The morning sun cast a golden glow over the city as I stepped into the office at precisely 9 AM. The scent of fresh coffee and printer ink mingled in the air, a familiar yet oddly comforting combination. Heels clicked against the polished floors, and the chatter of employees filled the space, blending into a constant hum of activity.
I adjusted my bag strap and took a deep breath, feeling much better today. My body had finally stopped aching, and the fever from the previous days had faded into a dull memory. I was ready to focus on work.
As I made my way to my office room, a sudden voice rang out.
"Vidya!"
I turned sharply, recognizing the voice before I even saw her. Emma came running towards me, her short curls bouncing with each hurried step. She clutched my arm, panting heavily, her cheeks flushed from exertion.
I frowned, alarmed.
"Emma? What happened? Are you okay?"
She shook her head, struggling to catch her breath. Her fingers dug into my arm, and for a moment, I feared the worst.
"Nothing... Just now I-" she gasped, pausing for air before continuing, "Just now, I crossed paths with Kathir Rathore sir."
My heart skipped a beat. I stiffened, gripping her arm in concern.
"What did he do to you?" My voice was barely a whisper.
"Nothing! He didn't do anything," she rushed to assure me, but the fear in her eyes told me otherwise. "I just walked past him, but... I felt like I needed to save myself from the beast. It was terrifying."
I exhaled in relief and, unable to help myself, playfully pushed her head.
"You silly girl," I teased, but deep down, I knew she wasn't exaggerating. Kathir was a beast. Not the Disney kind-the most dangerous kind.
Emma giggled, and I couldn't help but join her. The momentary fear passed, replaced by our usual banter.
"Hey," Emma said, composing herself, "Mr. Rawther asked you to meet him in his office."
I blinked. "Oh? Where is his room?"
"Third floor. Opposite Mr. Kathir Rathore's room," she replied with a knowing smirk.
I nodded and made my way toward the staircase. As I ascended, I mentally prepared myself.
"Today, I have to stay away from that arrogant monster. Whenever I see him, I should hide somewhere to avoid getting caught. I should follow Emma's tips."
Reaching the third floor, I stopped in front of a wooden door. Taking a breath, I knocked.
A deep voice responded from inside.
I pushed open the door-
And my heart dropped.
"Oh, shoot!"
I had walked into the wrong room.
A sleek, modern office spread before me, bathed in dim lighting. The strong scent of expensive cologne mixed with the faint aroma of leather. Behind a grand mahogany desk, a man sat, flipping through a file with sharp precision.
Kathir Rathore.
He lifted his gaze lazily, one eyebrow arching in mild curiosity.
"What?"
His voice was cool, detached.
I swallowed, my palms going clammy. "Sorry, wrong room."
Turning on my heel, I gripped the handle, but before I could twist it open-
SLAM!
The door shut with a force that rattled my bones.
I spun around, pulse hammering.
Kathir stood right behind me, his tall frame looming dangerously close. My breath hitched. How had he moved so fast?
His light brown eyes glowed under the dim lighting, locked onto mine with an intensity that made my stomach twist.
I pressed myself against the door instinctively, feeling trapped.
"I- I came here to meet Mr. Rawther, but-"
He lifted a hand, placing it against the wooden door beside my head, effectively caging me in.
"But?" His tone was laced with amusement, but there was something else beneath it. Something predatory.
I struggled to keep my voice steady. "I accidentally entered your room. I was supposed to go to Mr. Rawther's room."
His eyes darkened slightly. "How can you accidentally enter my room?"
I hesitated. That was a good question.
His stare bore into me, unyielding. My heartbeat thundered in my ears.
Then-he smirked.
"Seems like you're thinking about me 24/7."
My lips parted, but no words came out. I wasn't thinking about him, yet his presence consumed every inch of the space around me.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a lighter and a cigarette. I watched, wide-eyed.
He flicked the lighter open with a soft click, a tiny flame flickering to life.
"Do you know what this is?" he asked, holding it up.
I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "It's a lighter. Do you think I don't know what that is?"
Without warning, he grabbed my hand and placed the lighter in my palm.
I tensed, the cold metal burning against my skin-not in temperature, but in presence.
His fingers curled over mine, guiding my hand toward the cigarette. The proximity made my breath hitch.
"Light it up," he commanded.
I gaped at him. "What?"
"Come on." His voice was low, almost coaxing.
I hesitated, but he pressed down on my fingers, igniting the flame. The fire flickered, dancing between us.
He brought the cigarette closer-
I lit it.
Smoke curled in the air, swirling like ghostly tendrils between us.
Then-he exhaled.
A cloud of smoke blew right at my face.
I flinched, covering my face with my hands. When I peeked through my fingers, my breath caught.
The cigarette in his mouth had transformed-into a black rose.
My eyes widened. "How... how did you do that?"
Kathir plucked the black rose from his lips and twirled it between his fingers, amusement flickering in his gaze.
"Want to know how?" he murmured, tilting his head.
He held out the rose.
"Light it up."
I hesitated, but curiosity overpowered fear. With trembling fingers, I flicked the lighter.
The flame kissed the petals-
The rose vanished into thin air.
I gasped. "It's gone."
Kathir leaned closer, his lips barely parting as he spoke.
"You saw how I turned the worst cigarette into a beautiful black rose and made it disappear."
His jaw tightened. His next words sent an icy chill down my spine.
"And I can do the same to you."
I froze.
His gaze sharpened, his voice a whisper of warning.
"Do you want to disappear like the black rose?"
I shook my head frantically, my throat too dry to speak.
He stepped back, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Then get out."
I didn't need to be told twice. I bolted, nearly tripping over my own feet.
Once outside, I pressed my back against the door, panting. My hands were trembling.
I had to meet Mr. Rawther. But the ghost of Kathir's smirk and the vanishing rose haunted me.
After handing Mr. Rawther the documents to sign, I descended the stairs, my footsteps echoing softly. The familiar scent of old books and freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air, blending with the faint hum of office chatter.
As I reached the landing, I noticed Emma standing by the water dispenser, sipping from a paper cup. Her glasses slipped slightly down her nose, and she absentmindedly pushed them back up with her pinky.
"Hey, Emma," I said, waving at her.
"Hey, Vi!" she replied cheerfully, lifting her hand to wave back. But midway, she froze.
Her gaze locked onto my hand, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion. Slowly, her eyes widened, and her lips parted.
"Are you a smoker?" she asked, her voice laced with disbelief.
I frowned, following her gaze. It took me a second to register what she was looking at-the lighter resting between my fingers.
Oh.
Rolling my eyes, I sighed. "No, Emma, that's not mine. It's Kathir's."
The second the words left my mouth, I realized my mistake. My stomach dropped.
I quickly corrected myself. "I-I mean, Sir Kathir's."
Emma's curiosity sharpened. She stepped closer, her expression questioning. "What? How can his lighter be with you?"
I hesitated, flashes of that strange moment replaying in my mind-Kathir's unreadable smirk, the way he seemed to control the very air around him, like some illusionist preparing for a grand trick. It had been unsettling, but there was no way I was telling Emma. She already got nervous around him. If she knew what had really happened, she'd probably freak out.
So, I did the next best thing.
"I stole it from him!" I said.
Emma gasped, her hand flying to her lips, her eyes practically bulging out of her sockets.
"You wha-" she started, but the words caught in her throat.
The horror on her face was almost comical. With her wide eyes behind those glasses and her bangs bouncing slightly, she looked ridiculously cute in her shock.
"How could you?" she finally managed to say, still staring at me like I had committed some heinous crime.
"Let's go, I'll tell you later," I said, grabbing her wrist and pulling her toward the office room.
She followed, still too stunned to argue, her mind clearly racing with exaggerated theories.