

I had kept her running these last two days—more work than a single person should handle, but I needed it. I needed to see her limits, her cracks. That 0.1% doubt about her intentions still hovered like a shadow I refused to ignore. Ever since Kiaan appeared, I couldn't take risks. Not with Black Crown. Not with me. Not with her.
This morning, I arrived earlier than usual. She was already here. Of course, she was. Seated at her desk, head bent, typing like her life depended on it. Piles of files surrounded her—my deliberate doing. I'd instructed the peons to drop five years of data on her desk and ordered her to organize and digitize everything. Brutal, yes. Necessary, even more so.
At exactly 12, I called the cafeteria. "Send tea to Miss Avleen's cabin. Extra sugar. And her lunch—strictly vegetarian." I'd noticed the pattern. She never ate if left to herself. Foolish. Dedication doesn't mean starvation.
By 3 p.m., I called her in for updates. The knock came—three times, her signature rhythm.
"Come in," I said, not looking up right away. But when I did, something stalled in my chest.
She was in her usual Indian attire—a lilac straight suit, lemon-stone earrings catching the soft office light, and silver anklets announcing every step. That sound, which used to irritate me, was oddly... familiar now. Like a rhythm that belonged here.
"Status? Hotel cost and updates. How much reduction so far?" I asked, keeping my tone clipped.
She moved closer to my desk, arms full of files. Bangles chimed softly as she set them down. "Sir, the cost reduction is close to 18% now. The vendors agreed to adjust once we capped the creative liberties."
Her voice was steady, but something else caught my eye—her right hand. She kept shifting it, hiding it behind the dupatta, using her left hand more than usual. Odd.
"Why are you hiding your hand, Miss Avleen?" I asked.
She stiffened. "Nothing, sir."
"You're lying," I said, looking straight at her.
"I'm not-," she said too quickly, glancing away.
I leaned back in my chair, letting a slow smile curve. "Miss Avleen, Don't force me to make you show it."
Her lips pressed into a thin line. She shifted the files again, clearly trying to escape the topic. I decided to change tactics. "It's nothing serious, sir."
"Hmm... so what's serious? The fact that you're short enough to be mistaken for a school intern, or the fact that you think you can hide things from me?" I said casually.
That did it. She shot me a glare. "Excuse me? I am not that short."
"From this angle, I can barely see you over the desk?" I let out a soft chuckle. The irritation in her eyes was something else.
She looked at me, shocked, blinking rapidly, as if she didn't believe what she was hearing. "Sir-"
"And here I thought your height might be why you're so fast at work-less distance to cover between the desk and the floor." I teased her again.
She trembled in anger, as she whispered with a flat face, "Kya kaha aapne... main short hoon... Nahi, aap lambe hain."
(What did you say... I am short...no, you are tall.)
That's it. She got angry. Now this girl will definitely say something in anger and her hand will come forward. You are fucking smart Eshank.
I continued to tease her, "I am proud of being tall, Miss Avleen. Kam se kam... tumhari tarah... dusro ko proof toh nahi dena padta ki main kitne saal ka hoon. Prr aapko toh bina valid documents ke koi 18+ bhi nahi samjhega."
(Atleast... unlike you... I don't have to give proofs to others about my age. But, without valid documents, no one will consider you 18+)
Her face turned red with barely contained fury as she said, "Aapka kya matlab hai main bachi hoon..." Her finger trembled as she pointed at herself.
(What do you mean, i am child...)
"Haan... ismein koi shaq nahi hai. main tumhe hi BACCHI kaha hai." To make her more angry I called her baby, quoting with my fingers and jackpot.
(Yes... there is no doubt about it. I called you 'baby')
And here she started her rambling in anger, " India mein ladko ki average height-" I wasn't hearing what she was saying, my focus was on her hand.
But what caught my attention was her last line, "Mer gardan ka dard hain aap." I was amused at her line. Waah main abb gardan ka dard ban gya hoon...waah main kahi migraine toh nahi... Eshank...keep your composure... iss ladki ke saath rehte rehte..main bhi iski jaisi baatein karene laga hoon.
(You are the pain in my neck.)
(Wow, I am her neck pain now... Wow I am migraine? ... Eshank keep your composure. Being with this girl; I have started talking like her.)
"Tumhari gardan ka dard... main hoon...?" i said, continued teasing her.
(The pain in your neck... is me... ?)
And finally, She moved her hands unconsciously, gesturing as she spoke, and there it was—her right hand slid onto the table for a second. I didn't waste the moment.
Before she could pull back, I leaned forward, looking in her eyes. "Distraction works wonder, doesn't it?" I said.
Her eyes widened. "What distraction—"
I looked at her trambling hand on my desk, and the moment she caught my gaze, her eyes widened. My hand wrapped around her wrist firmly but not harshly. I knew she would try to pull back. but I never gave her that chance. "Why is your hand trembling?" I asked, my voice calm but leaving no room for lies.
"It's fine, sir." She tried to tug her hand back and after a few seconds, I loosened my grasp and let her pull her hand back.
"If it's fine, then why is it trembling? moreover you tried to hide it in your dupatta. Why?"
"Umm... sir. It's... because... maybe I overused my hand... that's why."
Overused it? That was the best she could come up with? I studied her face—nervousness written all over it. There was something here. Something she wouldn't say.
"Okay... you can go back to your cabin," I said. I let her go because I know she won't reveal it. Stubborn.
I watched her leave, the sound of her anklets fading down the corridor. That tremor... it bothered me more than it should have.
"Miss Musibat," I said quietly, after she left. "You're a terrible liar. Whatever this is, it's definitely not 'Just typing.'
I left the office at 10 p.m., but something made me pause near the glass wall. There she was—still working, her head bent over those files as if the world outside didn't exist. Even from that distance, I could sense her exhaustion, the slump of her shoulders, and the strands of hair falling across her face. I wanted to tell her to stop and to go home, but I didn't. Not yet.
By the time I reached Black Crown's private elevator, I had already made a mental note. The guards knew their orders—protect her, no matter what. And follow her, wherever she goes. Not just because of Kiaan, but because she is unpredictable. She's hiding something, and I hate not knowing.
----------------------------------------
Home was quiet, too quiet. I changed into joggers—nothing else, because today I don't want the weight of clothes when I sleep. But sleep was not even an option tonight. I turned on the home theater, connected to the office CCTV feed, and there she was again, in my space yet far from me.
She was a whirlwind of motion—typing, sorting, and cross-checking files. Her hair was falling into her face, and she kept tucking it back absentmindedly. Her bangles caught the faint light. That trembling hand—I couldn't stop thinking about it. What was she hiding?
At 12 a.m., she was still working. I called the guard twelve times to check on her. It wasn't just suspicion; something about her weariness unsettled me. I don't like things I can't control, and Avleen Kaur is exactly that—a puzzle with missing pieces.
Finally, she packed her bag, stacked the files neatly, and left. The moment she crossed the outer gate, I leaned back in my chair. My man was already following her—two reasons: to find if she's a mole or a threat and to protect her if she isn't. That's the irony of it all. I don't even know which side of this line she's on.
Her hand. The tremor. It didn't feel like exhaustion. It was too involuntary, like something deeper, something she didn't want me to see. And that ridiculous excuse—"overused my hand." She doesn't lie well. That's the problem. Or maybe the solution.
I turned off the CCTV, went through a few mails, and was about to sleep when my phone buzzed.
"Nikunj's man," I thought immediately. I answered, my tone sharp. "Speak."
"Sir," his voice was low but steady, "after leaving the company, Madam went straight to City Hospital. I followed her inside, but she went into some ward. I'm unable to find which one. I asked at the reception, but they're not sharing information."
A flicker of something ran through me—irritation, curiosity, maybe even concern. "Stay there," I ordered. "Don't move. Follow her discreetly. I want every detail."
"Yes, sir."
The call ended, but my mind didn't. Why the hospital? Was she unwell? Was it her hand? Or someone else? A family member? She never talks about her life. She keeps everything locked tight, as if the world doesn't deserve to know. And I hate that. She will drive me insane with these half-truths.
I tried to sleep but couldn't. Images of her kept flashing—the trembling hand, the tired eyes, the stubborn tilt of her chin when she lies. She's like a maze, every turn leading to another dead end.
-------------------------------------
Next morning, I woke up, stretched myself and got up from the bed. I went to my bathroom, took a shower and as soon as I came out my phone rang. I was still standing half naked, a towel hanging low on my hips. I walked towards the night stand to pick up my phone.
I saw it was the same man.
"Sir," he said, "Madam left the hospital early morning. She went to her apartment. I followed her."
"Okay. Keep an eye on her." I said coldly.
Then I started getting ready for the day. After getting ready, I went downstairs and had my breakfast with family. Aanya and Eky's usual banter and laughter filled the table.
After wishing them - have a good day. I left for work. But my mind still stuck on her. Her trembling hand. Her hiding things. Her pain. My mind full of her. Only her.
---------------------------------------
My car stopped outside my office building. The valet saw me, he came hurriedly. "Good morning, sir." He greeted me as he opened the door for me. I gave him a curt nod as I came out of the car. I adjusted my blazer, and gave him the car keys. "Park it. carefully." I said, my voice rigid. He gulped and nodded.
I walked towards the building, the security and other's didn't dare to meet my eyes. Their head bowed down. In respect. Nahhh In fear. And I love this fear.
Everyone greeted me, and their voice low. Good they know I don't like noise. In return, I either gave them a curt nod or nothing at all.
I reached my cabin. I opened the door and walked inside. I took off my blazer as I moved towards my desk. Walking behid my desk, I pulled my chair a little back and put the blazer on the backrest of the chair. Then I settled down on it.
To keep Miss Musibat busy her table is already piled up with stack of documents.
After a few minutes, my phone rang again. Without wasting a moment I picked it up and said, "Speak." my voice low, but full of authority.
"Sir, After some time, she left her apartment again and is now at Black Crown."
Of course. She came back to work. No break, no rest. Like nothing happened.
I was already at Black Crown when she walked in. I didn't miss the way she moved—calm, collected, as if she belonged here, yet there's always that invisible wall around her. She went straight to her cabin, barely sparing a glance toward my glass office. Dedicated as always.
But something kept gnawing at me. Tomorrow's ball. The biggest corporate and underworld mix event of the year—where every pair of eyes would be watching me, analyzing, calculating. And she... she'd be by my side. I knew her. She wouldn't have thought about a gown. She shifted here just weeks ago, works like a machine, and every rupee she earns probably goes to her brother or that tiny apartment she lives in. She wouldn't have the time, or the money, to think of herself.
Moreover, she took a loan from me. I don't know how is she managing everything.
After som time, I picked up the intercom. "My cabin. Now."
Within moments, I heard her anklets before I saw her. Always that delicate chiming, now no longer noise to me but something I almost wait for. She stepped in, light purple suit today, her hair open, earrings catching the light—simple, understated, but striking. She looked at me with those careful eyes.
"Yes, sir?"
"Did you arrange the gown for the ball tomorrow evening?" My tone was neutral, businesslike, but my gaze stayed on my laptop.
I briefly looked at her, her lips parted slightly before she answered. "Not yet, sir. I will arrange it by tomorrow I will." she couldn't hide the slight tremble in her voice.
Liar. Or maybe just careless. The look on her face was the evidence that she forgot about it. I could see it. The faint flicker in her eyes, the way she tried to keep her voice even. She has too much on her plate, and this ball is the last thing on her mind.
I leaned back in my chair, looked at her, letting the silence stretch for a second. But this time, my gaze stayed on her face "No need. You will be my partner at the ball."
Her eyes widened just slightly—surprise, confusion—but she schooled her features quickly.
"Everything will be company sponsored-the gown, accessories, jewelry, heels, clutch. Advik will have them delivered to your apartment tomorrow. And I'll pick you up. If I'm busy, my driver will come. Don't worry about how you'll get there."
She blinked, hesitated for a fraction of a second, then nodded. "Thank you so much, sir," she said, a little breathless yet her voice contained an underlying relief.
"You are welcome. Now focus." I said, as I straightened my back before diving into my work.
She turned to leave, "How is your hand?" I asked, my question made her froze at her place. She didn't turn back or looked back at me.
"It's fine, sir." She replied. I just hummed. LIAR. Kitna jhooth bolegi yeh ladki? Mujhse nazarein nahi mila paa rahi. Hath mein kya problem hai bataye toh at least. Yehi aadat mujhe iski nahi pasand baatein chuppane ki, dard chuppane ki.
(How many lies will this girl tell? She is not able to look me in the eye. At least tell me what is the problem with her hands. I don't like her habit of hiding things, hiding pain.)
And she left my cabin, leaving with that quiet dignity she always carries, even when I know she's unsettled.
The moment the door shut behind her, I pulled out my phone and called my designer. No room for delay. My instructions were sharp, precise—because this had to be perfect.
"A tight-slit silver evening gown," I said. "Off-shoulder. Fabric that fits like it's made only for her. Height: 5'4". She'll wear six-inch heels. Lean frame, slender waist, bangle size 2.4. Jewelry—bracelets, earrings to match. Classy, nothing gaudy. Comfort is a must. I want her to own that room the second she walks in."
He chuckled lightly on the other end. "Sounds like someone special."
"Stop laughing like a mad person. Just fucking do your job. Deliver everything by tonight at my mansion." I shut him up and hang up the phone. This man always get on my nerves. Isko kya jiske liye marzi dress banvaun main. Paise mil rahe hain naa isko. Agar yeh accha designer naa hota, Mom ko iska kaam pasand naa hota, toh kabka isko shoot kar deta.
(What does it matter to him that I can make a dress for whomever I want. He is getting money, isn't he? If he was not a good designer, if Mom didn't like his work, I would have shot him long ago.)
After this, I got busy with my work again. I started signing the files... but this time carefully. I did not want to repeat the mistake of signing by trusting my lawyer.
----------------------------------------
By afternoon, I noticed she barely ate—a half sandwich, if that. This mad girl. She'll collapse one day if she keeps this up. I sent food, but she's stubborn. Always so contained, like she's afraid of asking too much.
Yeh ladki... kya hoga iska... aise khayegi toh pakka kisi din hawa uda ke le jayegi isko... Pagal ladki.
(This girl... what will happen to her... if she eats like this then one day the wind will surely take her away... crazy girl.)
I was lost in watching her until my phone rang. I picked up my phone from the desk and saw that it was my mom calling.
I answered her call, and slowly said to her, "Mom..."
Mom said, "Beta, come home quickly and don't make any excuses about work..." her voice full of excitement. Aisa kya ho gya aaj? Maa itni zyda excited hain... Pakka baat meri shaadi se related hai. She's the most excited person when it comes to my wedding.
(What happened today? Mom is so excited... it is definitely related to my wedding. She's the most excited person when it came to my wedding.)
I said, trying to avoid this so called wedding conversation, "Mom, But I really have important work in the office..." Mom interrupted me and said, "Come home quickly. If you come home early, your Black Crown Industries will not become White Crown. The sherwani for your sangeet has arrived... Come home quickly..." her voice full of happiness. Before I could say anything, or even think of any other excuse, Mom added, "Come now..." her tone no-nonsense. Then she hung up the call. That means I have to go back home, no matter what.
I sighed and packed my stuff to leave the office. I went out of my cabin and walked to Miss Avleen'd cabin. My hand lingered at the knob, then deciding otherwise, I left from there.
--------------------------------------------------------
As I left early. Because my mother's order's can't be ignored. She was at home with sherwani options for my upcoming sangeet, her excitement a sharp contrast to the storm of questions in my head about Avleen.
When I reached home, The designer was already there, was showing my mom the sherwani options.
As soon as, he saw me entering from the front door, he greeted me.
"Mr. Rai Singhania, the custom made gown you asked for is here." he said, pointing towards the gown, which was placed over a mannequin. "Here are the matching jewellery, heels and the clutch." I nodded.
She will look ethereal wearing this. "Good work. Send this gown and accessories into my room. I told him to leave Avleen's gown in my room? I am officially turning insane. Why? I don't want anyone else to even touch this gown, which made only for her.
He started showing me options for my sangeet sherwani. I was least interested in all this. Finally, he left after mom selected one sherwani of her own choice.
Mom kept glancing at me, giving me that look, which said, "I know you too well, son." My mother noticed, of course. The gown. for Avleen. My PA. Her teasing was inevitable.
"Eshank Raisinghania," she said with that knowing smile. "Getting a gown custom-made for your PA? And from your own designer?"
I didn't even bother responding, just walked past. She can tease all she wants. Let them think what they want. I didn't have time for this.
I know mom. She will tell about this to Aanu and Eky, and they will team up against me. Their relentless teasing will be never ending.
By the time I escaped to my study, the house was quiet. I buried myself in work, but my mind kept wandering back to her. The way her hand trembled yesterday, the lie she told about it. The hospital visit. The unanswered questions.
It was late, almost 11, when I finally shut my laptop. My tuxedo for the ball was ready. Her gown was ready. Everything in place. Yet one thing wasn't—she still remained the one puzzle I couldn't solve.
-------------------------------------------------------
Morning came too early. I woke up restless, already thinking about the pending files. I needed to check a few things before the day took off. I stood in front of the mirror, while I adjusted my cufflinks, I called one of my men.
"Did you see Miss Avleen leave the office last night?" I asked, my tone casual but sharp.
"No, sir," he replied instantly. "She didn't leave. I stayed back till 1 a.m., but she didn't step out."
My brows furrowed. "She didn't leave?"
"No, sir."
I ended the call without another word, but the thought stayed with me. What was this girl doing? Staying at the office all night? She'd already been working herself to the bone these last two days.
I shook my head, grabbing my jacket which was placed neatly on the bed, and went downstairs for breakfast. My entire family was there—Mom, Dad, Eklavya, and Aanya.
"Ah, finally the king arrives," Mom teased, a smile dancing on her lips. "Late nights again, beta? Or are you keeping your PA hostage with work?"
Aanya chimed in, grinning wickedly. "Or maybe, Bhai is taking extra interest in his PA's wardrobe now? I heard there's a gown involved?" I knew it. MOM! I screamed internally but didn't let my facial expressions change.
I glared at her. "Aanya."
Eklavya laughed outright, leaning back in his chair. "It's true, isn't it? Even I heard Mom teasing you about it yesterday."
Dad didn't say a word, just smirked behind his newspaper. The man enjoyed my irritation too much.
I'd had enough. "I'm going to work," I said curtly, pushing my chair back. Their laughter followed me to the door.
--------------------------------------
By the time I reached the office, my mood was sour. I took the stairs two at a time, needing to focus. But as I passed the corridor toward my cabin, I caught sight of something through Avleen's glass cabin door.
I stopped.
The door was locked, but inside, on the floor, she was curled up... sleeping.
I didn't hesitate. I unlocked the door and stepped in quietly. The sight hit me harder than I expected.
She was still in yesterday's clothes. The neat stacks of files on her desk told me everything—she had stayed back to finish them. Even her shoes were off, heels discarded in the corner. Her half-eaten sandwich lay abandoned. Dark circles smudged under her eyes, and she looked smaller, thinner.
This mad girl.
Who works like this? Who sacrifices sleep and food over work?
I walked closer, crouched down beside her. Her face looked so... calm. Innocent. For a second, I forgot she was my employee. I traced a finger lightly along her cheek; her face relaxed under my touch. Something about that stirred something unfamiliar in me. My lips twitched into a brief, involuntary smile before I caught myself.
Is she really this innocent... or just a very good actor?
She shifted slightly, maybe sensing my presence. I straightened immediately, folding my arms, schooling my face back into its usual coldness.
She stirred, stretched like a sleepy cat, then yawned softly. Her eyes opened slowly, and when they met mine, a lazy smile curved her lips. She didn't realise that I am standing in front of her. I chuckled inwardly.
Then recognition dawned. Her eyes went wide. She scrambled to her feet so fast she nearly tripped.
"I—I'm sorry, Mr. Rai Singhania," she stammered, brushing down her wrinkled clothes. "I didn't mean to... I must have dozed off after finishing everything. I—how stupid of me—"
"Avleen."
"—I promise this won't happen again, sir. I was careless—"
"Avleen." My voice cut through her rambling.
She stopped, biting her lip, eyes wide.
"Relax," I said simply. "You've done enough. Take the day off."
Her brows furrowed in confusion. "Why...?"
I gave her a small, almost amused look. "Today's the ball. You'll need time to prepare." I can't directly tell her to go and rest. Because she will think I am showing pity to her, and she won't leave to rest. Itna toh main jaan hi gya hoon tumhe Miss Musibat. Ball was an great excuse to gave her a day off.
(I already know this much about you Miss Trouble.)
Understanding flickered across her face. She nodded. "Yes, sir. Thank you."
She turned toward the desk, maybe intending to take another file.
"Leave it," I ordered. "I'll have someone else do it."
"But sir, I can—"
"I said go home, Avleen." My tone left no room for argument.
She hesitated, then nodded quickly. "Yes, sir. Thank you."
I watched her pack her things and leave. And as always, my man followed her—unseen, silent.
I turned back to my desk, signed a few files. The day was far from over; I had to prepare for the evening, and my mind kept circling back to the girl who hadn't eaten or slept.
Around noon, my phone rang. My man.
"Sir," he said. "Miss Avleen is at the hospital again."
Every muscle in my body tensed. "Follow her."
"She went into a ward, sir. Doctors are speaking with her. I can't see who's inside."
I muttered a sharp, "Damn it," and ended the call.
The next update came as I was finishing paperwork.
"Sir," he said, "she's left the hospital. Now she's at her apartment."
"Fine," I replied. and hang up the call.
Then I called Advik and said, "Collect the gown and everything else from my mansion and deliver them to her apartment."
"Who?"
"I know, you know. Don't play fucking dumb, Advik. Do as I say and... feed her too." I said, my voice laced with underlying concern.
Advik said, from the other side, 'Little one... She didn't eat? How careless she can be? I will stay back with her until I make sure that she is well fed and fine."
"Okay." I said and hang up the call. I know he will take care of her.
----------------------------------
By the time I reached my mansion, I was half an hour late. My family was scattered about their routines. I went straight to my room, stripped off the day, and stood under a hot shower until the tension left my shoulders.
When I came out, a towel hung low on my waist. The tuxedo waited, perfectly pressed. I dressed quickly, adjusted the cufflinks. My reflection was every inch the man people feared—and respected.
The driver had already left to pick Avleen. I left the mansion to reach there with my gaurds and Advik.
When I stepped into the gala, the shift was immediate. Heads turned. Conversations faltered. Even the most powerful men in the room straightened. My presence, my aura—it always had that effect. I gave curt nods where necessary, ignored where I pleased.
But my mind? My mind was already on one thing—how she would look when she walked in.
I was standing near the bar, glass of bourbon in hand, watching men in tuxedos exchange fake smiles and empty words. The usual. These people feared me, respected me, but at the end of the day, they were all the same—hungry wolves waiting for a moment of weakness.
And I never give them that.
My mind wasn't here, though. It was still lingering on the hospital call earlier. What the fuck is she hiding? My jaw clenched at the memory. The girl frustrates the hell out of me. She works like a machine, forgets food, sleep—stubborn as fuck. And now, the hospital? I hate secrets.
I was about to finish my drink when the atmosphere shifted. The music, the chatter, even the clinking of glasses seemed to dim out. All eyes moved toward the massive entrance doors. I turned—and froze.
And then I saw her.
Avleen.
For a second, I thought I imagined her. But no... there she was. Walking in as if she had descended from the fucking heavens. White. Pure white. The shimmery gown hugged her curves perfectly, a thigh-high slit teasing just enough to drive any man insane. Silver heels. A white clutch studded with diamonds. Her long hair fell in soft waves, brushing her bare shoulders. Minimal makeup, just enough to make her glow under the chandelier lights.
She wasn't trying to steal attention. But every goddamn soul in the room was drinking her in. And for the first time in a long time... I was too.
She looked like a sin. A dangerous temptation wrapped in innocence.
Her gaze was on her phone as she walked in, oblivious to the chaos she just caused. Then she looked up and realized every single pair of eyes were on her. She froze for a fraction, cheeks flushing pink. I watched her scan the crowd, and something in me tightened when I thought, Is she searching for someone?
Is it Kiaan Malhotra?
The thought alone had my grip tightening around the glass, ready to shatter it. But then her eyes landed on me. And she smiled. That small, nervous yet soft smile that hit me in a place I didn't know existed.
And she walked straight to me.
"Good evening, sir," she said, her voice low, sweet, like a melody cutting through the noise.
I nodded. "Good evening, Miss Avleen."
I extended my elbow to her, so that she can hold on to me. She hesitated, then slowly, her arm slipped into mine, soft and warm. We walked into the center together. The moment she held onto me, every hungry stare turned cold. Every whisper died down. And fuck, I loved it. I loved the way fear rippled through the room just because she was with me.
Power. Control. My favorite fucking drug.
People started greeting us. I gave them my usual curt nod. I don't waste words on parasites. But then I heard her soft chuckle.
"Sir," she whispered close to my ear, "talking doesn't have tax. Don't just nod. Reply to them. You sound... rude."
I tilted my head, catching her amused eyes. "And what if I like sounding rude?"
She rolled her eyes slightly, a move so subtle most wouldn't catch it. But I did. And for some goddamn reason, it amused me.
As the evening stretched, I noticed the men. The way their eyes lingered on her slit, her lips, her every move. Lust. It was dripping off them. They thought I didn't know. Fools. I see everything. I have eyes everywhere.
I placed my hand on the small of her back, firm, possessive, and protective all at once. She stiffened slightly but didn't pull away. Good.
And then he came.
Kiaan Malhotra.
The snake himself. Sharp suit, sharper smirk. His eyes locked on Avleen the moment he walked up to us. She froze when she saw him, her shoulders tensing. She whispered, "Sir..." under her breath. Her grip tightened on my arm slightly.
"Hello, Mr. Rai Singhania," Kiaan greeted, voice dripping with mockery.
I gave him a slow, cold nod. "Kiaan."
"And this must be your PA," he said, his gaze sliding over her like she was prey. "Hello, Miss PA."
Avleen didn't reply. Not even a fake smile. She just looked away, jaw tight, and excused herself as her phone rang. Interesting. She hates him. She didn't even acknowledged his presence.
"Where do you find such people, Rai Singhania?" Kiaan asked as she walked off.
I swirled the liquid in my glass lazily. "What do you mean?"
"These... incorruptible people. It's a rarity in our world." He smirked. "We all try to buy each other's men to plant moles, but you... you've built a clan that doesn't even blink for money."
"Say what you're trying to say, Kiaan."
His smirk widened. "As an enemy, I'll admit—I'm jealous. I offered your PA one crore. Just one job—feed me your information. But she refused. Said she doesn't choose sides. She works for what she earns."
Every word sliced through my doubt like a blade. The 0.1% suspicion I still had—gone.
"I knew she needed money," Kiaan continued. "Since the day she joined, we followed her. She sold something to a jeweler and came back with cash. Desperate girl. But she didn't take my offer. These... kind of people are rare."
I set my glass down, leaning in slightly, my voice ice-cold. "So, you're admitting you tried to buy my employee and plant her against me?"
He chuckled, unfazed. "If an enemy has something worth complimenting, one should give credit."
"Noted," I said, a dark edge curling around my words. "Enjoy the party while you still can."
Kiaan gave a mock salute and walked away.
I turned to find Avleen—and what I saw had my blood boiling. Some fucker had her cornered near the far wall, blocking her path, pestering her despite her obvious discomfort.
Enough.
My stride was calm, but every step echoed like a warning bell. People moved out of my way without me saying a word. As I moved closer her, I heard them.
"It's just a dance, Beautiful. Anyway... you look-" his eyes racked up and down her body.
She tried to move from the other side, but his hand nearly brushed hers as he blocked her path again. "Just a dance, gorgeous." he tried again. She looked uncomfortable, her voice soft but firm when she said, "I'm sorry. I don't know how to dance."
The idiot chuckled like he didn't hear a damn thing.
When I reached them, I didn't speak. I just stood there, towering, lethal. The man looked up and went pale instantly.
"Move," I said, voice like death. "You heard the lady. Back off."
Avleen exhaled shakily, eyes darting up to meet mine. "Sir, I—"
I didn't let her finish. My hand wrapped around her wrist, firm but not painful, and I pulled her closer, my voice low enough only she could hear.
"You really have no idea what kind of danger you walk into, do you?"
Her breath hitched. "I—I didn't—"
"Shut up," I murmured, my gaze boring into hers. For the first time tonight, my chest felt lighter. She wasn't a mole. She was just... Avleen. Stubborn. Loyal. And completely unaware of the storm she's in.
And fuck, I didn't know whether to kill her for making me doubt her... or lock her up so no one else ever gets a chance to.
I stood between them and said. "Stay a mile away from her if you want to walk out of here on your legs."
He scrambled away like a rat running from fire. Good choice.
I turned to her. She was still tense, clutching her clutch like it could protect her from vultures. I exhaled slowly, then extended my hand toward her. My tone, calm yet commanding. "May I?"
Her wide eyes lifted to mine, confusion swimming in them. Sir? Her lips parted as if the single word could explain everything she felt.
"Will you dance with me, Avleen?" My voice was soft this time, dangerously soft, because the truth was... I wanted this more than I should.
She stammered, "Sir... I really don't know how to dance."
I smirked faintly. "Just follow my lead."
For a moment, she hesitated. Then, with a small breath, she placed her hand in mine. Small. Warm. Delicate. A contrast to my own calloused palm. The moment her skin touched mine, a strange current shot through me. Irritating. Unwelcome. Yet... addictive.
I guided her onto the dance floor, placing my other hand gently on her waist. She stiffened, like a deer in headlights, and I leaned down just enough to whisper, "Relax. Breathe. You're safe."
She nodded quickly. I moved us to the rhythm, leading with precision. She tried to mimic, and for someone who claimed not to know how to dance, she wasn't half bad. When I twirled her suddenly, her surprised giggle broke through the music—and damn it, that sound... That sound hit something in me I didn't want touched.
I stared at her. Really stared. The way the chandelier lights played on her gown, her hair brushing her bare shoulder, those eyes meeting mine like she wasn't afraid... God, what was this?
Then came the signal for a partner swap. A man—another bastard who thought he could touch what's mine—stepped forward. No. Not happening. Wait- Mine? I... I always call her mine unconsciously. I gave gone crazy I guess. She is mine. My employee. That's it.
The second his hand extended toward her, I spun her again, faster, and pulled her flush against me. The move was smooth, deliberate, and everyone around us knew exactly what it meant. She's with me. She is Untouchable.
I didn't give a damn if it broke the rules. I wasn't letting her go.
No one dared question me. Not in this world. Not here.
She whispered, breathless, "Sir... why didn't you let me switch?"
I looked down at her, my jaw tight, my voice low enough for only her ears. "Because here, you are my responsibility. I won't let them look at you, let alone dance with you. Never."
Her eyes widened, confusion and something else flickering there. But I didn't explain. How could I, when I didn't even understand it myself?
I wasn't supposed to feel this. Possessiveness? For her? Ridiculous. She's my PA. Nothing more. She's efficient, sharp... annoying as hell sometimes—but mine? No. That's not who I am.
And yet, as I moved her across the floor, my hand firm on her back, the heat of her body syncing with mine, I realized something unsettling.
I didn't want anyone else to touch her.
I didn't even want anyone else to look at her.
Why? I didn't know.
And that... that scared me more than any enemy in this room.
The music slowed, and the last note faded like a whisper. I let her hand slip gently from mine, though some stubborn part of me didn't want to. She looked flushed, almost glowing under the golden lights, and I was aware of too many curious eyes on us. I ignored them.
Dinner was a blur—high-end cuisine, idle chatter with business allies—but my focus kept drifting to the woman beside me who was trying too hard to blend into the background. After greeting the host and giving the usual pleasantries, we made our exit. My driver opened the car door; my convoy of SUVs and bikes followed behind, as always.
The night was calm—until it wasn't.
We had barely crossed the second signal when I saw the blur of headlights in the rearview mirror. Bikers. Too many, too close. My instincts screamed before the first bullet rang out.
Crack. Crack.
The sound sliced through the night. My men in the escort vehicles responded immediately, gunfire exploding on both sides. I kept my face expressionless, but my mind calculated every move.
Avleen stiffened beside me, frozen. Her knuckles turned white as she clutched the seatbelt. A strangled sound left her lips, like a scream stuck in her throat.
"Avleen, bend down. Now. Don't lift your head." My tone left no room for argument.
She hesitated for half a second, then obeyed, folding herself as low as she could.
A bullet shattered the rear glass. My driver swore under his breath, window rolling down as he aimed his gun. The vehicle jerked as he fired, taking down four bikers. Then I saw it—a flash, a shot—
Bang!
He went still, head snapping back, blood misting the air.
The car swerved. I didn't think. I moved at the front of the car. I moved the body of my dead driver on to the passenger seat and I grabbed the wheel with one hand, keeping the other on my gun.
Avleen's terrified voice cracked, "Sir!"
"Keep your head down!" I barked. My own pulse was steady, but my teeth clenched.
I drove one-handed, firing at shadows, my bullets hitting metal, flesh, rubber. Two more bikes went down. But then I pressed the brakes—and nothing. Dead.
"Damn it. Brakes are gone." My knuckles whitened around the wheel. A cold rage settled in my chest. This wasn't random. This was planned.
"Fuckers planned this well," I muttered, slamming the horn and swerving to miss a truck. "They want me dead tonight."
Avleen's muffled, trembling voice: "Sir... what do we do?"
I spared her a glance. Wide eyes, pale face. Fear—but she wasn't screaming. She was holding herself together.
"When I say jump, you jump. No questions. Understood?"
Her breath hitched. She nodded, silent.
I turned the steering wheel towards the bikers and I pushed the accelerator instead of slowing. The car roared, eating the distance. I could see their formation tightening ahead of us.
"Eshank—" Her calling my name from her lips, for the first time. It felt smooth, velvety like honey.
"No talking. Just trust me."
Her lips sealed. Brave girl.
When we were close enough to feel the heat of their exhaust, I jerked the wheel and shouted, "Jump!"
We leapt.
The world blurred. Asphalt scraped my shoulder, the impact stealing my breath. I rolled, dirt biting into my skin, and when I finally stopped, I heard the thunder of an explosion.
Hey lovelies,
I know I am late with update. I am very sorry about that. It's that my state was under flood situation and due which there was poor network connection. That's why I couldn't despite trying to do the same for many times. Now, fianlly the situation is stable so here is the update. I hope you will enjoy this chapter. Let me know your views about the chapter in the comment section. Don't forget to Like and Comment.
Thank you! Have a nice day!
Mili.

Write a comment ...