The morning passed quietly after the incident with the medical file.
Aarvi tried her best to work without overthinking, but her mind kept looping back to Riyan's expression when she saw what she wasn't supposed to see.
Insomnia. Stress episodes. Therapy recommendations.
He didn't look like someone who needed help.
He looked like the kind of man who never allowed himself to need anything at all.
Which, she imagined, was worse.
Around noon, she took her notebook and walked toward his office to give him the updated schedule. She knocked lightly.
"Come in," he said.
She stepped inside—and froze.
Riyan wasn't behind his desk.
He was sitting on the couch, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped tightly. His breathing was slow, too controlled, like he was forcing calm into himself.
For a moment, she thought he didn't notice her.
Then his eyes lifted.
He straightened immediately. "You need something?"
Aarvi hesitated. "Um… just your schedule for the rest of the day."
He gestured for her to come closer. When she placed the papers on the table before him, he didn't take them right away.
He looked at her instead.
"You're quieter today," he said.
Her heart skipped. "I wasn't trying to be."
"Good." His gaze lingered. "Don't start acting differently because of what happened yesterday."
"I wasn't," she said again, softer this time.
He didn't believe her. She could see that. But he didn't push further.
Before she could step back, a knock came at the door.
A man entered without waiting for permission.
Tall. Expensively dressed. Smiling too easily.
"Oh, thank God, you're here!" he exclaimed, walking straight toward Riyan. "I've been calling you all morning. Why aren't you answering—"
He stopped when he noticed Aarvi.
"And who is this lovely new addition?"
Aarvi stiffened.
Riyan's voice sharpened instantly. "She's my secretary."
The man smirked. "I can see that." Then, extending a hand toward her, he said, "I'm Ahaan. His cousin. And the only normal one in this family."
Riyan shot him a warning glance.
Aarvi shook his hand politely. "Nice to meet you."
"So you're the brave woman working for him," Ahaan said dramatically. "You deserve a medal. Or therapy."
"Ahaan," Riyan said through clenched teeth.
Aarvi bit back a smile.
This was the first time she saw someone talk to Riyan without fear. The tension in the room shifted—not unpleasantly. Almost… warm.
Ahaan plopped down on the sofa beside Riyan.
"Anyway, listen," he said. "You're coming to the family dinner tonight."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes," Ahaan insisted. "Your mother already knows you're coming."
Riyan's jaw tightened. A dangerous silence followed.
"Stop scheduling my personal life," he said coldly.
"You have no personal life," Ahaan replied. "That's the problem."
Aarvi looked down quickly, pretending to be invisible. She shouldn't be hearing this.
Ahaan noticed her discomfort and grinned. "Don't mind him. He's been like this since childhood."
Riyan exhaled sharply. "And you haven't changed at all."
Ahaan's eyes softened for a moment, ignoring the jab. "I'm just trying to get you out of this office before you die here."
That silence again.
Heavy.
Meaningful.
Aarvi suddenly understood — his cousin wasn't teasing. He was worried.
She finally stepped back. "I should go. I have files to arrange."
Riyan looked at her briefly. "You can leave."
Ahaan waited until she walked out, then leaned closer to his cousin and whispered—loud enough that Aarvi could still faintly hear:
"She's good for you."
Riyan didn't respond.
Not with words.
But Aarvi didn't miss the way he went unnaturally still.
---
Later That Day
Aarvi was sorting through old reports when Riyan stepped out of his office again.
"Miss Sharma."
She looked up. "Yes?"
"You'll accompany me to an off-site meeting at 4 p.m."
"Okay."
"And change that expression."
She blinked. "What expression?"
"That worried one," he said simply.
"I wasn't—"
"You were."
She sighed quietly. "I just… want to do well here."
He studied her for a moment.
Then, in a tone quieter than she expected, he said:
"You're doing fine."
Her breath caught.
It wasn't just what he said.
It was how he said it.
Almost reluctantly.
Almost like complimenting someone felt foreign to him.
And yet… he said it.
Before she could thank him, he added:
"Also, ignore anything Ahaan tells you. He talks too much."
Aarvi smiled softly. "I noticed."
Riyan's eyes flickered—something warm, something he didn't want to acknowledge.
"Meeting at 4," he reminded before walking away.
She watched him go, confusion blooming in her chest.
He was cold.
He was strict.
He was unreadable.
But somewhere, buried beneath the layers he didn't show anyone…
there was a man she didn't understand yet.
And she wasn't supposed to understand him.
But the more she saw, the harder it became to stay uninvolved.