The cabin door began to open.

Slowly.

The metallic click of the handle sounded unusually loud in the charged silence.

Anu’s breath froze in her chest.

Arya still hadn’t moved.

His hands were planted firmly on the desk on either side of her, effectively trapping her between the polished wood and the dangerous warmth of his presence. The distance between their faces was still barely a few inches, the tension thick enough to feel like electricity in the air.

The door opened wider.

And then—

Jhende stepped in.

He stopped.

Completely.

His hand still rested on the door handle as his eyes landed on the scene in front of him.

Arya.
Leaning forward.
Anu.
Pinned against the desk.

For a full three seconds, no one spoke.

Jhende blinked once.

Then twice.

“…Oh.”

The single word slipped out before he could stop it.

Anu’s eyes widened in pure horror.

Arya slowly turned his head toward the door, his expression still dangerously calm, though a faint irritation flickered across his sharp features.

Jhende immediately looked at the ceiling.

Then the wall.

Then the floor.

Anywhere except the two people standing dangerously close in the middle of the cabin.

“Ahem,” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Main… galat time pe aagaya kya?”

Anu’s entire face turned crimson.

She tried to push herself away from the desk instantly—but Arya’s arms were still blocking her escape without him even realizing it.

“A… sir… main…” she stammered helplessly.

Arya finally straightened.

Slowly.

Very slowly.

The movement gave Anu just enough space to slip sideways out of the trap, though the warmth of his proximity lingered on her skin like a stubborn memory.

Jhende still wasn’t looking directly at them.

Instead, he had picked up a random file from the table and was studying it upside down with exaggerated seriousness.

“Haan… toh…” he muttered. “Good file.”

Arya exhaled through his nose, clearly unimpressed.

“Jhende.”

Jhende instantly stood straight.

“Ji, Sir.”

“File seedhi pakdo.”

Jhende blinked.

Then looked down.

“…Right.”

He flipped it the correct way, clearing his throat again.

Meanwhile Anu stood near the edge of the desk, trying very hard to look like she had not just been cornered by her boss two seconds ago.

Her fingers nervously adjusted her dupatta.

Arya’s gaze flickered toward her briefly.

A slow, dangerous amusement crept into his eyes.

Then he looked back at Jhende.

“Kya kaam hai?”

Jhende scratched the back of his neck.

“Sir… actually… woh… London merger meeting prep…”

His voice trailed off as his eyes accidentally shifted again toward Anu.

Then back to Arya.

Then back to the desk.

He sighed.

“Sir main baad mein aa jaata hoon.”

Arya’s eyebrow lifted slightly.

“Kyun?”

Jhende gestured vaguely between them.

“Atmosphere thoda… intense lag raha hai.”

Anu nearly choked on air.

Arya’s lips twitched despite himself.

“Jhende.”

“Ji.”

“Jo kaam hai bolo.”

Jhende nodded quickly.

“Haan Sir. Bas yeh kehna tha ki board room ready hai aur… uh…”

He paused.

Then added carefully—

“...aur cafeteria ka news bhi poore office mein viral ho chuka hai.”

Anu froze.

Arya’s expression didn’t change.

But his eyes darkened slightly.

Jhende looked between them again.

“Waise Sir… horizon wala dialogue kaafi popular ho raha hai.”

Anu wanted the ground to swallow her whole.

Arya leaned casually against the desk now, arms folding across his chest.

A slow smile appeared on his face.

“Achha?”

Jhende nodded.

“Haan Sir. Log bol rahe the ki Anu ne Meera ma’am ko seedha philosophical jawab de diya.”

Anu muttered weakly,

“Sir… woh bas…”

But Arya raised a hand.

Stopping her.

His gaze rested on her again.

Warm.

Amused.

And slightly dangerous.

“Bas?”

The same word he had used earlier.

The corner of his mouth curved faintly.

Jhende clapped his hands once suddenly.

“Achha toh main chalta hoon!”

Neither of them looked at him.

Which somehow made things even more awkward.

He slowly began backing toward the door.

“Sir meeting fifteen minutes mein hai.”

He opened the door.

Then paused.

Turned back.

And said with an innocent grin,

“Waise Sir… horizon jab mil hi raha hai toh meeting late bhi ho sakti hai.”

Anu’s eyes widened again.

Arya stared at him flatly.

“Get out, Jhende.”

Jhende raised both hands in surrender.

“Ja raha hoon Sir. Main kuch dekha hi nahi.”

He quickly slipped outside and shut the door behind him.

The cabin fell silent again.

Anu slowly turned toward Arya.

Arya was already looking at her.

That same dangerous glint returning to his eyes.

He pushed himself off the desk and took one unhurried step closer.

“Well…”

His voice dropped lower.

“…ab koi interrupt karne wala nahi hai.”

Anu’s heartbeat instantly started racing again.

And somewhere outside the glass cabin, Jhende walked past the reception desk shaking his head with a grin.

“Office ka horizon aaj sach mein milne wala hai.”

___

The cabin door clicked shut behind Jhende.

For a moment, the room held the faint echo of his footsteps fading down the corridor. Outside, the office buzz had begun to return—phones ringing, keyboards tapping, distant conversations blending into a familiar corporate rhythm.

But inside Aryavardhan’s cabin, time seemed to pause again.

Anu stood beside the desk, her fingers nervously smoothing the edge of her dupatta, the warmth of the earlier moment still lingering on her skin. Her heart had barely calmed down after Jhende’s perfectly-timed interruption.

And now…

It was just the two of them again.

Arya hadn’t moved much since Jhende left.

He was leaning lightly against the desk, arms folded across his chest, watching her.

Not like a boss observing an employee.

Like a man studying something that fascinated him.

Anu could feel his gaze even without looking directly at him.

Finally she spoke, softly.

“Sir… woh cafeteria wali baat—”

Arya raised a hand gently.

Stopping her.

“I know.”

His voice was calm.

Too calm.

That only made her more nervous.

She looked up at him hesitantly. “Sir, main bas—”

“Aasmaan aur zameen.”

He repeated the words slowly.

The same ones she had said to Meera.

Anu froze again.

Arya pushed himself away from the desk and began walking toward the large glass window behind him. His reflection shimmered faintly in the glass as the city stretched endlessly below.

“Tumne socha bhi nahi hoga,” he said quietly, “ki tumhari woh speech poore office tak pahunch jayegi.”

Anu lowered her eyes.

“Main kisi ko hurt nahi karna chahti thi, Sir… par Meera ma’am ne jo kaha…”

Arya turned toward her.

There was something different in his expression now.

Less teasing.

More serious.

“Unhone tumhari family ke baare mein bhi bola.”

It wasn’t a question.

Anu nodded slowly.

Arya’s jaw tightened ever so slightly.

That was one boundary he didn’t like crossed.

He walked back toward the desk again, stopping a few feet away from her.

“Tumhe jawab dene ki zarurat nahi thi.”

Anu finally met his gaze.

“Thi.”

The quiet certainty in her voice made him pause.

“Sir… jab kisi ko galat samajh ke uske intentions pe sawal uthaya jaye… toh chup rehna bhi galat hota hai.”

Arya watched her carefully.

In the office, everyone saw Anu as the soft-spoken, sincere girl who worked quietly without drawing attention.

But moments like this…

showed him another side of her.

Strong.

Unshakeable.

And dangerously honest.

A faint smile touched his lips.

“Tumhe pata hai tumne kya kiya hai?”

Anu blinked. “Kya?”

He stepped closer again.

Not as close as before.

But close enough for the tension to return.

“Tumne Meera ko directly challenge kiya hai.”

Anu’s heartbeat sped up again.

She knew that much.

But she didn’t regret it.

Arya’s voice softened slightly.

“Meera easily peeche hatne wali nahi hai.”

“Main bhi nahi.”

The answer slipped out before Anu could stop it.

For a moment both of them were silent.

Then Arya chuckled quietly.

There it was again.

That fearless honesty.

“Interesting.”

He moved around the desk, picking up a file, though he wasn’t really reading it.

“Waise ek baat batao.”

Anu looked at him.

“Ji?”

Arya’s eyes lifted from the file, locking onto hers again.

“Tumne jo horizon wali baat kahi…”

His tone dropped slightly.

“…woh sirf Meera ko jawab dene ke liye thi?”

Her breath caught.

He closed the file slowly.

“ya… ya phir…”

Another step closer.

“…tum sach mein believe karti ho ki aasmaan aur zameen mil sakte hai?”

The question hung between them.

Not professional.

Not casual.

Deeply personal.

Anu’s fingers tightened around the edge of the desk.

Her voice came out soft but steady.

“Kabhi kabhi… kuch cheezein impossible lagti hai.”

Arya waited.

She continued quietly.

“Par agar dono taraf se koshish ho… toh impossible bhi possible ban sakta hai.”

Their eyes stayed locked.

The air between them felt charged again.

Almost like the moment before Jhende had walked in earlier.

Arya leaned slightly closer.

“Tumhe pata hai Anu…”

His voice lowered.

“…agar tumhari theory sahi hui na…”

She whispered, “Toh?”

His gaze flickered briefly toward the glass walls of the cabin.

Outside, the office floor was clearly visible.

Employees moving around.

People who respected him.

Who feared him.

Who watched him.

Then he looked back at her.

Eyes darker now.

“Toh poora office ek bahut interesting story dekhne wala hai.”

Anu’s heart skipped.

“Sir…”

But before she could say anything more—

A sharp knock landed on the glass door.

Both of them turned.

Meera stood outside.

Her expression calm.

Too calm.

But her eyes…

were burning.

She had clearly come straight from the cafeteria confrontation.

And she had seen something through the glass.

Arya’s posture didn’t change.

He simply said,

“Come in.”

The door opened.

Meera walked inside slowly.

Her gaze moved from Arya…

to Anu.

Then back to Arya.

A thin smile appeared on her lips.

“Sorry to interrupt, sir.”

Her tone carried a subtle edge.

“But I think we need to discuss something… important.”

The tension in the room thickened instantly.

And Anu suddenly realized—

The real confrontation of the day…

had just begun.

“Sir...”

Meera’s voice sliced through the charged silence of the cabin, soft but edged with something sharp enough to draw blood.

She stood in the middle of the room, arms folded lightly across her chest. The posture tried to project calm authority, yet the tension in her shoulders betrayed the storm brewing beneath it.

Aryavardhan didn’t move.

He leaned back against the edge of his desk with quiet ease, one hand resting casually beside the file he had been holding moments earlier. His expression was unreadable, the kind of stillness that made people around him instinctively careful.

“Go on.”

Two words.

Short.

Controlled.

But they carried a clear message.

He had no interest in whatever power play Meera thought she was staging.

Meera’s gaze shifted slowly.

From Arya…

to Anu.

The look said everything without a single spoken word.

Leave.

It was the kind of silent order that most employees in the office would have obeyed instantly.

And Anu understood it too.

For a fleeting second, uncertainty flickered in her eyes as they moved between the two of them. The tension in the cabin felt suffocating now, thick enough to make the air feel heavier.

She lowered her gaze slightly.

“Sir… main—”

She had barely turned toward the door.

When suddenly—

A firm hand caught her wrist.

The movement was swift.

Decisive.

Before she could process it, Arya pulled her back.

The unexpected force sent her stumbling straight toward him.

Her breath caught sharply as she collided softly against the solid warmth of his chest. For a brief second the world tilted around her, the polished floor, the glass walls, everything fading behind the sudden closeness.

Arya’s other hand moved instinctively, steadying her arm as it slid behind her back—not painfully, but with enough quiet strength to stop her from stepping away.

The proximity was shocking.

Anu could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath her palms. The faint scent of sandalwood wrapped around her again, familiar and dangerously comforting.

Her heart began pounding uncontrollably.

Arya lowered his head slightly, his dark gaze locking onto hers.

Intense.

Unyielding.

Commanding.

“Did I ask you to leave?”

His voice wasn’t loud.

But the authority in it filled the entire room.

Anu’s lips parted as she tried to speak, though the closeness made it almost impossible to think clearly.

“S… sir… vo… Me… Meera mam yaha…”

The words tangled helplessly as awareness of his presence overwhelmed her senses.

For a moment, Arya said nothing.

His eyes remained on her face, studying every flicker of nervousness, every breath she struggled to steady.

Then slowly—

His gaze shifted.

Toward Meera.

The atmosphere changed instantly.

If the tension between him and Anu had been warm and electric…

the air between him and Meera turned cold as ice.

“Jo bolna hai jaldi bolo.”

His tone was calm.

Flat.

But there was a quiet warning beneath it.

Meera stood frozen.

For a second she simply stared.

At Arya.

At the way he was holding Anu.

At the fact that he hadn’t even considered letting her walk away.

Something dark flickered across her face.

Jealousy.

Anger.

Disbelief.

“Seriously, Sir?” she said slowly.

Her voice was tight now.

“This is what you’re doing… in the middle of the office?”

Arya didn’t react.

His hand still held Anu’s wrist, steady and firm, his presence shielding her almost unconsciously.

Anu could feel the tension in his body.

Yet strangely—

there was no embarrassment in him.

No hesitation.

Just quiet certainty.

Meera let out a small, disbelieving laugh.

“So the rumors are true.”

Arya’s gaze hardened.

“What rumors?”

Meera gestured toward them sharply.

“This.”

Her eyes burned as they landed on Anu.

“The office is already talking about it. Cafeteria ka drama… horizon speech… aur ab yeh.”

Her voice turned colder.

“You don’t even care if people see this?”

For the first time, Arya’s expression shifted.

Not anger.

Something far more dangerous.

Indifference.

He released Anu’s wrist.

But instead of stepping away—

he moved half a step closer to her.

Close enough that their shoulders almost brushed.

The gesture was subtle.

But unmistakable.

“Office mein log kaam karne ke liye aate hai,” he said calmly.

“Gossip karne ke liye nahi.”

Meera’s jaw tightened.

“And what if they do?”

Arya’s eyes never left hers.

“Then they should make sure their own work is perfect first.”

The silence that followed felt heavy, dense with unspoken conflict.

Anu stood beside him, still trying to calm the wild rhythm of her heart.

Meera straightened slowly.

Her voice dropped lower now, quieter but far more dangerous.

“You’re making a mistake, sir.”

Arya didn’t respond immediately.

Instead, his gaze flickered toward Anu again.

Just for a fraction of a second.

The intensity there softened.

Then he looked back at Meera.

“Meeting room ready hai?”

The sudden shift in topic caught her off guard.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Arya picked up the file from the desk with casual precision.

“Then let’s not waste time.”

Meera stared at him, realization slowly settling across her face.

He wasn’t going to explain.

He wasn’t going to justify.

And most importantly—

he wasn’t going to distance himself from Anu simply because she demanded it.

Her eyes hardened.

“This isn’t over.”

Arya remained perfectly calm.

“Meeting keliyelate ho raha hai, Meera.”

For a long moment they simply stared at each other.

Then Meera turned sharply and walked out, the door closing behind her with a sharp click.

The cabin fell silent again.

But the silence now felt heavier than before.

Anu finally released the breath she had been holding.

“Sir… aapne aisa kyun—”

Before she could finish—

Arya spoke.

Firm.

Steady.

“Kyu ki its not You Vs Meera…”

He turned slightly toward her.

The sharp authority in his eyes had softened, replaced by something deeper.

Something protective.

“…its Us Vs the world.”

The words settled between them like a quiet declaration.

Anu looked up at him, startled.

For a moment neither of them moved.

Outside the glass cabin, the office continued its normal rhythm.

But inside that room, something had shifted permanently.

The invisible line between them—

had just disappeared.

___
The meeting room carried a very different kind of silence.

Unlike Arya's cabin, where the air often turned personal and dangerously intimate, the conference room was designed for authority. Long glass walls, the polished wooden table stretching across the center, the projection screen glowing faintly at the far end—it was a space where decisions were made and power quietly shifted.

Yet today, beneath the professional setting, tension simmered like a hidden current.

Meera stood at the front of the room beside the screen, remote in hand, her posture immaculate as the presentation slides moved forward one by one.

"—and as you can see, the London merger will require a three-phase transition model," she said, her voice steady and crisp, the tone of a senior executive completely in control.

But her eyes betrayed her.

Every few seconds, almost involuntarily, they flickered toward the center of the table.

Toward Aryavardhan.

He sat in the main chair at the head of the table, shoulders relaxed but presence dominating the room without effort. His expression was calm, unreadable, the way it always was during serious meetings.

To his right sat Jhende, half focused on the presentation and half nervously scribbling notes, occasionally adjusting his glasses.

And to Arya's left—

sat Anu.

She had her notebook open in front of her, pen poised as if she were taking careful notes. From the outside, she looked like the most attentive person in the room.

But inside—

her heartbeat hadn't slowed since the moment she entered.

Because Arya was very aware of her presence.

Too aware.

Their chairs were closer than usual, the narrow space between them barely noticeable to anyone else at the table.

But to Anu—

it felt impossibly small.

Meera continued speaking.

"The projected revenue growth in the second quarter—"

Under the table—

something shifted.

Anu felt it first as a light brush against her foot.

Her breath caught instantly.

For a second she assumed it was accidental.

Maybe Arya had moved his leg while adjusting his chair.

She carefully shifted her foot away.

Above the table, Arya remained perfectly still, his gaze fixed on the screen where Meera's graphs changed smoothly.

"—however the financial risk remains minimal—"

Then it happened again.

A slow, deliberate nudge against her ankle.

Anu froze.

Her pen stopped moving.

She didn't dare look at him.

But she knew.

There was no way that was accidental.

Her pulse started racing.

Carefully, she lowered her gaze toward the table, pretending to read something in her notes.

Under the polished surface, Arya's shoe rested lightly against her foot.

Not pressing.

Just touching.

As if testing her reaction.

Anu inhaled slowly, trying to steady herself.

Focus... focus... this is a meeting.

Meera clicked the remote again.

A new slide appeared.

"Here we can see the projected staffing model—"

Under the table, Arya's foot moved slightly again.

This time sliding slowly along the side of her shoe.

Anu's grip tightened around her pen.

She finally dared a quick glance sideways.

Arya was watching the presentation.

Completely composed.

His elbow resting casually on the armrest.

Not a single sign that he was doing anything at all.

If anyone walked into the room right now, they would see the calm, powerful CEO listening to a corporate briefing.

Not the man currently making Anu's heart beat wildly beneath the table.

She shifted her leg again.

Trying to put some distance between them.

But the space was small.

And Arya noticed immediately.

Without even looking at her—

his foot followed.

Lightly touching hers again.

Anu's cheeks warmed instantly.

What is he doing...

Across the room, Meera was speaking with increasing intensity.

"And if we delay the London transition, the entire market opportunity could—"

Jhende leaned toward Arya slightly.

"Sir, I think phase two might require additional—"

Arya nodded once.

"Hmm."

His voice remained calm.

Professional.

Yet under the table—

his foot moved again.

This time pressing slightly against hers.

Not enough to hurt.

Just enough to make the contact unmistakable.

Anu almost dropped her pen.

She stared straight at her notebook now, completely unable to focus on the words.

Finally she whispered under her breath without turning toward him.

"Sir..."

Arya didn't move his gaze from the screen.

"Yes, Anu?"

His voice was perfectly normal.

If anything—too normal.

She swallowed.

"Meeting..."

The single word was half warning, half plea.

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Arya's lips.

Barely visible.

But there.

"Exactly," he murmured quietly.

Then—

very slowly—

his foot retreated.

The sudden absence of contact made Anu's breath release without her realizing she had been holding it.

For a moment she thought he had stopped.

Then suddenly—

his fingers brushed against hers on the table.

Just a light graze.

As if reaching for the same pen.

Anu looked up instantly.

Their eyes met for half a second.

His gaze held a quiet, dangerous amusement.

Across the room, Meera's voice continued explaining financial projections.

But her instincts were sharp.

Something felt wrong.

She paused slightly while switching slides.

Her eyes scanned the table.

Arya looked calm.

Jhende was reviewing notes.

Anu was staring at her notebook far too intently.

Meera's gaze narrowed slightly.

Something was definitely happening in this room.

She just couldn't see it yet.

And somehow—

that made her even more suspicious.

The meeting continued.

Or at least… it looked like it did.

The projector hummed softly as another slide appeared, pale blue graphs reflecting faintly across the polished conference table. Papers shifted, pens scratched against notebooks, and the quiet rhythm of corporate discussion filled the room.

Meera stood at the front, laser pointer gliding across the screen.

“—and if we redirect the Singapore allocation, the London transition can begin earlier than projected.”

Her voice remained controlled, sharp, and professional.

But her eyes had begun watching the table more carefully.

Because something about the atmosphere felt… wrong.

At the center of the table, Aryavardhan sat with the same composed authority he always carried during meetings. One arm rested along the chair, the other lightly touching the file in front of him.

Beside him—

Anu sat rigidly straight.

Far too straight.

Her notebook remained open but her pen hadn’t moved in nearly two minutes.

She was trying very hard to look normal.

But she could feel Arya’s presence beside her like heat.

A dangerous, steady heat.

Jhende, sitting on Arya’s other side, had been quietly making notes when suddenly—

Arya leaned slightly toward Anu.

Just slightly.

The movement was subtle enough that anyone looking from the front of the room would assume he was simply glancing at her notes.

But Jhende saw it clearly.

His pen stopped mid-sentence.

Arya’s voice came low and quiet beside Anu.

“So…”

Anu’s breath caught.

“…presentation mein maza aa raha hai?”

She kept her eyes on the notebook.

“Yes sir.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Across the room Meera continued talking, flipping to another slide.

“And the projected cost reduction—”

Arya leaned a little closer.

Close enough that his shoulder brushed hers.

Anu froze instantly.

“Sach?” he murmured.

Her fingers tightened around the pen.

“Yes…”

But before she could say anything else—

Arya suddenly tilted his head.

And pressed his lips gently against her cheek.

The kiss was quick—

but it lingered.

Not rushed.

Not hesitant.

Just a quiet, deliberate press of warmth against her skin.

For a long moment.

Anu’s entire body went still.

Her eyes widened in complete shock.

Her breath stopped.

For that one suspended second—

the entire room seemed to disappear.

When Arya pulled back, he did it calmly, casually… as if nothing unusual had happened.

His gaze returned to the screen.

His posture relaxed.

Completely normal.

As though the CEO of the company had not just kissed his employee in the middle of a boardroom meeting.

But two people had seen it.

Jhende.

And Meera.

Jhende nearly choked on air.

His pen slipped from his fingers and clattered softly against the table.

He coughed awkwardly, grabbing his water glass in panic.

“Kh—kh… sorry…”

Arya didn’t even glance at him.

But a faint shadow of amusement passed through his eyes.

Across the room—

Meera had gone completely still.

The remote in her hand stopped moving.

She had been turning toward the screen when she caught the movement from the corner of her eye.

Arya leaning close.

Too close.

Then—

that Kiss.

Her entire body stiffened.

For a split second she couldn’t even continue speaking.

The jealousy that flashed across her face was sharp enough to cut glass.

But she recovered quickly.

Too quickly.

Her voice resumed.

“—as I was saying… the cost reduction model will significantly improve long-term profit margins.”

But the words now carried a faint edge.

Because while everyone else in the room remained focused on the presentation…

Anu sat frozen in her chair.

Her cheek was still burning where his lips had been.

Her heart racing so violently she was sure someone would hear it.

She didn’t dare look at him.

Didn’t dare move.

But Arya leaned slightly back in his chair beside her.

Perfectly calm.

Completely composed.

As if nothing had happened.

Except—

his fingers slowly slid across the table again.

Resting lightly against hers.

And this time…

he didn’t move them away.

The meeting continued.

Or at least… everyone pretended it did.

The projector light flickered softly across the table while Meera resumed explaining the next slide. Her voice had regained its professional steadiness, but the tightness around her jaw betrayed the storm inside her.

“—and with this restructuring model, the London team can begin the transition by Q3.”

Her laser pointer moved across the screen again.

But her attention wasn’t fully on the slide anymore.

It kept drifting.

Toward the center of the table.

Toward Arya.

Toward Anu.

Because she had seen it.

That Kiss.

And the calm arrogance with which Arya had simply leaned back afterward as if nothing had happened.

At the table, Anu still sat frozen.

Her cheek burned where his lips had touched.

The sensation lingered stubbornly, refusing to fade. She could still feel the warmth, the quiet boldness of the gesture that had completely shattered her ability to focus.

Beside her, Aryavardhan looked perfectly composed.

His eyes were on the presentation.

His posture relaxed.

One hand rested lightly beside his notebook while the other casually tapped the table as if he were analyzing financial projections.

Anyone looking at him would think he was the most attentive person in the room.

Except—

his fingers were still resting against Anu’s.

Barely touching.

But enough to send small shocks through her nerves.

Jhende, meanwhile, had entered full survival mode.

He was staring very aggressively at the presentation slides now, as if the graphs had suddenly become the most fascinating thing in the world.

I saw nothing. I know nothing. I am not involved, his expression practically screamed.

Across the room, Meera clicked to the final slide.

“And that concludes the proposal for the London merger phase.”

She turned toward the table again.

“Any questions?”

The room remained silent for a moment.

Then Arya finally spoke.

His tone is calm.

Professional.

“Good work.”

The two words were simple.

But they carried the weight of approval.

Meera nodded slightly, though the praise clearly did little to soothe her mood.

“Thank you, sir.”

Arya closed the file in front of him.

“Meeting adjourned.”

Chairs began shifting.

Papers were gathered.

Jhende stood up quickly—perhaps a little too quickly.

“Sir main… woh… accounts team ko inform kar deta hoon.”

Without waiting for a reply he escaped the room with impressive speed.

Meera remained standing near the screen, watching the table carefully.

Anu slowly began collecting her notebook and pen, still avoiding Arya’s gaze.

She could feel Meera’s eyes on her.

Burning.

Sharp.

Unforgiving.

Finally Anu stood.

“Sir… main files arrange kar deti hoon.”

Arya simply nodded.

“Hmm.”

She turned and walked toward the door, trying to keep her steps steady despite the chaos inside her chest.

Meera watched her go.

Then her gaze shifted to Arya.

“You’re making this very obvious.”

Arya met her stare calmly.

“Meeting khatam ho chuki hai, Meera.”

His tone made it clear the discussion was over.

Meera’s lips tightened.

For a moment she looked like she wanted to say something else.

But instead she simply picked up her laptop and walked out of the room.

The door closed.

Arya remained seated for another minute, calmly reviewing the presentation file.

Then he stood.

As he passed Anu’s chair—

he paused briefly.

His fingers moved quickly.

Something small slipped onto the table beside her notebook.

Then he walked out of the room as if nothing had happened.

---

A few minutes later Anu returned.

She had come back to collect the documents she had forgotten in the rush of leaving.

The meeting room was empty now.

Quiet.

Sunlight filtered through the glass walls.

She walked toward her chair and picked up her notebook.

Something small slid from between the pages and landed softly on the table.

A folded piece of paper.

Her heartbeat instantly sped up.

Slowly… carefully… she opened it.

Inside, written in Arya’s strong, unmistakable handwriting—

were a few simple words.

“That was just a trailer of the punishment, love…Be ready for the entire movie.”

For a long moment Anu simply stared at the note.

Her cheeks warmed again.

Her heart raced.

And somewhere deep inside—

a dangerous excitement flickered to life.

***