HER POV
I watched him walk away—his back straight, his steps deliberate and unhurried. He didn't look back, not even once. And yet, despite the chill he left behind, a small, involuntary smile tugged at my lips.
"Mmm… someone's smiling," Kavya sang, nudging me with a knowing smirk.
"What?" I snapped out of my thoughts, my face heating up.
"You know exactly what I mean," she teased. "And honestly? It's kind of nice to see you actually present for once."
I stopped in my tracks and turned to her, eyes wide.
"What—who??"
She rolled her eyes, unimpressed by my acting.
"Don't play stupid, Riya. You know who I'm talking about."
"Rishabh?" I scoffed, though my heart skipped a beat.
"Oh, please. Shut up. He's just a patient, Kavya. That's it. He's not a friend, he's not... anything."
I turned and marched out of the café, trying to shake the feeling of his presence from my skin.
"This girl, seriously…" I muttered.
She ran after me, her laughter echoing in the street.
"Hey! Wait up! I was just joking!"
ONE HOUR LATER
The evening felt lighter as we reached my apartment. We had stopped at a nearby store to pick up a small cake and a bottle of wine—nothing fancy, just something to anchor us. Kavya insisted we deserved it after such an "emotionally taxing day."
Inside, I kicked off my shoes and collapsed onto the couch with a heavy sigh.
"Home sweet home," Kavya said, stretching her arms.
"Yeah…" I whispered. "Finally."
For the first time since last night, the tightness in my chest eased. Between the laughter, the sugar, and her steady presence, the fear began to recede into the background. I stopped thinking about the anonymous calls, the shadowy strangers... and even about Rishabh Malhotra.
At least, for now.
11:47 PM
The room was silent, save for the low, hypnotic hum of the ceiling fan. Kavya and I were sitting on the floor, backs against the couch. An empty cake box sat between us like a trophy, alongside two half-filled glasses of wine.
"That cake was worth every calorie," Kavya said, licking frosting off her finger.
"Yeah," I agreed weakly.
She studied my face for a moment, her expression turning serious.
"Okay. Enough jokes. Talk to me."
"About what?"
"About you," she said gently. "You've been smiling one second and zoning out the next. You get scared, then you pretend you're fine. "Something is happening, Riya."
I stared into my glass, swirling the dark liquid. "I don't know what's wrong with me," I admitted. "Everything feels… off. Like my life is tilting on its axis."
She leaned in. "Because of that call?"
I nodded. "And the hospital… and Alex… and that man."
"Which man?"
I hesitated, the name feeling heavy on my tongue. "Rishabh."
Kavya didn't tease this time. She just listened.
"He scares me," I continued. "But at the same time… he doesn't. And that's what terrifies me the most."
She bumped her shoulder against mine. "Riya, you're human. You're allowed to be confused."
I let out a shaky laugh. "Why does everyone in my life suddenly feel like a question mark?"
"Maybe," she whispered, "because you're finally noticing the things you've been choosing to ignore."
Silence settled over us—warm and heavy. Kavya stood up, stretching. "Alright, doctor. Enough emotional trauma for one night. Sleep. Tomorrow, the world will look clearer."
I pulled a blanket over myself as she turned off the lights.
"Kavya?" I whispered into the dark.
"Hmm?"
"Thanks for being here."
"Always," she replied.
My eyes drifted shut. For the first time in days, sleep came without the haunt of nightmares. But deep down, a quiet thought lingered: Nothing in my life is random anymore.
VIBRATE.
My phone buzzed under the blanket. I sat up slowly, the blue light of the screen stinging my eyes.
ALEX
Alex: Hey baby… sorry I couldn't call earlier.
Me: It's okay. You said you had to leave suddenly… is everything fine?
The typing bubbles appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
Alex: Yeah. Just family stuff. You know how it is. I didn't want to stress you out.
I bit my lip, a faint sense of unease returning.
Me: You could've told me. I was worried.
Alex: I know… I'm sorry. Are you home safe?
Me: Yes. Kavya is with me.
There was a long pause.
Alex: Good. I feel better knowing you're not alone.
Something about that sentence made my skin crawl.
Me: Alex… is there something you're not telling me?
An agonizingly long pause...
Alex: No, Riya. Trust me.
Trust me. Why did it feel like a demand rather than a comfort?
Alex: Get some rest. I'll call you tomorrow. Good night, baby.
Me: Good night.
I locked the phone. The room was silent, but my mind was a storm. Because in the gaps between his sweet words, there was a void he wasn't filling.
What was Alex hiding?
ALEX'S POV
The room was quiet. Too quiet.
I sat on the edge of the bed, the phone still glowing in my palm.
"Good night, baby." I replayed her message in my head.
A smile spread across my face. It wasn't the sweet, boyfriend smile I practiced in the mirror. It was something else.
I opened my laptop. Riya Sharma.
Her entire life was mapped out on my screen—hospital shifts, bus routes, café visits. I leaned back, crossing my arms.
"She was with Kavya today," I murmured. My fingers drummed against the mahogany desk. I didn't like that café. I didn't like that someone else had invaded our space.
I opened a folder hidden deep in the system. A photo loaded. It was blurred, taken from a distance. Riya at a café table. Smiling.
And across from her sat a man in a dark suit.
My jaw tightened until it ached. "So… you met him," I whispered.
I stood up and walked to the window. Below, the city lights flickered like a dying pulse. People lived their little lives, thinking they were unseen.
"Riya," I said softly, my voice dripping with artificial affection. "You trust too easily."
My phone buzzed. A message from an
unsaved number.
Unknown: She looked comfortable with him.
I typed back without a second thought.
Me: Keep watching. I don't like surprises.
I slipped the phone into my pocket. My smile returned—sweet, perfect, the kind no one ever questions. Because love, when perfected with control, looks exactly like care.
And Riya?
She still thinks I'm just her boyfriend.
HER POV – THE NEXT MORNING
The morning sun bled through the gap in the curtains. I killed the alarm and stared at the ceiling for a long minute. My head was a mess of Alex's messages, Kavya's warnings, and the echo of a stranger's voice.
"Get up, Riya. Don't be late for the hospital, "
I forced myself out of bed.
In the bathroom mirror, my reflection looked haggard—dark circles bruising the skin under my eyes.
"It's just stress," I told the girl in the mirror. "You're fine."
But the hospital routine didn't bring the usual comfort. The beeping machines and white corridors felt suffocating today.
"Dr. Riya," a nurse said, handing me a file.
"Mr. Malhotra is here for his follow-up."
My hand froze for a split second.
Rishabh Malhotra.
"Okay," I said, forcing my voice to remain neutral. "I'll handle it."
I walked down the corridor, mentally rehearsing my professional persona. Calm. Clinical. Detached. As I approached the room, I saw him.
He was wearing the same style of sharp suit, standing near the end of the corridor as if he were a permanent fixture of the building. He wasn't talking to anyone. He was just... waiting. For me.
Our eyes met. He didn't offer a wide grin; he just gave a polite, measured smile.
"Good morning, Doctor," he said.
"Good morning," I replied. My voice was steady, but my pulse was a drumbeat in my ears.
"I hope I'm not disturbing your schedule," he said smoothly. "I was told my check-up was today."
"No disturbance. Please, come in."
As he followed me into the room, a strange sensation washed over me—a feeling that even in this crowded hospital, I was suddenly, dangerously alone with him.
"Please, have a seat."
He sat down with a grace that didn't belong in a hospital. I picked up his file, using it as a shield to avoid his gaze.
"How are you feeling today?"
"Much better," he replied. "Thanks to you."
I looked up instinctively. Our eyes locked. There was no pain in his gaze. Just a terrifying level of awareness.
"That's good," I said, looking away first.
"Your wound seems to be healing well."
I moved closer to inspect the bandage. My hands were tense, a fact I hoped he didn't notice. He watched me in silence—not speaking, just observing every move I made.
I stepped closer to remove the bandage. As the gauze fell away, my breath hitched in my throat.
The cut was angry. Red. Fresh.
This wasn't a day-old injury. My eyebrows knitted together before I could stop myself.
"This wound…" I murmured, leaning in.
"This isn't the injury from before."
He stiffened. It was subtle, but I felt the shift in the air.
"This looks recent," I said, my voice turning firm.
"You should have told the nurse if you got hurt again."
He let out a quiet breath and gave a casual shrug. "Just a minor accident. I'm a little careless sometimes."
I looked at him sharply. "Carelessness doesn't cause a gash this deep. This happened last night… didn't it?"
For a fleeting second, something flickered in his eyes. It wasn't fear or guilt. It was something darker, something ancient. Then, it was gone.
"I told you," he repeated calmly. "An accident."
I pressed my lips together, entirely unconvinced. I began to clean the wound, my movements professional, but my mind was screaming. This isn't normal.
"You're lucky it didn't get infected," I said softly. "You need to avoid anything risky."
"You worry too much, Doctor," he said, his voice dropping to a low, intimate hum.
"I don't. I'm just doing my job."
A faint smile touched his lips. "That's what I like about you."
I looked up, startled. "What?"
He cleared his throat, leaning back slightly. "Your... attentiveness. It's a rare quality."
I finished the dressing and stripped off my gloves. "Be more careful this time. Next time, luck might not be on your side."
He nodded slowly. "I'll try."
As he turned to leave, I watched his retreating back. That wound. That lie. I was certain of it now: whatever life Rishabh Malhotra lived outside these walls was soaked in violence. And he was working very hard to keep me from seeing it.
VIBRATE.
I had just finished the file when my phone went off. Alex.
I hesitated, then answered. "Hello?"
"Where are you?" His voice was calm. Too calm.
"At the hospital, Alex. I'm on a shift."
Silence. "You didn't tell me."
"I didn't think I had to report my every move," I replied, trying to sound playful, but failing.
"Who were you with?" he asked suddenly.
My grip on the phone tightened. "What do you mean?"
"I mean exactly what I said, Riya. Who."
I swallowed hard. "Patients, Alex. Nurses. It's a hospital."
He let out a short, dry laugh. "You're a terrible liar. I can hear the tremor in your voice."
"I'm not lying! You're being paranoid."
"Am I?" he whispered. "Because I heard a man's voice in the background during our last call."
My mind flashed to Rishabh. "That was nothing. Just a patient."
"A patient," Alex repeated slowly. "And why do you sound so defensive about a patient?"
"I'm not—" I snapped, then caught myself.
"Be careful, Riya," he said, his voice dropping to a chilling whisper. "You trust people too easily."
The line went dead. My stomach twisted into a knot. Why did a call from my boyfriend feel like a police interrogation?
From the corner of my eye, I saw him. Rishabh was standing a few feet away, leaning against the doorframe, his expression unreadable.
"Everything okay?" he asked quietly.
I forced a smile. "Yes."
But as I looked at him, and thought about the man on the phone, I realized I didn't know which one was the real danger.
Rishabh's eyes dropped to the phone in my hand. He knew.
"Boyfriend?" his voice was casual, but his eyes were like flint.
"Yeah," I nodded. "Alex."
He gave a slow, dark smile. "Lucky guy."
The way he said it made my skin prickle. I noticed his arm then—the way he held it.
"Your wound… it's bothering you," I said, stepping closer.
He instinctively pulled back. "It's fine. Just... reopened."
"Stitches don't just reopen like that," I said softly.
A dark shadow crossed his face. "You worry too much. Your boyfriend wouldn't like you fussing over me."
"Why would Alex mind? You're a patient."
Rishabh chuckled, a low, guttural sound. "Men don't like it," he said, his eyes boring into mine, "when someone else notices the things they think belong only to them."
The word belong sent a shiver down my spine.
"This is my job," I said, crossing my arms.
"Is it?" he stepped closer, invading my personal space. "The way you look at me... that isn't just 'professional,' Riya."
My breath hitched. "I don't—"
"You do," he interrupted gently. "And don't bother denying it. I'm not complaining."
I felt the heat rise to my face. The silence between us was heavy with things unsaid.
"Does he know you smile like that?" he asked, his voice a mere whisper. "When you're not pretending to be the perfect little doctor?"
I looked away. "No," I whispered.
His gaze darkened. It wasn't just attraction; it was a territorial claim.
"Good," he said. "Some smiles are better kept... private."
My heart hammered against my ribs. I knew this was wrong. I had a boyfriend. He was a patient. But the gravity of Rishabh Malhotra was pulling me in, and I didn't know if I had the strength to break free....
Some smiles are better kept private." Do you think he's already falling for Riya, or is she just a new "prize" for him to win?
Alex's Secret: Alex is monitoring Riya through her laptop and has people watching her. Why do you think he is so obsessed with controlling her life? What is he hiding?