The air inside Rex's office was heavier than usual, thick with the quiet storm of contemplation. Screens still glowed faintly from the surveillance feed, though the audio had gone silent now. Rex sat unmoving, one leg crossed, hand pressed to his chin, eyes locked on the paused frame of Kiaan's phone interface.
The filtered sounds from last night kept replaying in his head—the breathy exchanges, the murmurs, the towel comment, the seemingly suggestive chuckles. None of it added up clearly, but everything about it gnawed at his mind like an unresolved riddle.
Aarav entered, a file in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. He didn't speak immediately, sensing the static of Rex's mood. But after a beat, he placed the file on the desk and folded his arms. "Boss," he began carefully, "I know what you're thinking. But we both know surveillance doesn't always give the whole picture."
Rex didn't answer. His stare was unreadable, caught somewhere between fury, confusion, and cold calculation. Aarav walked to the monitor, glancing at the screen still displaying Kiaan's sleeping form from earlier. "They've been working together for years, Rehaan and Kiaan. Sharing rooms on missions. Laughing. Covering each other's backs. Doesn't mean anything more." Rex's jaw tightened. "It's not about what it means, Aarav," he said at last, voice low and deliberate. "It's about control. Observation. I don't like variables I can't read." Aarav chuckled dryly, "Well, people aren't files, Rex. Especially not Kiaan Varma. The more you try to read him like a code, the more he'll stay a puzzle." Rex's fingers tapped slowly on the desk. "A puzzle," he echoed. "I've cracked worse." He leaned forward, eyes sharp now. "Double-check all audio logs. Sequence the breathing gaps. I want to know when the shifts in tone happened, what time Rehaan got up, and how long they stayed together."
Aarav exhaled. "Boss… if I may… are you tracking a threat or a man?" Rex turned his head slightly, a flicker of something dangerous flashing in his eyes. "I don't confuse the two. But sometimes, they're the same thing."
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The morning light filtered softly through the blinds of the office as Kiaan and Rehaan stepped inside, the faint scent of last night's exhaustion clinging to them both. Tara and Dev were already there, their eyes flickering between the two with curious grins.
Tara didn't hesitate, breaking the silence first. "So, Kiaan… did you actually stay at Rehaan's place last night?" Her voice was playful but tinged with genuine concern. Kiaan gave a slight nod, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips.
Rehaan chuckled, leaning back against the table casually. "Yeah, if Kiaan's mother had seen him like that, it would've been the end of the world. So I just took him home with me." He smirked, rubbing the back of his neck. "He threw up last night, I had to clean the mess. The poor guy was totally wiped out." Kiaan rubbed his forehead, his voice low but sincere. "Sorry, I was way too drunk. Didn't mean to cause a scene." Rehaan rolled his eyes, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Too drunk? You couldn't even breathe properly after cleaning up. And man, you kept rolling all over the bed like a tornado, got stuck against the wall more than once. I had to tell you to move—push you away from the wall so you wouldn't crush me." Kiaan laughed softly, shaking his head. "I guess I was a mess." Rehaan's eyes twinkled with amusement as he continued, "And in the morning, it was the same story. I got up, took a shower, came back to find you still dead asleep. Had to push you into the bathroom to wash your face. Then you forgot the towel and asked me to toss it to you. I swear, I threw it right in your face." Kiaan smiled, a warm blush spreading across his cheeks. "I probably deserved that."
The room filled with laughter, light and easy, but unknown to them, Rex sat in his office miles away, eyes glued to his screen, listening intently. Every word they spoke pieced together the puzzle he'd been trying to solve. The picture of Kiaan and Rehaan—close, protective, intertwined—formed sharply in his mind. What had once been background noise was now a vivid, undeniable truth. Rex's fingers drummed silently on the desk. The game was changing, and the pieces were finally falling into place.