Aanya found the missing file in a physical cabinet no one had touched in months — buried beneath old invoices and dusty contracts. She rushed back, brushing loose strands of hair behind her ears, the folder clutched tight.
She knocked.
No response.
Just as she was about to turn the handle, the door opened.
Riaan stood there, tall and impassive, but his eyes flicked downward—briefly, intentionally—to the way her blouse clung to her.
"I said ten minutes," he said.
"I took eight," she replied, slightly breathless.
His gaze lifted to hers. There it was again—that strange tension. The silence between them louder than most conversations.
"Efficient," he said slowly. "And... persistent."
She extended the file. "Just doing my job."
He didn't take it.
Instead, he stepped aside. "Bring it in."
The room was sleek and cold like its owner, filled with matte black shelves and a massive desk that looked like it had never seen a coffee stain. She walked in, heels soft against the carpet, painfully aware of his presence behind her.
As she reached the desk and set the file down, she heard him close the door.
Click.
And for a second, the quiet wrapped around them like a storm before the lightning.
"You're very neat," he said, walking around her to take his seat. "Organized. Controlled."
She stood still. "Is that… a problem?"
"Not at all," he murmured, flipping open the folder. "But it makes me wonder."
"Wonder what?"
He looked up, slowly, eyes dark and unreadable.
"If that control ever slips."
Her breath hitched.
"I'm not sure what you mean," she said, voice lower now.
"No," he said, leaning back in his chair. "You wouldn't."
A silence stretched. Intimate. Almost dangerous.
Then, without looking up again, he said, "You can go."
Aanya turned on shaky legs, but as her hand reached the doorknob—
"Oh, and Miss Verma?"
She glanced back.
He was watching her again.
"If you're going to keep wearing lipstick like that…" His gaze dropped to her lips. "Don't bite it when you're nervous. It's… distracting."
Her heart skipped.
She didn't respond—just nodded and stepped out, the door shutting behind her like the exhale of something unspoken.
Behind the glass walls, she could still feel him watching her.
And inside her chest, something unfamiliar throbbed—equal parts fear and thrill.
She wasn't just his assistant now.She was his target.