The morning light slipped past the hotel curtains, brushing Piya's face with a soft glow. She opened her eyes, but her mind hadn't rested. Sleep had been broken—every time she closed her eyes, flashes of the dinner with Liam Asher haunted her. His dark eyes. His voice. The silence that pressed against her chest like a weight she couldn't escape.
She sat up, hugging her knees.
Why do I always end up in these situations? Out of all the employees... why me?
Her heart beat faster even at the memory of the night before. She shook her head, pushed herself to the bathroom, and carefully braided her hair, applying the lightest makeup possible. When she stood in front of the mirror, she didn't see confidence. She saw a girl who looked too small for the world she had just entered.
At breakfast, the room buzzed with chatter. Mary—the intern who had insulted her on the plane—was already showing off, laughing loudly at things no one found funny. Piya quietly sipped her juice, her fork pushing her toast around. She tried to stay invisible, but Mr. Rao leaned toward her and whispered nervously,
"Remember, Arora... today you'll be around the CEO again. Keep your head down. Don't make mistakes. Just... breathe quietly."
Piya gave a stiff nod, though her chest was already tightening.
By mid-morning, their cars arrived. Piya sat beside Mr. Rao in the back, clutching her notepad. She watched the city blur past the window as anxiety gnawed at her.
When they entered the client's tall glass building, a hush fell over their group. Liam Asher was already there. He moved ahead with his secretary by his side, his pace unhurried yet commanding. The echo of his footsteps was enough to draw every eye.
Piya instinctively bowed her head, her nails digging into the cover of her notebook. She told herself: Don't look. Don't breathe too loudly. Just... exist quietly.
Inside the conference hall, the meeting began. Numbers, projections, and discussions filled the air. Piya tried her best to follow, scribbling down notes, but her attention kept slipping. The air around Liam was different—cold, still, yet charged.
When a senior executive from the client's side fumbled over a chart, Liam leaned back in his chair. His face didn't change, but his voice did. Smooth, deep, and razor-sharp.
"If you want to waste time, waste your own. Not mine."
The words weren't loud. They didn't need to be. The room fell into a suffocating silence, as if oxygen itself had been cut off. The executive's face drained of color, and he stammered apologies.
Piya's palms were slick with sweat. Her pulse raced. Even though she hadn't done anything wrong, it felt like every syllable had pierced her, too.
Now I understand... this is why people respect him, why they fear him. He doesn't need to shout. His silence is louder than thunder.
When the meeting ended, relief washed through her like cool water. She followed Mr. Rao out, her chest rising and falling as if she'd survived a storm.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of documents and arrangements. By the time they returned to the hotel, her body felt heavy.
When evening finally came, exhaustion settled in. Piya returned to her hotel room, dropped her bag on the couch, and collapsed onto the bed with a muffled groan. Her nerves, her panic, her awkwardness—it all spilled out as she buried her face in the pillow.
Staring at the ceiling, she whispered to Mr. Moon through the window,
"Every time I think I can stay invisible... fate throws me in front of him again."
Her voice shook.
And every time, I feel like I'll collapse under his stare.
She curled under the blanket, eyes burning with unshed tears, her heart still carrying the echo of his words in the meeting. Somewhere inside, though she didn't want to admit it, a thought flickered—
Why do his words... matter so much to me?
After freshening up, she tried calling her parents, her voice softening as she shared little bits of her day—leaving out the details of him, of course. She didn't dare bring that shadow into their warm, simple conversations. Asha too got her rant call, where Piya half-whispered how tiring and nerve-racking this trip already was.
Just when she thought the day was finally over, a knock sounded on her door. Piya straightened, confused, and opened it to see Mr. Rao standing there, looking slightly worn out.
"Piya," he said with a sigh, "there's been a development. The negotiations are taking longer than expected. The trip has been extended."
Her eyes widened. "Extended? For how long?"
"Another four, maybe five days. It depends on the progress."
The words hit her like a stone. Another week away from home, another week of being surrounded by unfamiliar people, of sitting through heavy meetings, and worst of all—another week of facing him.
"I—I understand," she managed, her voice smaller than she intended.
Mr. Rao gave her a reassuring nod, reminding her once again to stay professional, to remember that these opportunities were rare, and that she was lucky to even be present here. After he left, Piya shut the door and leaned against it, her mind spinning.
She crossed to the window, pulling the curtain aside. The city lights sparkled against the night sky, alive and endless. She hugged her arms around herself, whispering, almost accusingly, "Just how long will fate keep pushing me into his shadow?"
And though she told herself it was fear, deep down, she knew it wasn't only fear that made her heart beat faster at the thought of those dark eyes finding hers again.