Aarvi stayed longer at her desk than usual, trying to steady the strange twist in her stomach. She couldn't understand why seeing that brief softness in Riyan earlier affected her so much. Maybe because she never imagined someone like him—cold, controlled, unreadable—could even have a softer side.
She shook her head. It doesn't matter. He's your boss. That's it.
By the time she looked up, the office was nearly empty. The quiet felt heavier at night, as if the building held its breath along with her.
She shut down her computer, grabbed her bag, and stood to leave just as a familiar door opened.
"Aarvi."
Her name in his voice made her freeze.
She turned slowly.
Riyan Malhotra stepped out of his office, sleeves rolled, his tie loosened. He looked nothing like the flawless CEO from the morning—his hair slightly messed, his expression unreadably tired… human.
"I need the legal contracts from the storage room," he said. "Tonight."
Aarvi blinked. "Now?"
"Yes." His tone softened—barely noticeable, yet impossible to ignore. "If you don't mind staying a little longer."
She hesitated for only a second.
"No, sir. I'll get them."
She walked toward the storage room, her footsteps echoing. Inside, the folder cabinets stood tall and intimidating. She searched carefully, pulling out file after file.
When she finally found the right set, she stacked them in her arms—only realizing too late how heavy they were.
The top few slipped.
A shadow moved behind her.
Before she could bend, a hand caught the falling folders.
Riyan.
He had followed her.
He stood close—too close. The faint warmth of his breath brushed her temple as he steadied the stack in her arms.
"You should've asked for help," he said quietly.
"You were busy," she whispered.
"That doesn't mean you carry more than you can."
His voice… it wasn't cold.
Not sharp.
Not distant.
Just… careful.
Aarvi swallowed, unsure why her chest tightened at his concern.
He held the remaining folders for her and walked beside her back to the office. When they reached his desk, he placed them down and looked at her, something unreadable flickering across his eyes.
"You don't have to stay this late again," he said. "Unless I ask you to."
Aarvi nodded, confused.
Was that a rule? A warning? A… concern?
But before she could speak, he looked away, hiding whatever emotion had surfaced.
"Goodnight, Miss Sharma."
She walked toward the elevator, but halfway there, she paused and looked back.
He was still watching her.
Not as a boss.
Not as a billionaire.
Just… watching.
Aarvi quickly stepped inside the elevator, her heart refusing to settle.
She didn't know it yet, but tonight—without meaning to—
she had broken a rule Riyan Malhotra never said out loud:
She made him care.