The lobby of Khurana Enterprises was a cathedral of glass and steel. As Myra walked in beside Reyansh, her heart felt like a trapped bird. She expected a lingering glance, a secret squeeze of the hand, or even a reassuring nod.
Instead, the moment the elevator doors opened and the staff bowed, Reyansh's aura changed.
The man who had fed her fruit in bed and tied a silk scarf around her neck vanished. In his place stood the "Ice King." His face was a mask of cold, unreachable stone. He didn't look at her. He didn't even acknowledge she was breathing the same air.
"Mr. Khurana, the Japanese investors are in Conference Room A," his head of security announced.
"Move them to Room B. I want the site reports on my desk in five minutes," Reyansh barked, his voice sharp and devoid of the velvet warmth she had grown used to. He strode toward his private office, his long legs eating up the distance.
Myra stood there, frozen. He hadn't even looked back. It was as if the last forty-eight hours had been a hallucination.
"You must be the new transfer, Myra Kapoor," a sharp voice snapped her back to reality.
A tall woman with a tight bun and a blazer that looked like it cost more than Myra's car stepped forward. This was Sarah, the Senior Architect. "I'm Sarah. Mr. Khurana doesn't like dawdlers. You'll be in the bullpen with the juniors until you prove you aren't just a waste of space."
"But... Mr. Khurana said I was lead on the—"
"Mr. Khurana says a lot of things," Sarah interrupted with a sneer, her eyes lingering suspiciously on Myra's Cartier scarf. "Today, he hasn't even looked at your file. Now, move."
The morning was a blur of humiliation. Myra was tucked into a tiny desk in the corner, ignored by everyone. During the 11:00 AM briefing, Reyansh walked into the room. Myra's breath hitched. She caught his eye for a split second, her hand instinctively going to the scarf to hide the marks he'd left
Reyansh looked right through her.
"The designs for the Mumbai Seafront project are pathetic," he said to the room, throwing a folder onto the table. His gaze swept over Myra as if she were just another piece of office furniture. "Who is the new hire from Delhi? Kapoor?"
Myra stood up, her legs trembling. "Yes, sir."
"You were highly recommended," he said, his voice like dry ice. He didn't smile. There was no 'Princess' in his eyes. "So far, I see nothing but a girl who can't even find her way to the printer. If you want to stay in this firm, stop hiding behind that scarf and show me something worth my time. Otherwise, you can take the next flight back to Delhi."
A titter of laughter broke out among the other designers. Myra felt the blood rush to her face. The sting of his words hurt worse than the physical ache from the nights before.
He turned on his heel and left the room without a second glance.
Myra sank back into her chair, her fingers clutching the edge of the desk. This was the deal, she reminded herself. Discretion. But she hadn't realized that his discretion would feel so much like a rejection.
Underneath the silk scarf, the hickeys felt like they were burning. He had marked her like an animal in private, only to treat her like a stranger in public.
He was playing a game. And Myra was starting to realize that in Reyansh Khurana's world, the rules changed whenever he wanted them to.
Author's Thought
MY HEART IS BREAKING FOR MYRA! 😭💔 Reyansh is being absolutely brutal! Talk about a Jekyll and Hyde personality. One minute he's worshipping her, the next he's dragging her in front of the whole office!