The boardroom door slid open.

Ruaan stepped out first, expression calm, jaw tight—not that anyone could tell what that meant. He was unreadable by design.

Vedh followed behind him, smile confident, hands tucked casually in his pockets.

“Well, I’ll get going now,” Vedh said lightly.

Ruaan nodded once. “Were the details clear?”

“Oh, crystal.”

Vedh's eyes slid to Arnika, who had been waiting beside Ruaan, files in hand.

“Arni— I mean, Ms. Arnika made every point very… loud and clear.”

Arnika’s grip tightened on her file, but she kept her face blank.

“And,” Vedh continued, “there’s a small welcome party at my place tonight. My uncle insisted. I hope you’ll join us. Both of you.”

His smirk returned, slow and deliberate.

“Be there by 7.”

Without giving them a chance to refuse, he walked off.

Silence lingered a second too long.

Ruaan finally spoke, eyes narrowing slightly at Arnika.

“You look like you had a fight.”

“No, sir. Nothing.” Her voice was calm, practiced.

He stared at her for half a second, curious—but then simply nodded and walked away.

As if feelings were a language he didn’t speak.

That Evening — Party at Rao Mansion

Lights shimmered across the sprawling estate, with expensive laughter floating in the air and glasses clinking like wealth had a sound.

Ruaan arrived first, immaculate in a black suit, expression sharp despite the long day.

Arnika followed a step behind—simple pastel saree, hair tied loosely, subtle earrings.

Not flashy. Not trying. Yet stunning without effort.

Mr. Rao greeted them warmly, shaking Ruaan’s hand and patting his arm like a prized young tiger.

Then Vedh appeared, smiling too wide.

“Good evening, both of you,” he said smoothly.

“I’ll admit I didn’t expect you would actually come.”

Ruaan offered a polite half-smile.

“Why not? We are partners now.”

“Right,” Vedh chuckled. “Since you’re here… let me introduce my wife.”

The world paused.

Wife?

Arnika’s eyes snapped to Vedh, shock tightening her spine.

Wife? Since when? Didn’t he–

Her thoughts shattered when she saw her.

A woman in a silk gown walked toward them, graceful, elegant, carrying an aura of quiet fragility.

“Arohi,” Vedh announced. “My wife.”

Arohi smiled softly at Arnika… but when her gaze reached Ruaan...

Her face drained.

Color fled.

Breath hitched.

Ruaan’s expression didn’t move a muscle.

Frozen. Blank.

The only giveaway was the smallest flicker in his eyes—shock? rage? pain?

Gone before even a heartbeat could catch it.

Arnika’s chest tightened.

What… what was that?

Arohi greeted them, her voice thin, trembling, before quickly looking away.

The air felt heavier after that.

Later in the Party

Mr. Rao raised a toast, boasting about his nephew’s return and the new alliance with Sharma Group.

People clapped.

Champagne flowed.

Music swirled around the glittering ballroom.

But the real storm sat in one corner.

Ruaan hadn’t spoken in twenty minutes.

He sat stiff, jaw clenched, glass after glass disappearing in his hand.

Not the polished CEO—just a man losing pieces of his composure one sip at a time.

Arnika stood beside him, worried despite herself.

“Sir, please stop drinking. You won’t be able to drive.”

He didn’t respond. His gaze stayed locked across the hall—

At Arohi.

At the woman who couldn’t meet his eyes.

Arnika swallowed. Her chest felt tight suddenly.

She didn’t know this story… but something in it burned.

Like betrayal.

Like loss.

Like history that wasn’t finished.

By the time the party ended, Ruaan could barely walk straight.

His guarded pride was nowhere tonight; only exhaustion and alcohol remained.

With a sigh and a muttered curse at fate, Arnika helped him into the passenger seat and drove.

She knew the address—of course she did. Files, late nights, orders.

She had been here many times… only to be kicked out right after delivering work.

Inside the mansion, the silence was huge. Expensive. Lonesome.

Dragging him inside felt like carrying pure cement.

“God, you’re heavy,” she huffed, breathless.

He collapsed onto the sofa, head falling back, hair messy, shirt buttons loosened.

Still annoyingly handsome. Still irritatingly powerful—even when drunk.

He murmured nonsense, head lolling slightly.

Arnika leaned closer, adjusting a cushion behind him.

“Do you… know Arohi?” she asked softly.

His voice came slow, thick, unfiltered.

“She’s my sister.”

Arnika froze.

“She ran away years ago,” he slurred. “Lost contact.”

Sister.

Arohi was his sister.

Arnika’s confusion exploded tenfold.

Before she could respond, her heel caught the edge of the carpet and she stumbled forward—landing right on his chest.

Time paused.

His eyes opened. Drunk, yes… but focused suddenly, right on her face.

For three long seconds, neither spoke.

His stare was intense, unreadable, heat-heavy and vulnerable in a way she’d never seen on him.

Then his lips parted.

“You…” he whispered like it was a confession.

“…look like a cat.”

Arnika blinked.

“What?!”

Heat rushed to her cheeks, mortifying, stupid, unexpected.

She scrambled off him so fast she nearly fell again.

“Good night, sir,” she snapped, adjusting her saree, running out before her heart embarrassed her further.

Outside, she pressed a hand to her face, cheeks burning.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” she muttered, walking away fast.

Behind her, in the silent mansion, Ruaan stared at the ceiling—eyes hazy, fists tight, heart beating like it remembered a war.

And far away, in a quiet corner of the Rao house, Arohi sat trembling… clutching an old photograph of her and another boy smiling on a rooftop.

Her voice cracked in a whisper only the walls heard—

“I never thought I’d see you again… brother.”

And somewhere in the dark, a storm began to turn.

Any guesses?? About what happened between Ruaan & Arohi?

And why does Vedh look just a little too calm about all of this?

To be continued......