By morning, the mansion looked exactly the same.
Sunlight streamed through the windows.
Servants moved quietly.
Breakfast was served on time.
Nothing felt different.
And that was the most terrifying part.
Riyan stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his cufflinks like nothing in the world had shaken him last night. His face was calm. Cold. Unreadable.
The billionaire mask was back.
If I hadn't seen his hands shaking while reading that file…
If I hadn't seen the fury in his eyes…
I would've believed him.
"You don't say a word," he murmured, not looking at me. "Not a hint. Not a glance. Let them think they're winning."
I nodded. "And you?"
"I'll do what they expect," he said quietly. "I'll be cruel. Distant. Normal."
Normal.
That word tasted bitter.
Before leaving the room, he paused.
"And Aarvi," he added softly, "no matter what I say in front of them… remember this."
He met my eyes.
"I'm acting."
My chest tightened.
"Okay," I whispered.
---
Breakfast felt like a performance.
Riyan entered the dining hall first, his expression icy, his presence commanding as ever.
His mother's eyes flicked to him instantly.
Assessing.
Measuring.
Searching for cracks.
"Riyan," she said, relief barely hidden in her tone, "you disappeared early last night."
"Work," he replied flatly, taking his seat. "Something urgent came up."
Her shoulders eased slightly.
Good.
She turned her gaze to me next, sharp and judgmental.
"And you?" she asked. "I hope you're not wandering into places you shouldn't again."
My heart raced—but I kept my face neutral.
"I stayed in my room," I said softly.
A lie.
But a necessary one.
Riyan didn't even look at me.
"Mother," he said coldly, "don't interrogate her before breakfast. It's irritating."
She blinked.
Not offended.
Relieved.
Because irritation meant distance.
Distance meant control.
Trisha smirked from across the table.
"Oh, look at that," she said lightly. "Back to normal already. Guess last night was just… stress."
Riyan lifted his coffee.
"Don't flatter yourself," he replied calmly. "Nothing about this family stresses me anymore."
His mother smiled faintly.
A satisfied smile.
Because she thought she had won.
I kept my eyes down, my fingers curled tightly in my lap.
Inside, my heart was pounding.
---
The first test came sooner than expected.
As breakfast ended, Riyan stood.
"I'll be at the office all day," he announced. "I don't want disturbances."
His mother nodded immediately.
"Of course."
He turned to leave—then stopped.
"Aarvi," he said without emotion, "don't leave the house today."
The words hit me like a slap.
But I caught it.
This was part of the act.
"Alright," I replied quietly.
His mother's lips curved slightly.
Possessive.
Victorious.
Riyan walked out without another glance.
But the moment he crossed the doorway—
His mother turned to me.
"You see?" she said smoothly. "This is how things should be. Clear boundaries."
I forced myself to nod.
"Yes, Ma'am."
Her eyes narrowed just a fraction.
Good.
She believed it.
---
But upstairs… the real game began.
An hour later, a servant knocked on my door.
"Madam," she whispered nervously, "someone left this for you in the back corridor."
My pulse spiked.
She handed me a folded note and left quickly, like she didn't want to be involved.
I locked the door behind me and opened it.
Three words were written inside.
"HE KNOWS YOU KNOW."
My breath caught.
They knew.
Someone had realized the file was found.
My phone buzzed instantly.
A message from Riyan.
Riyan:
Good. The trap worked.
My uncle just canceled a meeting he's attended for 12 years.
He's nervous.
My fingers trembled as I typed back.
Me:
They left a note in my room. They know we found something.
A few seconds passed.
Then—
Riyan:
Perfect.
That means the file was real.
And it scared the right person.
I sank onto the bed, heart racing.
So this was the plan.
Pretend ignorance.
Watch reactions.
Wait for mistakes.
I stared at the note again.
HE KNOWS YOU KNOW.
But who was "he"?
My phone buzzed again.
Riyan:
Tonight, I'm coming home late.
If anyone tries to talk to you alone… remember everything they say.
Fear makes people careless.
I swallowed hard.
Me:
And if they try to hurt me?
The reply came instantly.
Riyan:
Then they confirm their guilt.
I closed my eyes.
Because one truth was now crystal clear:
The Malhotra mansion wasn't a home.
It was a battlefield.
And I was standing right in the middle of it.