"ARSYEELA RENGGANIS PRAMATYA!! WHAT KIND OF TROUBLE HAVE YOU CAUSED THIS TIME?!"
The deep voice echoed through the grand colonial-style house.
Arsyeela froze at the doorway, still wearing her work shoes.
"Hhh… What now? I just got back from the branch office. I haven't even stopped anywhere."
She stepped inside. Her gaze met that of a stern middle-aged man standing in the living room — Arseno Dimitri Pramatya, her father, the head of the family and the principal heir of the Pramatya–Wijaya business dynasty.
A stack of photos flew from his hand, scattering across the floor at her feet.
Photos of her — in a well-known bar — taken from clearly staged angles.
"This is what you call hard work?!" Arseno barked sharply. "Gina already told me she warned you not to go there! You're a disgrace!"
Arsyeela held her breath. That woman again…
"You always believe her, don't you?" she said, her voice trembling with restrained anger. "Just once, can't you ask me first? What's the point of assigning bodyguards everywhere if you're only going to believe whatever Ginandra says instead of their reports?"
Arseno's face hardened. "I put bodyguards on you because I know you can cause trouble anytime you want. This family's name is too big to be tainted by your recklessness!"
"And yet, you still trust your cousin more than your own daughter," Arsyeela shot back bitterly. "Why can't you ever trust me, Pa?"
Footsteps echoed from the stairs.
Renjana Arum Wijaya, her mother, appeared — calm-faced but cold.
"How could your father trust you, Arsyeela, when you once ordered those bodyguards to lie for you?" her tone was flat, but it struck deep.
"That was years ago, Ma." Arsyeela looked at her mother wearily. "All the old guards have been replaced. Can't you give me a chance to prove myself?"
Renjana didn't answer. Her empty gaze seemed to pierce right through her.
"Enough. No more arguing," Arseno cut in firmly, turning to his wife. "Where are you going, Ren?"
Renjana picked up her handbag from the table. "You already told me last week, Sen. There's an opening ceremony for the new mall branch in the elite district. It starts in two hours."
"Ah, right. I almost forgot." Arseno turned his sharp gaze back to Arsyeela. "We'll finish this talk tonight. And speed up the launch of your new product. We can't let Angga's division outpace us. Understood?"
Without waiting for her reply, they both hurried off — in separate cars, as always.
Efficiency, they'd say. But to Arsyeela, it was just another excuse for the distance that had long existed between them.
She watched their backs disappear beyond the gate, then let out a long, bitter sigh before heading upstairs.
In her room, she dropped herself onto the bed.
The white ceiling blurred before her eyes.
Her head spun, replaying the incident at the bar.
Who was actually targeting me?
And how did Ginandra know I was there?
"Arghhh!" she screamed into her pillow, frustrated.
"Damn you, Ginandra… if this is just about competing for a tender, it makes no sense."
Flashback — The Night at the Bar
Her phone buzzed.
A message from Nina, her personal secretary:
"Ma'am, Mr. Juna agreed to sign the deal. But the meeting place is a bar of his choice. What should we do?"
"Why a bar?" Arsyeela muttered.
But eventually, she replied:
"Accept. You're coming with me."
Hours later, neon lights glowed above a luxurious bar entrance.
"Nin, which room are they in?"
"VIP 3, Ma'am," Nina said after checking her phone.
Tap… tap… tap…
The click of Arsyeela's heels echoed against the wooden floor as the VIP door opened.
"Good evening, Mr. Juna. Sorry if we're a bit late," Nina greeted politely.
"Just call me Juna," the man replied with a crooked smile. "We're off the clock now. Arsyeela, right? Mr. Pramatya's daughter. Finally, we meet."
The way he looked at her made her skin crawl.
"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Juna. Shall we go straight to the contract discussion?"
"Of course." He patted the sofa beside him. "Have a seat here. It's more comfortable."
Arsyeela chose the chair across from him instead, keeping her distance.
Juna's tone turned slick, his questions drifting off-topic.
"Do you come to places like this often?" he asked, swirling his whiskey.
"Places like this?" she repeated flatly.
"Bars. Lounges. People like you usually have… certain preferences."
She stared him down coldly. "We're here to discuss business, not personal preferences."
Juna chuckled lowly. "Headstrong. Just like every Pramatya I've met."
When she tried to end the conversation, his hand brushed her wrist.
Instinctively, Arsyeela pulled away.
"If you don't mind, let's continue tomorrow — when you're ready to speak professionally," she said coolly.
Juna's eyes darkened. "You think you can just walk out of here?"
Nina, sensing danger, pretended to take a phone call. "Sorry, Ma'am. Urgent matter from the branch office."
That was the signal — time to run.
But before they could move, two men appeared at the door.
Waiters? No. Juna's bodyguards.
Arsyeela straightened her back. "This partnership is off."
She brushed off Juna's hand one last time, shoved the door open, and bolted down the bar's stairs.
Heavy footsteps thundered behind her.
And that's when she ran into someone.
Her balance faltered, but the man — without hesitation — caught her.
His hand rested on her waist. Warm. Steady.
"Help me," she whispered in panic.
And to hide her face from the pursuers, she moved closer — their faces inches apart.
The bar door slammed open behind them.
"Where did that slut run off to?!"
Arsyeela held her breath.
The stranger said nothing, standing tall and still — a human shield.
When the footsteps finally faded, she stepped back and quickly pulled a wad of cash from her purse.
"This is compensation. Sorry for the chaos."
Without waiting for a response, she walked away.
But as her black sedan drove off into the night, one thought struck her hard—
Those eyes… I've seen them before.
The Next Morning, 8:30 AM
The Pramatya Group headquarters towered majestically under the morning sun.
Each step of Arsyeela's heels echoed across the marble floor, followed by respectful nods from employees as she passed.
Her expression was calm, but her mind kept replaying flashes of last night.
Those eyes… that man.
Something about him felt too familiar.
The elevator doors slid open. She stepped in, still on the phone discussing a project report.
When it stopped at the fifth floor, she exited briskly toward the division office.
"Good morning, Ms. Arsyeela," several staff greeted her.
"Morning," she replied curtly.
Moments later, Ms. Ajeng from HR appeared, bringing someone along.
"Ms. Arsyeela, this is the new employee joining your team starting today."
Arsyeela turned —
—and the world seemed to stop.
Him.
That polite smile, those calm yet sharp eyes — identical to the man from last night's bar.
Maintaining her composure, Arsyeela said, "Welcome to the team."
"Thank you, Ms. Arsyeela," he replied, his tone too calm… too aware.
Adrian Kusnadi.
A name that suddenly sent her pulse racing.
"Well then, let's proceed with the project briefing," she said, forcing her focus back to business.
But throughout the meeting, her eyes kept straying toward him.
That new guy… wasn't a stranger.
And somehow, she knew—
this was only the beginning of something far more chaotic.