Chapter 5 :

28 June, Thursday, 2025

12:50 p.m.

Anvaya's POV

"Congratulations Ms Shaurya for the accomplishment. I guess you're getting better marks than before," Mrs Lavanya said, taking off her glasses, seated on her chair inside her cabin.

I smiled in response, "Thank you ma'am. I'm glad that I was under your guidance, otherwise I might have messed up."

She chuckled, "You're good with words. Okay, one more thing-", she stopped, before turning her laptop towards me, "-it has been personally requested by Mr Oberoi that you go to his place for the check-ups. Since this month's check-up is done, you're going from the next month."

My eyes widened, my heart dropped into the deepest pit of my stomach. I stood on my place, frozen, for another unexpected bomb was dropped on me.

I was already unwilling to see that man for twenty minutes and now I'll have to be at his home too?

Since yesterday he'd been such a bitch to me that I felt like running somewhere far away to avoid this nuisance. Yes, he didn't do anything much but sometimes, it depends on the comfortability in sitting with a person. And with Mr Oberoi, I wasn't comfortable. He didn't provide that comfort two people have on professional basis.

He wasn't like a pervert, but he wasn't a gentleman either.

Who wrote my fate?

"But he's such a nuisan-I mean, h-he's healthy and won't it be invading his privacy if I went there-to his home?" I asked hesitantly, cursing at myself inside my head for the tongue slip. My frustration was at its peak.

I'd be fired even before I became a permanent doctor.

She looked up from the laptop to me, frowning, "Had it been about privacy interruption, he wouldn't have requested it. Are you okay Ms Shaurya? You seem bothered when I talk about Mr Oberoi."

My eyes slightly widened, "No ma'am. It's just that I fear I might make him upset so I was just saying that."

I couldn't find a better pretext.

"Had he been unsatisfied with you, you wouldn't have got the letter of appointment," she stated the obvious reason, ultimately framing me as the fool.

I was really going crazy because of the way I was fumbling with my words like a dumb head. I was coming up with weird excuses, logicless points to dodge the request and what not.

I wasn't thinking straight.

A sigh echoed inside my head.

"Okay ma'am, I'll go. It's good that I've got to take care of his health and bring a good reputation to the hospital," I replied in defeat, smiling weakly at her.

She nodded with a proud smile, before handing me an appointment letter. She's being extra nice from yesterday.

"You'll get your advance payment by today," were her last words before I exited the room.

Entering my cabin, I sat down on my chair and opened the envelope.

It wasn't a normal one, rather, the white envelope contained a cherry red paper with white letters printed on it.

Nyx Solutions

Human Observation Division

Level 34, Blackstone Tower

Ashgrove District, London

Date: 28th June, 2025

To: Dr. Anvaya Shaurya

Mumbai City Hospital

Maharashtra, India

Subject: Confidential Appointment - Monthly Health Oversight

Dear Dr. Anvaya Shaurya,

We write to you not as employers, but as observers of something that shifts beneath the surface.

Under Clause 9.7 of our executive wellness mandate-and by instruction neither public nor entirely spoken-you have been selected as the attending cardiological consultant for Mr. Kaaryaksh Oberoi, our Chief Executive Officer.

This is not a position advertised. It is extended.

Mr. Oberoi does not come to hospitals. He does not sit in sterile waiting rooms. He will not answer to numbers on doors or be summoned by receptionists. You will go to him. To his home.

Once every month-precisely, not optionally-you will conduct your evaluation within the perimeter of his estate. The exact address will be disclosed privately upon your acceptance. Punctuality is vital. Formality is irrelevant. You may bring your stethoscope, but leave your assumptions at the door.

This is not merely a matter of blood flow or cardiac rhythm. This is about how you behave too lies under. He is a man of many silences and few indulgences. Do not expect answers. Still, you must listen.

Understand this: your role is to observe what cannot be charted. To measure what he withholds.

Confidentiality is not a request. It is the architecture of this arrangement. Any deviation from silence will have consequences-not printed ones, but real ones. You will feel them before you see them.

A private line will follow once your agreement is confirmed. You have 48 hours to respond. Not more. Not less.

The advanced payment will be made on the very day of receiving this letter and a separate salary will be provided every month.

We are not merely confident in your discretion. We are counting on it.

Sincerely,

M. L. Wren

Director of Personnel Affairs

Nyx Solutions

Contact : @nyxsolutions.uk

The whole letter read weirdly mysterious and somewhat like a warning. The way each and every word was written, I could understand that they were written with complete consciousness and clear intentions.

But why'd someone write like that?

Moreover, why'd the letter come from London when his company was based in India? Or was I missing out on something?

This man was someone really mysterious and weird. That day his cold and straight stare and today this letter-he was really something.

Folding it back into the envelope, I typed an e-mail to Nyx Solutions, agreeing to carry out the monthly heart health check-up of Mr Oberoi. I had no other choice left anyway.

Typing the e-mail, I sent it and closed my laptop, before falling back against the backrest.

He was handsome, undoubtedly. But he wasn't a man to be attended with calmness and undivided attention, because he was quite rude. He wasn't verbally rude, or in a straightforward way, but he was somehow.

I just can't explain.

Sighing, I sat back straight on my chair and let the patient get inside, who knocked on the door around 20 minutes later.

The door opened but it wasn't a patient, rather, a person dressed in all black. Even the face had a mask and he was wearing a black cap. Hands were covered in black gloves too.

"Ma'am, the parcel is from Mr Oberoi. It's been requested to deliver this to you," was all he said before keeping down the box on the table and left.

He appeared like a shadow and disappeared like a gust of wind. I couldn't even ask who he was and why I was delivered some parcel. He moved almost like a robot. It all happened so quickly, in just a moment, that I could barely understand anything.

My gaze fell on the big black box, tied up with a blood red ribbon with a note glued to the upper face. Just my name was written on it.

Taking it in my hands, I untied the ribbon and unwrapped the black wrapper, revealing a black box with two capital cursive letters in golden, printed on the lid-K.O.

It felt oddly weird-from receiving a letter in red paper to receiving an all black parcel delivered by a random man. But the curiosity to see what I was given forced me to open the box.

And the content in it pushed me into a sea of flummox.

There was a structured black corset-style blouse disguised under a fitted, double-breasted blazer. The blazer was made tightly at the waist, hinting at the corset below when she moves. It had a sharp collar, deep V-cut neckline with silk lapels.

There was a skirt too, but of black leather and a black big pouch contained heels from Cesare Paciotti.

I was surprised? Furious? Disgusted?

A note was there too, which read-

Once signed agreement can't be cancelled. You're asked to wear the provided stuff on every month on the day of check-up. Keep the lip shade in deep red and choose rest accessories and makeup on your will.

Your obedience is expected, otherwise, necessary actions will be taken.

Another threat?

Everything was so weird but the disgust I felt won amongst all the other feelings. Everything was okay, like doing his check-up and even going to his home for that but wearing this? No way I was going to do that.

The outfit made me feel disgusted. What was he thinking while deciding something like this for me to wear? Did he really think of me as some fling of his to please his filthy eyes and thoughts?

I thought he was a serious and professional man but I forgot that elite men are mostly filthy minded and disgusting.

I wore such outfits outside but that was highly informal for a doctor.

The stethoscope over the white coat was my identity and they were totally altering my identity just for his needs?

What was I? A toy?

Did he really think I'd agree to wear this and do his check-up? Like there wasn't even a proper reason provided to make me wear this and most importantly, I was going for a check-up and not a strip show.

Glaring at the stuff, I packed them back and moved out of the cabin.

My pace was fast, as I headed outside the building, towards the dumping area.

There I harshly threw away the box inside a bin and glared at it, with my teeth gritted. It doesn't matter how much they cost, to me. Nothing pricey can sum up my self respect.

I'm never going to dress like a stripper just because he demanded that. I can't deny the job offer because that simple decision would fall heavy on the hospital authority and they will cancel my license.

And this will further ruin my career. I won't get a job anywhere and I couldn't afford that. Being a middle class person, I was almost negligible to those rich people so they can ruin me with just a snap of their fingers.

I'm not being harsh or ignorant towards my self respect or value, but practical. I knew I wasn't lying about it.

I'll simply go in my formal attire and do everything necessary and return.

Turning around, I made my way inside the hospital and entered my cabin.

"Fuck his ego. Does he think I'm his servant to obey his such disgusting demands?" I muttered to myself, glaring at the appointment letter.

I wanted to burn it but I couldn't. I'd be punished severely for doing such things because again, that'd harm the hospital's reputation.

Just because I couldn't tolerate such demands, I can't take it to my self respect and deny this offer after accepting it. I can't sit back by saying that I'll manage my life without a job because I've studied and worked my ass off like an ox for twelve years.

I did everything for my dream so just because of such a demand, I couldn't risk my entire career. Such people will appear, and all I'll need to do is ignore them and move on.

Because middle class people have no choice.

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