The clink of spoons in coffee cups, idle chatter flowing between bites of breakfast, the air casual-until the topic changed.
Woman 1 (in a hushed, irritated whisper): "I still can't forget it. She joined few months back... how the hell is she having breakfast with Mrs. Rathod like that? Even the Vice Presidents barely get a moment with her. But she-just a regular employee, joined a few months ago-"
Woman 2 (confused, blinking): "Wait, wait-who are you guys talking about?"
Woman 3 (leaning in, voice low): "That Rida Thakur. The New Project Lead. You know, she joined barely a few months back?And there she was just casually sitting there with the boss's mother, having breakfast like it's some Sunday brunch."
Woman 1 (snorting):"And did you see how comfortable she looked? Not even a hint of nervousness."
Woman 3 (disbelieving): "And she's just what-Project Lead now? So suddenly? People wait years for that spot. But she glides in, gets the title..."
Man 1 (grinning, shrugging): "Maybe she's just... efficient."
Woman 1 (rolling her eyes): "Efficient? Huh. Than explains why the boss hasn't fired her yet. He never spares anyone. She must be... special. I've seen people more capable struggle for that position. Something's up. Either she's someone important, or she's playing this game way better than the rest of us."
Man 2 (nodding slowly): "Yeah, you're right... I literally saw Mr. Neil bowing to her. Who bows to a casual employee? That man doesn't even bow to the MD himself.She has some connections with the Rathods. I bet she has. That's why no one's questions her."
Woman 1 (smirking): "Whatever it is... she's not just a normal employee. That much is clear."
Man 1 (agreeing): "Yeah. Rathods don't keep people. They control them. Use them. If she's still here and untouched, it means one thing... She's important."
Woman 3 (soft, venomous murmur): "Exactly...Why else would Mrs. Rathod dine with a nobody?"
Woman 1 (a whisper):
"...Special treatment..."
"...Must be the boss's mist-"
Just then, the glass door swung open with a soft hiss.Time stopped.
Prakhar Rathod...
Black suit. Crisp. Imposing.Dark eyes-Still. Cold. Void of emotion.
A luxury watch catching the light,
Phone held loosely in one hand,
Power wrapped around him like smoke.Silent. Consuming. Absolute.
He didn't speak. He didn't blink.
He simply existed-and that was enough.
The room didn't fall silent..It choked.
Breaths stilled..Spines stiffened..Voices died on tongues..
The men stiffened like prey caught in the crosshairs.The woman who spoke lastly visibly swallows air instead of words.A silence so thick it screamed.
His dark gaze steady on them..
"Finish it," Prakhar spoke in his low, lethally call voice..
That voice wasn't loud.It didn't need to be.It slid across skin like a scalpel-clean, sharp, dangerous
"You were about to say something."
His eyes didn't flinch as he continued,
"I despise unfinished sentences."
His aura vacuumed the noise from the air, sucking breath, courage, and blood from the room.
Woman spoke stammering, trembling, "S-Sir... I... we didn't mean-"
He cuts her off, "You won't mean much when you're jobless."
A beat. A deadly one.
She gasped, trembling, "I'm-"
"Your termination will be finalized before your next hour," he spoke with finality without acknowledging her.
Woman barely holding herself up spoke, "S..Sir...I'-"
His voice boomed like a thunder wrapped in rage
"GET. OUT."
The words didn't just echo.They struck.
Like a whip across the spine.
She flinched-stumbled-and nearly fell trying to reach the door.
Her heels scraped against the floor as she ran. Yes-ran.
And no one stopped her.
Because everyone else was frozen in place-too afraid to breathe wrong.
Prakhar's gaze turned.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Like a storm surveying its next strike.
His stare swept across the remaining employees like a cold blade.
Every breath in the room held itself hostage..
"The next time any of you dares to open your pathetic little mouths to whisper filth about someone-"
"-you won't just be stripped from this company. You'll be out of this industry. From your damn careers."
He took a step back. Just one.
But it felt like the floor beneath them cracked.With a final warning, voice soft... but cruel..
"And I never warn twice."
And then he walked out..
********
Just as Prakhar Rathod stepped out of the cafeteria, the storm still burning in his veins, he adjusted his cufflinks with precision.
His eyes were steel. His steps calculated.He was walking straight toward the conference room as he had a meeting with foreign investors. An empire to expand.
But rage... rage walked beside him.
CRASH
A soft body slammed hard into his chest.
He jolted a step back-not out of weakness, but instinct.
And then-
Her scent. That familiar jasmine & something eartherly blend.
Her presence. Familiar. Dangerous. Untimely.
Rida.
His wife.
His employee.
The goddamn center of every whisper he'd just silenced.
Her hands pressed against his chest where she'd collided.The moment hung like static between lightning strikes.
Silence.
She looked up-eyes wide. Breath hitched.But there was no fear.
Just that awkward flash of apology in her gaze.
In his mind?
Everything. Everything exploded.
She opened her mouth, voice small, careful, "I-I'm sorry... it was an accident. I didn't mean-"
He cuts her off-"Of course.Of course it was an accident."
A sharp chuckle escaped, bitter.
Mocking.
"Just like it was an accident that you were casually having tea with the Chairperson in the common area.Just like it's an accident that half this office is suddenly choking on whispers they never dared breathe before."
Her body went still.Not because he was right.But because...he was accusing her.Of something beneath the words.Of intentions she never had.
His eyes narrowed, his voice low-coiled and dangerous, "You may have gotten comfortable, Ms. Thakur..."
The name hit harder than he intended.
"...but this is still a workplace. Not your living room to draw attention..Try not to invite gossip you can't control."
Her lips parted slightly-but the words died.What would she even say? That she didn't mean to?
He didn't wait for her to answer.
Didn't look back. Didn't soften.
He just walked past her..But as he disappeared,her breath caught-not from guilt, but from the quiet ache only she understood.
He hadn't just accused her.
He hadn't just humiliated her.
He'd made her a stranger.
Again.
********
Location: 47th Floor - Executive Boardroom
11:02 AM
Vibe: Thick silence. Ice-cold AC. Power tension.
Twenty-something of the company's highest-ranking minds sat at the elongated glass boardroom table - legal heads, PR strategists, project executives, and core leadership - all cloaked in silence.
At the far end, the digital screen glowed with a timestamped Audit trail: 09:47 AM. The red-marked file entry blinked in the system log like a warning shot.
Rida stood quietly to the side, slightly apart from the table, unaware that the storm already had her name in its eye.
Then, the elevator door slid open.
Prakhar Rathod walked in.Not a man - a statement.His dark tailored suit whispered power. His eyes, darker than coal, didn't scan the room - they cut through it.
He didn't sit. He didn't ask.
He owned the room the moment he entered.
No greetings. No pleasantries. He walked straight to the head of the table and stood - tall, still, precise. The kind of stillness that made people forget how to breathe.
Behind him, the screen shifted to a glowing document trail. One name stood out in the metadata: Rathod Corp - R&D Division Upload - 9:47 AM
Rida's department's system ID is on it.
The executives don't even blink..
And then... he spoke.
"Today..."
His voice was low. Controlled. But sharp enough to draw blood.
"...a document blacklisted seven months ago-flagged, sealed, and marked for permanent purge-has been uploaded under this company's official seal."
Silence.
Not a cough. Not a shuffle. Even the AC seemed to hold its breath.
He didn't raise his voice - he lowered it. Made the silence work for him.
"Does anyone here want to guess what that makes us look like to the Board? To our Ministry liaisons? To our international partners?"
Not a single person responded. Heads dropped. Shame hung heavy.
He paced - two steps forward. Controlled. Deliberate.
"We don't peddle confusion at Rathod Corp. We don't accidentally send relics into circulation. This isn't a family-run bakery chain. This is a multi-billion rupee empire watched by ministers, foreign regulators, and more than a half of the damn real estate world."
He spoke after a brief pause, "Either we're playing a joke on our legacy. Or someone in this room has no idea what the Rathod name even means."
Eyes flicked to one another. Some looked to Rida. Some to the screen.
Then-he turned his gaze toward her.
Rida.Her breath hitched, but she didn't flinch. She stood straight. Shoulders taut. Chin up.
He didn't yell.
He didn't need to.He stepped closer with quiet rage in every muscle, "And today...that scrapped, blacklisted blueprint landed in an investor's inbox with a Rathod seal..."
No one moved.
"Ms. Rida."
His tone was like steel wrapped in velvet. Smooth. Deadly.
"Can you explain how?"
She cleared her throat, voice soft but sure, "I was only instructed to drop a sealed folder on the shared drive. I didn't open or review it..I wasn't aware-"
"Miss Rida"
His voice sliced through hers like a scalpel, "This is a corporation, not a college fest. Following someone blindly doesn't excuse being careless..,"
He says sharply, "Just because you weren't aware-you let a scrapped blueprint slip into the system like it was a casual office memo.Something blacklisted... flagged... meant to be buried - and it got uploaded under our seal.Like it was a company brochure.Your department's ID carried it. That means your eyes should have been open. Rathod Corp doesn't babysit its leads."
The room is silent. Executives exchange glances. No one dares interrupt.
He turned toward everyone but his presence beside her was suffocating, "In my company, we build legacies, not excuses. When you carry the Rathod name on your badge," he said, voice low but deadly, "you carry the weight of a legacy that doesn't allow for second chances."
He turned to her again and steps closer, his voice lowering, dangerous, "If you don't know what you're handling, don't touch it. And if your department doesn't train you better, maybe they don't deserve to exist here at all."
The weight of that hit the entire room.
She tried again, quietly.
"Miss Rida Thakur."
His voice now dropped to a cold whisper.
"Let me be perfectly clear. This is the first and last time you will speak in my boardroom without permission.
Not before.
Not during.
Not until I say so.
This is what i haven't permitted in my boardrooms."
She pauses. Her throat tightens.
No one dares breathe.
He turned to the entire table & spoke, "Every single one of you-take a good look at this moment. This is what happens when one second of recklessness isn't checked. One second. That's all it took to tarnish months of credibility. Let me be absolutely clear-this company runs on discipline, not empathy.If anyone here thinks mistakes are tolerable just because intentions are clean, you're in the wrong goddamn tower.If you cannot match the discipline and standards this firm demands-leave your ID at the door on the way out."
He turned to her again stepping closer, lowering his voice, dangerous and calm, "You might be brilliant, Ms. Rida. But brilliance doesn't mean immunity. If you can't guard your team's gate, you've already lost the war."
She meets his gaze, burning but cautious.
"I'm not careless-"
Then, cutting through it, he turned to.the department head, "Didn't you check your server drive before uploading it"
The man stood, clearing his throat. Voice apologetic. "We did, sir. It seems the intern... a new hire... mixed in some old file during the cleanup.It won't happen again."
Prakhar didn't even nod. He didn't blink.
He simply said,
"It shouldn't have happened once."
He walked to the center of the room-
Every step measured. Every second owned.
Then he turned, his gaze scanning the faces before him.
His voice didn't rise.
It didn't need to.
"This isn't about vendors. Or deals. Or money."
He paused. Let the silence settle in.
"This is about perception."
His eyes darkened, gaze hard.
"This is about how this company is perceived by the nation watching us. By the world.."
"One breach...," his tone now clipped, surgical.
"...even a file upload. And they question everything-our process. Our integrity. Our worth."
Then without a flicker of hesitation,
slammed the crimson-marked folder across the glossy surface.
Bold red text: "SCRAPPED."
The sound echoed-sharp, final.
His eyes scanned the room, pausing long enough on each face to make hearts race.
Then, voice like slow poison-, "Let me remind every person in this room ,if the Rathod name gets stained again - even by accident-you will not be standing in this building again."
( The reason of all the mess )
"Shivanta SkyeTown" - a multi-crore, international luxury township project backed by foreign investors and Indian ministry regulations.This project is in final land approval stages, where blueprint files (with mapped property lines, soil data, and environmental clearance) are shared with:
• Urban Ministry
• International investors
• Real estate valuation boards
• Government liasins..
Months ago, Rathod Corp's architecture team drafted an alternate land allocation for Shivanta SkyeTown that included a patch of greenbelt land. The plan was scrapped and blacklisted after environmental clearance issues and ministry pushback. The digital file was supposed to be archived and deleted from all active drives.
A new intern from the architecture team was tasked with cleaning up old files before the big audit, but the intern, overwhelmed and inexperienced, accidentally saved the old, scrapped blueprint to the shared drive. The intern was unaware of the sensitivity and urgency; the file was simply named "Shivanta_Proposal_Final.pdf" - very misleading.
Rathod Corp uses a shared server sync that automatically pulls any file placed in the shared drive into the master project folder, which syncs directly with stakeholders portals for real-time updates during the project's critical phase.
That same day, Rida was asked by her department head to upload a sealed client proposal packet onto the shared server - the same folder where the intern accidentally saved the scrapped blueprint that contains an old, scrapped land allocation map that was discarded due to legal conflicts Without checking every file in the folder (not her job, remember),she uploads the whole packet including the scrapped blueprint file mixed inside.
As soon as the sync happens, investors and government officials see the old, blacklisted map, triggering a huge backlash - they suspect foul play, misinformation, or worse, deception.
Rida did exactly what she was told-upload a folder from her department head, but because of the intern's inexperienced, careless error and the aggressive automated sync system, the forbidden file was pushed to everyone's inbox with Rida's name stamped as uploader.
He had handled the crisis like- silent, swift, and surgical. Reputation intact. Enemies silenced. Empire steady.The empire didn't shake, because its king didn't flinch.
**********
( Rathod Mansion )
Prakhar stepped into his room, the weight of the day still clinging to his shoulders like a shadow.
He noticed it instantly -
Her belongings..
Sent back into his room.The same room from where he had once expelled her without a second thought..
He didn't flinch.
Didn't touch the bag.
Didn't question it.
He knew this would happen.Badi Dadi was coming.
He just walked to the bathroom, rolled his sleeves, and stood under cold water longer than necessary.
The water hit his skin.
But not his thoughts.
He came out minutes later. The room smelled faintly of her perfume now.
Still, he didn't look.
He lay down - one arm behind his head, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
His body was still.
But his mind?
Never quiet.
Never kind.
This wasn't new.
These nights - wide awake at 2 AM with nothing but old echoes crawling beneath his ribs - they weren't born with her.
They'd been with him for years.
Unspoken.
Unshared.
Unhealed.
Whatever happened back then...
He buried it.
But it still clawed at the inside of his chest when the world went quiet.
He didn't know what peace felt like.
Not really.
He'd learned to replace it with performance.
Because sleep wasn't for men like him.
Not the kind who built empires while running from ghosts.
***********
The grand double doors open wide as the white luxury car halts in the porch. Two guards quickly step forward, opening the passenger side with precision.
She's here.
Badi Dadi.
Everyone straightens without being told. The staff stood in two lines, hands folded.Dadi stood at the main door to welcome her..Kanak steps beside her with the silver aarti thali in her hand - brass diya glowing, rose petals placed just right, sandalwood smoke curling into the air.She adjusted her dupatta over her head..Akansha and Shivansh literally ran to the entrance, bickering like stylish children who still feared their school principal.Rida stood behind his mother wearing a delicate soft blush silk saree..The hand-embroidered golden threadwork at the border glistened like frost, subtle and regal.Her blouse - clung to her slender frame, elegance tailored to royalty.Her long hair, flowed down her back in long, black waves.There's a subtle bindi between her brows, matching her soft lipstick - elegant but not loud.Around her neck-that mangalsutra rested against the silk of her saree like an oath carved in silence. In her hairline-a thin stroke of vermillion, light, but loud enough for anyone watching to remember-
She is his.She is married.
And no matter how cold his words, how sharp the storm-she still wears the fire he lit.
She looked like a painting - all serenity and understated richness.
She had taken leave today.
Not because of yesterday's boardroom inferno - no.But because Badi Dadi was coming.And her presence demanded more than work reports or project timelines. It demanded presence, respect... perfection.
She hadn't even seen Prakhar this morning.He'd left early - earlier than usual, in fact. And even if he hadn't seen her today, others did.His absence didn't dim her light.
The car door opened.
And there she was - Badi Dadi.
Dressed in a royal beige silk saree with gold kasab embroidery, layered pearls, having more authority than some CEOs. Her grey hair was tied in a tight bun. Her eyes - unreadable.
Akansha spoke nervously whispering,
"Why does she look even scarier than last year?!"
Dadi gave her a scary glance.
But Rida.Her breath hitched.Not fear.
But weight.This woman carried legacy. And Rida was just learning how heavy that could be.
She came forward & looked at everyone lined up..Mrs. Rathod stepped forward and performed the aarti. Her smile warm, but respectful...The diya flame flickers gently between them.But Dadi doesn't smile.Her face is a perfectly carved sculpture of authority - no warmth, no scowl, just... poised scrutiny.
Kanak softly circles the aarti applied tilak on her forehead..Then she bent down & touches her feet in respect
Badi Dadi placed a hand on her head, nodding silently..
Dadi stepped forward and pulled Badi Dadi into a warm embrace, holding her like a long-lost sister, "Kaisi hai aap, jiji?" she asked softly, her voice full of genuine care.
Badi Dadi gently, placed a reassuring hand on Dadi's shoulder as if to say, I'm alright.
The quiet comfort between them spoke volumes - years of shared memories, unspoken understanding, and the strength of family binding them together.
Then, Rida took two silent steps forward.
She bent down gracefully and touched Badi Dadi's feet. Her forehead rested at the hem of her saree for a second longer than most - not for show, but out of reverence.
Dadi looked down at the her.Placed a light hand on her head..
Rida straightned & stood there silently.
Badi Dadi's gaze moved across her face then from her hair partition filled with sindoor to the humble bindi that rested between her brows to her neck where that dainty mangalsutra resides...Not judging... measuring.
Badi Dadi spoke quietly, "You're the girl."
Rida smiled gently and nodded..
Then, calmly spoke, "Your saree is soft. But your eyes aren't. Good."
For a moment Rida got stilled..A pause followed-a heavy one.Even she wasn't sure what she meant entirely.
Dadi, unfazed, guided Badi Dadi toward the sofa-like this was routine.
Shivansh leans toward Rida & whispers, "That's the Rathod version of a standing ovation, bhabhi.Dont worry!! she didn't insult you. That's her way of giving... a blessing"
Rida blinked once.Twice. Her lips press into a soft smile & exhaled softly..Rida and Akansha followed quietly, with Shivansh just behind.But behind them all, one figure still stood at the main doorway.Kanak lingered at the doorway, her eye soft with longing, silently waiting for her son.She stood... quiet. Proud. Teary-eyed.A part of her wanted to cry. Another part - wanted to hug him tightly..Because for a mother like Kanak, her storm was finally under her roof again.
Badi Dadi sat at the center, her commanding presence draped in authority. Her eyes occasionally darting to Rida like she was a chess piece newly introduced to the board.
Then-
A subtle shift in air.
The faint sound of footsteps.
Rudra entered-broad-shouldered, tall, every inch the powerful Rathod scion. His tailored suit hugged his muscular frame, sharp and commanding, much like his elder brother's presence..
His mother stepped forward with the aarti thaal, her eyes shimmering slightly - not just with the reflection of the diya flame, but with the glimmer of tears she didn't allow to fall.She did the aarti, wards evil eyes off her son. Her fingers trembled slightly as she applied the tilak on his forehead. Then, unable to stop herself - she cupped his face, kissed his forehead, and whispered, "Tu thik hai na, beta...?"
Rudra smiled - a small, almost invisible curve of his lips.He leaned in and kissed her forehead gently and spoke ,"I'm fine Maa..."
She closed her eyes for a moment, soaking in the touch.
Then he moved forward-
Akansha squealed and jumped into his arms before he could say anything.
"Bhaaiiiii!" she giggled.She didn't need to tell she missed him..He knew it..
He laughed lightly, hugging her back tightly, ruffling her hair like she was still ten.
"I missed you too, baccha..."
She made a face, fixing her hair. "You never pick up my calls!"
"Because you video call me during meetings," he said with a smirk.
Next came Shivansh, walking up with a dramatic sigh, arms wide.
"Thank God bhai came! Finally, someone who listens when I blabber. Prakhar bhai treats me like a server ping-keeps timing out!"
Rudra laughed, tapping Shivansh's back warmly.
"You never stop talking, that's the issue."
They shared a quick brotherly hug. That warmth that only brothers who rarely show love openly carry.
Then-Rudra approached Dadi with reverence, bending to touch her feet. She lifted him up gently, her hands resting on his broad shoulders, then slid one hand softly over his head..She kissed his cheeks tenderly, a softness rare for the iron-willed matriarch.
"You okay, Dadi?" Rudra asked quietly, pulling her into a brief, comforting hug.
She nodded..
Without a word, Rudra walked to Rida.
And before she could react-without hesitation, he bent down, touching her feet.
Her breath hitched.
She was Startled-not by the action, but by him.He was older than her. In age, in voice, in every presence he held.
Yet he bowed, like it was the most natural thing to do.
A quiet flicker passed through her mind.
Her eyes flickered to Badi Dadi... then back to him.
But Rudra had already straightened. He didn't wait for acknowledgment. Didn't seek emotion.His face was unreadable, but his message was loud in its silence - Respect isn't about age. It's about the bond we protect.
She remembered-early days, new to the Rathod family, when she once shyly addressed him as "bhai". He had corrected her - "Bhabhi.. Not by age But by relation-you're elder. Just call me Rudra, like Prakhar bhai does."
He hadn't just touched her feet - he'd honoured her place in the family.
Not because of her age. But because she was his elder brother's wife..
Then he turned toward Badi Dadi, whom he had brought all the way. His voice softened - "You fine, Dadi?"
She nodded slowly, eyes proud.
After glancing around the house, he turned to his mother and asked quietly, "Dad?"
Kanak smile softened, her hand instinctively reaching to smooth his hair like she used to when he was a child. "He's upstairs, love. His therapy session is going on."
************
It was already night. The house had settled into silence.
She had just given her father-in-law his medicines & a warm glass of milk.They had spoken for a little while, soft smiles exchanged under the dim yellow lights of the living room.
But now... now it felt hard to move.
Hard to take that next step.
Hard to enter his room.
The clock had struck 10:30.Even if she didn't want to go inside, she had to. Reluctantly, she turned the knob.
The moment she stepped in, that familiar scent-his scent-Dark. Masculine wrapped around her. Subtle. Sharp. Unmistakably him.Her eyes swept over the room. Neat. Cold. Still holding the echo of that evening... when he threw her out without a second thought.
She walked slowly toward the bed, her back to the door now. She tried not to think.But her body remembered-how unwanted she felt that night.
Lost in that storm of thoughts, she didn't hear the door click open.But the moment it did, her body stilled.
She turned slightly, just a glance over her shoulder.
Then-just as if time slowed-her long, loose hair shifted over her shoulder as she moved slightly... revealing a glimpse of her bare back under the blush-toned saree blouse. The soft fabric of her saree clung to her curves like second skin.Her heart gave a loud thud inside her chest. She quickly looked away, pretending not to notice.
He stood at the door for a moment.His gaze freezing the air around them fixated on her tense posture, the way she stood there trying to hide her nervousness.
His gaze raked all over her.
From the top of her head, down the soft waves of her hair... over her exposed back... the delicate fall of her saree... the curve of her spine...her waist.
Not Lustful..
But Sharp.Intense.Unblinking.
The silence between them thickened-charged, but wordless..His eyes scanning her frame like she was something he didn't understand...or couldn't stop looking at.
Slowly, she turned.Her breath caught in her throat as her lashes lifted, just enough to meet his gaze.
Those eyes-Sharp.Deep.Unreadable. Burning.
Their eyes locked for a heartbeat.
Then she looked away blinking her eyes... Instinctively.Her throat worked to swallow her anxiety. She didn't dare hold his gaze for any longer.Something about the way he was looking at her... it made her skin heat, her pulse stutter.
He stepped inside, finally. The sound of the door closing again made her flinch slightly.
Then came his footsteps.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Each one echoed through the silence like a countdown.
And with every step, her heart beat fast..
Louder-
Like it was trying to speak for her.
He said nothing.
Did nothing.
Just kept coming closer.
And she... didn't know whether to move, speak, or even breathe.
Then he stopped.
Right in front of her.
Close. Too close.
His scent. His heat. His silence.
It filled every inch of her senses.
He was very close.Close enough to feel..Far too close to ignore..
She hesitated, then slowly lifted her lashes-
Only to find him already looking at her.
Watching.
Still.
Unmoving.
Her lashes fluttered-just once.
Soft. Unintentional.
Like her body betrayed the tension she refused to show.
She gulped, quickly lowering her gaze, as heat crept up her neck.
But he stepped even closer.
Her eyes widened-shock flaring through her body like a live current.She stepped back-instinctively.
She took a shaky step back-
But the back of her knees hit the bed.She stumbled back & landed softly on the mattress, the saree folding beneath her, breath catching in her throat.
She barely had time to steady herself when he stepped forward.
No warning. No words.
He leaned down slightly, reaching across her-as if to grab something from behind her..She didn't even register what.
The heat of his body brushed against her arm. His scent surrounded her. She looked up-startled. Nervous. Heart thudding so loud she swore the walls could hear.
And then it happened.
Their fingers touched.
A mere graze.
Her soft, trembling fingers brushing against his-warm, calloused, deliberate.
She stilled. Completely.
For a second, neither of them moved.
Her eyes lifted to those grey eyes.
Sharp. Cold. But... focused.
Their gazes locked.
There was a flicker in her expression-a small twitch of her brow.
Uncertainty? Defiance? Panic?
She didn't wait to understand it.
Trying to escape the tension wrapping around her like a second skin, she shifted, hurriedly trying to slide off the bed-to roll toward the empty side.
But just before she could-
He yanked the towel beneath her.
Swift. Unapologetic.
The fabric dragged under her, throwing her balance off. She stumbled sideways, barely catching herself.
She gasped, eyes wide-voice sharp, breathless, "What the-"
Before she could finish, he spoke.Low. Smooth. With that almost-mocking edge, like he enjoyed the mess he caused, "Careful..."
The way he said it-it wasn't a warning.
It was a statement.
A threat.
A game.
Her brows furrowed as she turned to face him completely, still catching her breath from the stumble.But he was already watching her with that infuriating calm- loosening his tie now, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
"Easy there," he smirked, voice dipped in dry amusement.
"Didn't know standing this close makes you lose balance too."
She snapped her head toward him, eyes sharp, chin up tilting in raw irritation.
"Shut up."
Her voice came low, flustered but firm-cutting.
Her gaze didn't waver.
"What do you think of yourself? A hero?"
A pause. Her tone dripped sarcasm as she hissed,
"No... just a bloated Zero who thinks he's bigger than he actually is."
She jerked her head away with a scoff. The burn hung in the air like smoke.
He didn't flinch.
In fact, he smirked wider. Casually, like her rage was the evening entertainment.
Untying his tie, slow and smug, he turned to the bed and threw it across it-like he was unbothered, or taunting.
"Just because you're not the heroine," he muttered, each word measured like a knife,
"doesn't mean I'm the zero."
Mock. Brutal. Proud.
Her jaw clenched. She looked furious like she wanted to throw something back-verbally and physically.
But he didn't even glance.
His fingers popped open two shirt buttons with slow ease.
One. Two.
He loosened the watch from his wrist,
tossed it lazily on the bed beside the tie.
Then-without a word-he pulled the phone from his pocket.
Not with haste.Not with care.
But like it didn't deserve space in his hand anymore.
And dropped it.
A single motion.
It landed on the bed beside the crumpled tie with a blunt thud.
Not harsh. Not violent.
But final.
He looked at her face..
Eyes dark. Deep. Cold as ever.
The kind of gaze that made her spine stiffen without meaning to.
The with a voice low.Mocking.Deadly still.
"Are you going to keep watching this full unbuttoning or...?"
"Yahi kaam reh gaya na jaise mujhe..", She rolled her eyes so hard they almost left orbit.She stormed past him flustered...
But then-his tone dropped.
No mockery. Just ice.
"Samaan leti jao apna."
His back still to her, "Andar closet mein hai jagah...Tumhare sone ki liye."
A pause.
"Yahan... is bed pe jagah to tumhe kabhi milne se rahi."
The words were plain.
But they hit.They hit harder than they had any right to.Her chest tightened...She turned slightly, "Haan haan... jaise main toh mare jaa rahi hoon yahan sone ke liye."
"Mujhe kya pata," he spoke as he brushed past her into the bathroom attached to the closet..
Her teeth clenched..She dragged her suitcase with unnecessary force as glared at the the closet door..
"Ghamandi...Akadkosh"
The word left her lips like a personal curse sent straight to the man's inflated ego.
........
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