The boardroom smelled of money.
And coffee. Always coffee.
Kanya sat two seats down from Aran, flipping through her neatly prepared notes, heels crossed, expression sharp. On the outside, she was every inch the confident executive assistant who knew exactly what she was doing. Inside? She wanted to crawl under the table and never resurface.
Because the giant screen at the far end of the room still had the photo projected on it. Again.
Someone in editing team had added dramatic text under it: "Leverage the Mystery."
Kanya resisted the urge to bang her head against the mahogany table.
Across from her, the client, an older man in a tailored suit who'd made his millions in hotels, chuckled and leaned back in his chair. "I must admit, Aran, this little… stunt has done wonders. Your brand awareness has skyrocketed. The intrigue around this 'mystery woman' is everywhere."
Aran's expression didn't flicker. He simply adjusted his cufflink, calm and unreadable.
The client wasn't finished. He leaned forward, lowering his voice like they were sharing a scandal. "So. Who is she? An actress? A model? A mistress?"
The word landed like a slap.
Kanya's spine went rigid, but before she could even blink, Aran's gaze sliced across the table. Cold. Precise. Deadly.
"You will not speak of her that way."
The entire room froze.
Even Kanya blinked, stunned. Aran's voice wasn't raised, but it carried enough force to shut down the air itself. The client shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"I— I only meant—"
"What you meant" Aran cut in smoothly, "is irrelevant. What matters is that this company, and its partners, do not reduce women to gossip or accessories. The subject is closed."
The silence that followed was suffocating. Even the AC seemed to stop humming.
Kanya stared at him, lips parted slightly. Not because of the words... though they were unexpected, but because of the way he said them. Controlled. Possessive. Like a man who'd set fire to the room before letting anyone insult her.
The client coughed awkwardly and turned to his notes. "Of course. Strictly business. My apologies."
"Accepted" Aran replied, with a smile so sharp it could draw blood. "Now, let's move on."
The meeting dragged on, numbers and projections flying across the screen, but Kanya barely heard a word. Her mind kept replaying that one line:
You will not speak of her that way.
When the clients finally left, she gathered her files, trying to appear unbothered. She wasn't going to thank him. She wasn't.
But when she reached the door, his voice stopped her.
"You're quiet."
She turned slowly, masking the thrum in her chest with a glare. "I'm trying not to commit homicide in a boardroom."
"On me? Or them?"
"Both."
The corner of his mouth twitched. Infuriating man.
She exhaled, shoulders loosening against her will. "You didn't have to… defend me like that."
"I wasn't defending you" he said flatly, standing to gather his papers. "I was defending the company's reputation."
Kanya's jaw tightened. Of course. Of course he'd phrase it like that. "Right. The company. Not me."
He walked past her, close enough that she caught the faint scent of his cologne, dark and clean. Just before he stepped out, he leaned down ever so slightly, voice low enough only she could hear.
"But if I ever hear someone say that word about you again…" His gaze flicked to hers, sharp as a blade. "…I won't be as polite."
Her heart thudded.
And just like that, he was gone.
Kanya stood there, gripping her files, willing her pulse to calm down. She hated him. She really did.
So why did it feel like the room was still burning from his presence?
_
_
_
By the time Kanya made it back to her office, her head was spinning.
Not from the numbers, not from the endless discussion of "synergy" and "expansion opportunities" No.
From one line.
You will not speak of her that way.
She threw her files on her desk, muttering under her breath. "Cold, arrogant, insufferable man…"
June chose that exact moment to poke his head through the door, carrying two iced lattes and a grin. "Talking about Aran again? Wow, shocking."
"Get out."
He ignored her, sauntering in and plopping down on her couch. "So. Heard about the meeting."
Her head shot up. "Already? It ended fifteen minutes ago!"
"Sweetheart, in this building gossip moves faster than light." June took a long sip of his latte. "Word is, Mr. Iceberg nearly froze a client alive because they said something about…" He leaned forward dramatically, lowering his voice. "…the photo."
Kanya pinched the bridge of her nose. "Unbelievable."
Before she could stop him, Jack burst in next , arms full of folders he clearly wasn't planning to read. "Did I hear drama? Please tell me I heard drama."
"You always hear drama" June said dryly.
Jack plopped himself in Kanya's visitor chair, tossing the folders onto her desk. "So. Spill. Did Aran defend your honor like some mafia boss in a K-drama?"
Kanya glared. "It wasn't like that."
Jack and June exchanged a look. A very loud, very knowing look.
"She's blushing" Jack whispered.
"I am not!"
"You are" June said cheerfully, tossing a popcorn kernel in the air and catching it. "Question is… are we watching Enemies to Lovers: The Office Edition, or are we still in the I Will Kill Him With a Stapler phase?"
Kanya grabbed the nearest pen and pointed it at him like a dagger. "Stapler. Definitely stapler."
Jack leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head. "Mhm. Sure. I'll remember that when you're sneaking out of his office one of these nights looking like—"
"Finish that sentence and I will staple your mouth shut."
June chuckled, leaning over to Jack. "See? Classic denial. It's adorable."
Jack's grin widened. "Almost as adorable as the hoodie I just ordered. Limited edition. 'Mystery Slammer' logo, front and center."
Kanya groaned, dropping her head to her desk. "I hate this company. I hate you both. I hate my life."
"You love us" June sang.
The three of them bickered, the familiar rhythm of chaos filling the office like static. And for a brief moment, Kanya almost forgot about the way Aran's voice had cut through the boardroom like steel .....sharp, dangerous, protective in a way she didn't want to think about.
Almost.
Because even as Jack made her laugh and June teased her into rolling her eyes, the memory lingered at the back of her mind.
If I ever hear someone say that word about you again… I won't be as polite.
Her stomach flipped.
And she hated that it did.