smile. The scent of fresh ground beans and the low hum of indie music made the air feel…full of beginnings.
Arohi's system pinged:
[Analysis: Café finances healthy but owners overworked. Opportunity to invest for equity and help expand. Impact: local jobs, stable income, and "cool factor" boost.]
She approached the counter with casual warmth.
Arohi: "This place is gorgeous. Do you ever have space for partners—or investors?"
The owner, Priya, blinked in surprise but warmed to Arohi's energy.
Priya: "Honestly? We're dying for a break. The customers keep growing, but…capital, you know?"
They chatted over cinnamon coffee—about dreams, new desserts, art shows and ambitions. Arohi felt her negotiation skill guiding her: listening, affirming, sharing her own story (edited to omit systems and scandals).
Arohi: "I believe in second chances—and in good coffee. How about we talk more? I've got some ideas. And resources."
Priya's tired face lit up.
Priya: "Everyone wants to throw advice, not support. You're different. Let's see what we can do."
Shruti Joins In
Shruti, in a daisy-printed kurta, soon joined, surveying the eclectic crowd, sketchbook under her arm.
Shruti (enthusiastic): "Could I sketch your next mural? This place feels like home already."
Arohi nodded, conspiratorially.
Arohi: "We don't just escape family. We build our own
Back at the Villa: The Rumor Mill Grinds
That afternoon, word of Arohi's "business dealings" reached the Malhotras via a particularly nosy uncle:
Savita Chachi (outraged):"A café? So now she's a businesswoman? When will she learn to settle down!"
Mini (smiling secretly): "Maybe when the rest of us do."
Relatives speculated wildly, some scoffing, others secretly impressed.
By evening, papers signed and partnership sealed with a new friendship, Arohi took a seat on the café's terrace. The golden hour bathed her in light.
Her system chimed:
[Sign-In Complete: Investment Confirmed. Passive income stream created. People skills—Advanced Level—unlocked. Tomorrow's reward preview: custom off-road bike or language course.]
She closed her eyes, smiling at the future stretching wide: new friends, new power, and a life that was finally, thrillingly, her own.
Arohi (journal note):
"Wealth is freedom, but joy is building something no one thought you could—especially when everyone expected you to fail."