The conference room smelled faintly of burnt coffe. A long oval table stretched across the space, its polished surface covered with open laptops, half-read documents and water glasses that no one had touched.

Screens glowed with maps of the Russia site. No one sat back. Everyone leaned forward.

"And this-our Russian VP is... still not reachable."

The Operations Head's voice was shaky. "His apartment door was found open today. His neighbours said some unknown men were asking for him."

A stunned silence followed, then-

"This is the third halt in ten days. What's the reason this time?" someone demanded sharply.

"The local council claims the land papers need 'additional verification'," he replied, frustration rising. "But unofficially, they're pushing for money under the table."

A low murmur rippled across the room. Chairs creaked. Someone cursed under their breath.

Mark, the head of international operations cleared his throat.

"There's more," he said.

Paper shuffled. Suddenly everyone was listening.

"Our main contractor has pulled out. They're calling the site unsafe," Mark continued. "Two of their trucks were stopped last night by a local group. Windows smashed. Workers threatened."

The Legal Advisor added flatly, "Their legal team has already sent a notice. They won't continue unless we guarantee protection... which right now, we can't."

A heavy silence followed. A silence that normally would have crushed the room.

But Nirvaan didn't react.

He didn't even blink.

He was staring at the table, jaw locked, fingers tapping once, twice-then still.

His mind wasn't in that room.

Not in that building.

It was still in that one moment, one phone call, replaying like a punishment.

"Nirvaan, don't do this to me!"

Her voice had trembled. He heard it now, echoing like she was right beside him.

"You don't understand! I waited the whole day! I planned everything, I-"

He swallowed.

His chest tightened painfully.

"I wore the red dress you bought... I lit candles..." He remembered her voice getting smaller, breaking with each word.

"I cooked everything myself, Nirvaan! Don't do this! Don't!"

His grip on the pen tightened until his knuckles whitened.

"You always have a choice! You just don't choose me! Don't cancel on me! Not today! You can't do this-"

Murmurs in the room rose again, but nothing pierced his trance.

"Nirvaan, who is there? Don't- don't go, don't cut the call, talk to me-"

He had cut the call.

Not because he wanted to.

Because someone from the Russian Embassy had entered the room.

And now-

Now her voice kept looping through his head, hurting more each time.

Hurting in a way no business collapse ever could.

The board members continued arguing about contractors, threats, legal procedures and crisis management.

The meeting finally wrapped up, the tension still hanging heavy in the conference room. Everyone's eyes shifted toward the one person who had been silent the entire time.

Nirvaan.

He blinked once, almost as if snapping out of a trance, then spoke in a calm but distant voice.

"I'll try contacting the Russian embassy. A member there is willing to help us... she said she knows a way around these local complications. Let me discuss everything with her first. I'll update the team after."

There were nods around the table-some hesitant and some relieved. Slowly, the members gathered their files and left the room one by one, Arjun stayed behind, gathering the scattered files and printed maps. Nirvaan waited until the last person stepped out, then turned to him.

"Arjun," he said quietly. "Make a report on everything discussed today. Every problem, every complaint. Cross-check the contractor's notice and attach the photographs of last night's vandalism. I want the full file on my desk tonight."

Arjun nodded immediately. "Of course."

"By morning," Nirvaan continued, rubbing his forehead, "I'll go through it and set a meeting with Miss Kozlov. I'll brief her on everything tomorrow."

Nirvaan's eyes already lowering his eyes to the stack of files, scanning through them.

Arjun nodded. "Of course, sir."

Then he paused and asked gently, "Should I bring the usual coffee?"

Nirvaan, already looking down at the files and scanning through the mess of notes and documents, nodded automatically.

He flipped a page.

Another.

His eyes were moving, but his mind wasn't there.

Half a second later, he stopped.

"Wait," he said quietly.

Arjun looked up.

"Bring a drink instead." Nirvaan closed the file slowly. "Woodford Reserve... on a rock."

Arjun stared at him, surprised. Nirvaan almost never drank-especially not in the middle of work.

But looking at him now... the tense shoulders, the tired eyes, the way he wasn't even breathing properly...

Arjun understood.

He didn't question it.

He just nodded once and left the room, stepping out silently to get the drink the man clearly needed tonight.



Kaushiki sat on the floor beside the huge window. Outside, the city was drowning in heavy rain-sheets of water racing down the streets, car lights blurring into long and trembling lines. Inside the apartment, it was quiet.

Her eyes were swollen and puffy, lashes sticking together from dried tears. She pulled her knees closer to her chest, chin resting on them, staring blankly at the storm outside. Every now and then her breath shivered, like her body still hadn't finished crying even though no tears were left.

The soft patter of footsteps came suddenly.

"Didi!" Sonali rushed out of her room, worry written all over her face. "Are you alright?"

Kaushiki didn't look away from the window. "I'm fine," she whispered, her voice small, hoarse.

Sonali hesitated, then said, "Didi... I have to go. Very urgent." She twisted her fingers nervously. "My Grandfather is not well. Breathing problem again. I have to take him to the hospital. Is it okay if I leave now?"

Kaushiki lifted her eyes and looked at her. There was no expression at first-just emptiness.

Then slowly, she unfolded her legs, stood up, and walked to her room without a word.

Sonali waited anxiously near the door.

After a moment, Kaushiki returned with some cash in her hand. She placed it in Sonali's palm gently.

"Go," she said softly. "Don't worry about me. Just take care of him."

Sonali's eyes softened. She nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Didi. I'll call you once we reach."

Kaushiki only nodded once, as Sonali slipped out, closing the door behind her-leaving the apartment silent again.

Left alone in the silent penthouse, she wandered forward without thinking, almost drifting.

Her gaze roamed over the space-the dim lights, the scattered flower petals on the floor, the candles she had lit hours ago, the dishes that were supposed to make him smile. Everything looked dull now. As if the room itself had lost its colour.

Then her eyes landed on the giant wall photograph near the bar.

It was impossible to miss.

Nirvaan stood in the picture, tall, straight-backed, one hand resting lightly on a black stallion. His expression calm. His presence powerful. The kind of photograph that stopped you from looking away.

She walked closer slowly.

Her steps were soft, the wooden floor creaking under her weight. When she reached the picture, she lifted her hand and placed her fingers on the cool glass. The horse. His arm. His face.

His presence was everywhere in this penthouse. In every corner. In every shadow. This place wasn't hers, she just lived inside his world.

Her throat tightened. She whispered under her breath,

"No matter how much you make the crown fall in mud... the crown remains a crown."

Her fingers slid down the glass, shaky.

"And no matter how much you put a garbage in your head... it remains garbage."

She stared at his eyes in the photograph-sharp, distant and unreachable.

"You know," she continued softly, voice trembling, "there are people who yell and scream at you not to touch them..."

A weak, broken smile touched her lips.

"...and then there are those who don't say a word. They're just... untouchable. As if your touch would rot them."

Her eyes filled again.

"He was that kind of"

Her voice cracked.

"...untouchable."

She leaned her forehead against the glass.

"I touched him," she whispered, a tear sliding down.

"And he became rotten."

The sudden ding of the elevator tore through the silence, sharp and unexpected.

Kaushiki flinched, her heart jumping. She turned quickly toward the sound.

The elevator doors slid open.

Her heart skipped a beat.

And there he stood.

Nirvaan.

Soaking wet.

Rainwater dripped from his hair down his forehead, his white shirt clinging to his skin, almost transparent. His dark trousers were soaked through, shoes leaving small puddles with every shift of his feet. His cheeks were flushed-too pink. His eyes unfocused. He swayed slightly, trying to steady himself.

Kaushiki's lips parted in shock.

"Nirvaan...?" she whispered.

He stepped out, slow, uneven. As if every movement took effort. His gaze kept slipping from her face, then finding it again, softening.

From behind him, he pulled out something-his hand trembling.

A bouquet.

Red roses.

Drenched. Water dripping from the petals.

He held them out toward her like a peace offering.

Kaushiki took one small step forward. Then another. Her heartbeat was loud in her ears, confused and hurting and terrified all at once.

She reached him just as he lifted the bouquet higher.

His voice came out low, slurred, thick with alcohol.

"I... I brought these."

A shaky breath escaped him.

"I am sorry... for my misbehaviour earlier."

He smelled of whiskey. Strong. Heavy. Unmistakable.

Kaushiki stared at him-his wet lashes sticking together, his hair plastered to his forehead, droplets sliding down his jaw.

He looked exhausted.

Destroyed.

And drunk.

Slowly, carefully, she reached out and took the wilted roses from his hand.

Her fingers brushed his.

He closed his eyes for a second, as if that tiny touch melted him.

"Why are you drenched?" she finally asked, her voice small.

Nirvaan blinked slowly, his lashes heavy with water.

"I stood in the rain... to... calm my nerves," he slurred, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

His shirt stuck even tighter to his skin.

"What happened?" she asked, stepping closer.

"I don't want to talk about it..." he muttered, his voice flat, tired. He looked away.

She sighed gently and nodded.

"You said you wouldn't come."

"Yes..." he swayed again, catching himself on the counter edge.

"Then why did you come?" she pressed, confused, hurt, still clutching the roses.

He raised his eyes to hers-and suddenly smiled. Soft. Crooked. Almost boyish in his drunkenness.

"I was out of breath."

He said it like it was the most obvious reason in the world.

Kaushiki frowned.

What?

He didn't explain.

Instead, he walked-no, stumbled towards the fridge, pulling it open with messy movements. Bottles clinked inside. He grabbed a water bottle, unscrewed it carelessly and started drinking straight from it, half spilling it down his chin.

"I needed... oxygen," he said between gulps.

Kaushiki stared at him, stunned.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, following him toward the kitchen and gently placing the soaked flowers on the counter.

He turned toward her slowly.

"I couldn't stay away from you," he whispered.

"So I... dropped my work. And came to see you."

Her throat tightened.

She swallowed hard.

Sometimes you get addicted to things that rot you.

"For how long will you stay?" she asked quietly.

He lowered the bottle slowly.

"For how long will you keep me?"

She scoffed.

"You told me not to visit you anymore," he reminded her, voice low, tired.

"I am going against you and coming here... so tell me, Kaushiki."

He stepped closer.

"How much more time do I get with you?"

Her heart dropped.

"For the rest of my life." she said.

He straightened a little, blinking at her.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

She turned toward him fully, her voice steady even though her chest shook.

"I am not a gold digger, Young Master..." she whispered.

"I am a love digger."

His frowned. Their distance shrank until she could feel his warm breath, tinged with alcohol on her cheek.

She inhaled, then let everything out at once.

"I craved for your love," she said.

"I clung to your love. I have always loved you. That's why I lied. I pretended I only cared about your money so I could hide something more pathetic..."

Her voice cracked.

"That I want your love and not your money."

Nirvaan stared at her like the ground had shifted under his feet.

"What are you saying, Kaushiki?"

She didn't blink.

"I love you."

His heart clenched too hard. His jaw tightened.

"Are you saying..." he swallowed hard,

"...that you never wanted my money...but my love?"

She nodded.

But he stepped even closer.

"Say it."

His voice was rough and trembling.

"I want to hear it from you to believe it."

She looked right into his eyes.

"I never wanted your money," she whispered.

"All I ever wanted... was your love."

Something inside him snapped.

His hands rose abruptly, almost trembling, and he slid one palm along her cheek, the other curling around the back of her neck. His fingers were cold from the rain, but his touch burned her skin.

"Kaushiki..." he whispered, voice breaking.

Before she could answer, he pulled her face up and his mouth crashed onto hers.

The kiss hit her like a shock.

Her mind went completely blank and empty with white noise rushing in her ears.

Her heart slammed so hard against her ribs it almost hurt.

His lips tasted like rain... and whiskey.

She gasped softly against his mouth, and he used that moment to kiss her deeper as gis tongue slid against hers again.

His lips were warm and soft, but the kiss wasn't soft at all.

It was claiming, like he was pouring ten days of frustration and longing into every movement.

Kaushiki's hands flew to his chest, grabbing his drenched shirt. Her fingers slid up to his shoulders, then around his neck, pulling him closer without even realising she was doing it.

He groaned quietly into her mouth like something low, frustrated and relieved as if this kiss was the only thing holding him together.

Her knees almost buckled.

He tasted the sweet mint from the lip balm she had applied earlier.

His thumb stroked her jawline slowly.

The other hand tightened gently at the back of her head, guiding her as he tilted his mouth over hers, kissing like he wanted every second back that he had lost to distance and duty.

Her chest rose and

fell quickly.

His breath hitched each time she kissed him back a little harder.

Her thoughts blurred to just him.

Just this.

Nirvaan's heart was racing too, Her lips tingled from the pressure.

His mouth fit to hers like it was the only place he belonged.

Their foreheads touched for a brief second as he pulled back just enough

Her lips were swollen.

His eyes were dark.