Rumors don't start loudly.
They begin as whispers —
half-seen moments, misread glances, a coincidence someone decides means more than it does.
And by the time you notice them,
they've already taken shape.
Aarvi sensed it the moment she stepped onto the office floor the next morning.
The silence wasn't empty.
It was watching.
A few conversations stopped mid-sentence.
Someone looked away too quickly.
Someone else stared a little too long.
Her stomach tightened.
She walked to her desk, pretending not to notice, but the unease settled deeper with every step.
---
She heard it by accident
"Did you see them leave together yesterday?"
"Yeah… CEO's car."
"I heard he paid her hospital bills."
"That explains why she gets special treatment."
The words weren't loud.
They weren't meant for her.
But they landed anyway.
Aarvi froze.
Her hands trembled as she placed her bag down slowly.
Special treatment.
That phrase burned.
She hadn't asked for any of it.
She hadn't wanted anyone to know.
She swallowed hard, forcing herself to sit down.
Don't react, she told herself.
Don't give them anything.
But the hurt crept in anyway.
---
Riyan noticed before she spoke
From inside his office, he saw her shoulders stiffen, the way her gaze dropped, the way her hands curled in on themselves.
He felt it immediately —
something was wrong.
He stepped out of his office and scanned the floor.
Too many eyes.
Too much interest.
He didn't need confirmation.
He already knew.
---
He confronted the silence
"Is there a problem here?"
His voice wasn't raised.
But it was enough.
Conversations died instantly.
No one answered.
Riyan's eyes swept across the room — cold, sharp, commanding.
"Good," he said.
"Then get back to work."
People scattered.
But the damage was already done.
---
Inside his office
"Aarvi," he said quietly once she stepped in and closed the door.
She kept her gaze on the floor.
"They're talking," she whispered.
"About us."
His jaw tightened.
"What did you hear?"
"That I get special treatment," she said softly.
"That I don't deserve my position."
Riyan's expression darkened.
"That's not true."
"I know," she replied.
"But they don't."
He took a breath, steadying himself.
"I should've handled this better," he admitted.
"I should've been more careful."
Aarvi looked up, surprised.
"You don't have to apologize," she said.
"I just… I don't want to be seen as someone who used you."
The words hurt him more than she knew.
"You didn't use me," he said firmly.
"I chose to help."
"But choice doesn't stop judgment," she whispered.
Silence stretched between them.
---
He made another difficult decision
"From today," Riyan said slowly, "we'll keep our distance at work."
Aarvi's chest tightened.
"Distance?"
"For your protection," he clarified.
"So no one can question your integrity."
Her throat burned.
"That means you pretending I don't exist," she said quietly.
He winced.
"No," he said.
"It means I protect you in a way the world can't twist."
She nodded slowly, understanding — and hurting all at once.
"I don't want this to ruin what you've built here," she said.
"And I don't want this place to hurt you," he replied.
Their eyes met.
This wasn't a breakup.
This wasn't a rejection.
But it felt like a loss.
---
Back at her desk
Riyan returned to his office.
Aarvi sat quietly, doing her work, her expression composed — but her heart heavy.
They didn't look at each other again that day.
And somehow, that hurt more than the rumors.
Because now there was something real between them —
something fragile —
and the world had already found a way to threaten it.