Love, Lies & Lattes

The next morning brought a brisk chill to the Delhi air and a dull ache to Kiara’s temples. She blamed both on overthinking. By the time she walked into Brew-tiful Days, Meera was already fiddling with the espresso machine, humming a Bollywood heartbreak song far too dramatically for 8 a.m.

Kiara raised an eyebrow. “Someone’s feeling emotional.”

Meera turned with a smirk. “Someone's hiding secrets.”

Kiara groaned. “Not this again.”

“Oh please,” Meera said, tying her apron. “You’ve been brooding like a heroine in a black-and-white film. Did he do something again? Did you do something again?”

Kiara busied herself with unpacking pastries. “Nothing happened.”

“That’s the problem,” Meera quipped. “With that much tension, something should’ve by now.”

Before Kiara could retaliate, the café door chimed.

A courier stepped inside, holding a neatly wrapped box with a golden sticker: Espresso Empire.

Kiara frowned. “For me?”

The courier nodded, dropped it on the counter, and left.

Suspiciously, she opened it. Inside was a single espresso shot in a sealed glass vial with a note:

“A peace offering. Or a dare. Depends on how you take your coffee. – R”

Meera peeked over her shoulder, eyes wide. “Is this... flirting?”

Kiara shook her head. “It’s bait.”

“Yeah, but like... hot, caffeinated bait,” Meera grinned.

Kiara picked up the vial, turning it between her fingers. The aroma was strong, bold, and unmistakably Espresso Empire’s signature roast. She didn’t want to admit it, but the man had good beans.

“So?” Meera asked, arms folded. “You going to respond?”

Kiara stared at the note again. Peace offering or dare.

She didn’t smile, but the corner of her mouth twitched.

Without a word, she scribbled on a post-it, stuck it to a freshly baked espresso brownie, and walked it across the street herself.

When she entered Espresso Empire, heads turned—half-curious, half-stunned.

Rohan was behind the counter, laughing with a staff member, but his expression froze the moment he saw her.

She walked straight up, placed the brownie on the counter, and pushed the note toward him.

Then, calmly, she turned and walked out without a word.

Rohan opened the post-it.

“Nice roast. Too bad mine still outsells yours. :) – K”

His laugh echoed across the café.

The war wasn’t over. But maybe, just maybe, the rules were starting to change.