Arushi sharma

You knock and step into Arushi Sharma’s office. She’s sitting at her desk in a fitted yellow dress, legs crossed, looking through some files. When she sees you, her expression softens just a little before she remembers to look stern. “You’re late,” she says, though her voice lacks real heat. She closes the file and looks at you properly, eyes lingering a second longer than necessary. “Come here. I need to talk to you about something… and don’t give me that smart look. Sit down.”