Riyan prided himself on control.
Control over his schedule.
Control over his company.
Control over every thought he allowed into his life.
But for the first time in years, his thoughts weren't obeying him.
He kept replaying Aarvi's voice on the phone—the crack he wasn't supposed to hear, the quiet fear she tried to hide.
He told himself it wasn't his concern.
He repeated it twice.
And again.
But the image wouldn't leave him.
By late afternoon, he was standing at the glass wall outside his own office, staring at her desk with a confusion that irritated him more each second.
Why did her sadness sit in his mind as if it belonged to him?
---
Aarvi noticed it too.
Not his concern.
Not his responsibility.
She told herself that repeatedly as she typed an email with trembling fingers.
But every few minutes, she felt it—the weight of his gaze.
Not the cold, assessing look of a CEO…
A different one.
Like he was watching her breathe, checking if she was okay, searching her face for something she wasn't ready to share.
It unnerved her.
Because she didn't want him to look at her like that.
It made the walls she'd built around herself feel thin.
---
"Aarvi."
His voice came again.
Firm. But not harsh.
She stepped inside his office. "Yes, sir?"
He hesitated for the smallest moment—so quick that anyone else would've missed it. But Aarvi didn't. She saw the confusion in his eyes, the battle he was fighting with himself.
"Are you… alright?"
Her breath caught.
Riyan Malhotra never asked that.
He didn't ask anyone that.
"I'm fine, sir."
His jaw tightened the moment she said it.
Like he knew she wasn't.
Like he hated that she said it anyway.
"You don't have to lie to keep your job," he said quietly. "If something is wrong… you can say it."
Aarvi looked down at her hands.
No one had ever given her permission to feel before.
But she still shook her head.
"Everything is fine."
Riyan exhaled slowly, the muscle in his cheek tightening again—like he was holding back something sharp, something emotional.
He hated feeling helpless.
He hated watching her struggle and knowing she wouldn't let him help.
And what he hated the most was that he cared.
More than he should.
---
Minutes later
Aarvi left his office, trying to breathe normally, but her heart was tangled in a knot she didn't understand.
Riyan watched her go, fingers clenched against his desk.
The moment the door closed, he stood abruptly and pushed a hand through his hair.
"This is ridiculous," he muttered.
He paced once.
Twice.
Then he grabbed his phone.
"Get me the financial report on employee medical support," he ordered.
The HR head paused in confusion. "Sir… employee? Do you mean a specific—?"
"Just send it," he snapped, then softened his tone. "Tonight."
He wasn't sure what he was doing.
He only knew one thing:
He couldn't sit still while she suffered.
Not anymore.
His emotions—carefully locked away for years—had slipped out for the first time.
And Aarvi was the reason.