Piya tried to focus on the elegant tablecloth, on the glistening cutlery, on anything but the man sitting across from her. But her eyes betrayed her, flicking up every now and then—only to find his gaze already on her.
His eyes didn't waver. They never did.
Finally, he spoke, his deep voice cutting through the silence like velvet wrapped around steel.
"So...do you always stay this quiet, Ms. Arora?"
Piya nearly jumped at the sound. Her fingers fumbled with the edge of her napkin. "I—I... only when I don't know what to say."
His lips curved—barely a smile, more like the shadow of one. "That happens often?"
She blinked, then stammered, "Sometimes... maybe... I mean, yes."
Liam leaned back in his chair, studying her as though she were an equation only he could solve. His tone was steady, serious, but not intimidating—not in the usual way, at least. "What do you usually do when you don't have words?"
"I... listen," she whispered.
That earned a slight arch of his brow, his gaze sharper now. "Good. Most people talk too much."
Piya pressed her lips together, unsure if that was a compliment or another one of his cool observations. Her heartbeat drummed in her ears, and yet, she felt a strange sense of calm, like his quiet gravity was pulling her into its orbit.
He studied her again, the silence stretching. Finally, he asked, "Is this your first business trip?"
Her head shot up. He wasn't interrogating her—his tone was level, even—but his eyes made her feel as though she were under a microscope.
"Yes," she admitted softly. "I... I've never traveled for work before."
He leaned back, fingers resting against the arm of his chair. "And?"
"And... it's overwhelming," she confessed before she could stop herself. Heat rushed to her cheeks as she fumbled to add, "But I'll do my best. I don't want to cause any trouble."
That faint shadow of a smile tugged at his lips again. "Good answer."
Her chest tightened. She wasn't sure if that was praise or just observation—but the way he said it made something stir inside her.
The waiter returned with the dishes, breaking the tension for a moment. Piya stared at the food—beautifully plated, luxurious. She picked at it nervously, though her stomach was betraying her with hunger. Liam, composed as ever, ate with deliberate movements, occasionally glancing at her.
Every time their eyes met, she quickly looked away.
When the meal ended, Liam rose first, and the driver was already waiting outside. But just as they stepped past the reception area, Piya frowned and tugged at her bag.
"Wait," she blurted. "The bill... we didn't—"
Liam stopped mid-step and turned his head slightly, his dark eyes landing on her with quiet force. "It's my hotel."
Piya's mouth fell open. "W-what?"
"My hotel," he repeated, his tone flat, as if it was the simplest truth in the world. "There's no bill."
Her eyes widened, but then her stubborn panic spilled out again. "But my food—I should at least—"
That was when his gaze locked with hers. Cold, sharp, unwavering. Not angry, not even impatient—just Liam. The kind of look that silenced entire boardrooms.
Piya's words died in her throat. "Okay," she mumbled, shrinking into herself and , quickly nodding and scurrying after him like a scolded child.
Satisfied, Liam said nothing more and continued walking. She trailed behind, cheeks burning, her heart racing faster than her footsteps.
The ride back to the hotel was different from the earlier ones. The atmosphere still carried the weight of Liam's presence, but it wasn't suffocating this time. It was quieter, steadier, as though an invisible thread was weaving between them. Piya dared a glance at him. His profile was sharp, unreadable, illuminated faintly by the city lights passing through the windows.
She felt something stir in her chest—a dangerous something she didn't want to name.
When the car pulled into the hotel, she nearly jumped out. She turned to him quickly, fumbling with her words. "T-thank you... for the dinner... and... and everything."
Her voice shook, but she didn't wait for his reply. She bowed her head slightly and hurried inside the lobby like her life depended on it quick and flustered, like a frightened rabbit.
Liam remained in the car, watching her retreating figure. She moved fast, almost running, as though putting distance would protect her. But he didn't miss the way her hands trembled, or the way she dared not look back.
His gaze darkened, but not with anger. Something else flickered there—interest, amusement, curiosity that he rarely allowed himself to feel. His lips curved ever so slightly, and then, as she disappeared into the elevator, his expression returned to its usual composure.
Inside her room, Piya slammed the door shut and leaned against it, her chest heaving.
"What was that?!" she hissed to herself, pressing her palms to her face. Then, without thinking, she threw herself onto the bed, screaming into her pillow. Why am I like this?!" she groaned, rolling around like a child. Her legs kicked the air as she rolled around, mumbling incoherently.
"I almost died—his eyes! His voice! Why am I like this?!"
She buried her face deeper, her cheeks heating just remembering his stare. "Stop thinking about him, Piya! Stop it!"
But her heart refused to listen. The memory of his composed presence, the calm way he'd spoken, the way he'd looked at her—all of it replayed in her mind like an unending loop.
She finally dragged herself up, freshened up quickly, and slipped into bed. Curling beneath the covers, she whispered, "Just... one week. I just have to survive one week."
Sleep eventually pulled her under, though her thoughts still lingered around him.
In his own suite, Liam loosened his tie, his face expressionless as he answered a couple of late calls. His voice carried the same steady authority, but when the work was done and silence returned, he sat still for a long time.
Finally, he shut down his laptop and leaned back, his mind drifting—not to the deal, not to the meeting tomorrow, but to the girl who had run away from him as if she were fleeing danger.
Dark amusement flickered in his eyes once more.
He closed them, letting the quiet settle.
And just like that, the chaotic day ended.