AFTAAB'S POV
The phone rang before I even made it upstairs.
I pushed open the office door and stopped.
Something was off.
It wasn't the scent or the light—I wasn't a man who noticed such things.
But I noticed order.
And someone had disrupted mine.
The curtains weren't the same. The folds were too soft, too even. The table had been shifted slightly—barely noticeable, but I built my world on noticing such things.
Even the pen on my desk wasn't where I left it.
Someone had been here. In my absence. In my space.
I ended the call and stood in the center of the room, still.
Unwelcome hands had touched things that weren't theirs.
And the idea of it sparked something sharp in my chest.
My rules were clear. My boundaries tighter than the security on the estate.
No one entered this room without permission. Not staff. Not family.
This wasn't just carelessness. It was intrusion.
And I didn't tolerate intrusion.
A name wasn't important—yet. But there was a slip-up somewhere in the system. And I didn't like slip-ups.
I opened the door and stepped out of my study, jaw set.
The scent still lingered. A floral trace in the air that didn't belong. Someone had crossed the line, and I intended to find out who.
As I walked into the corridor, I saw them.
Sara. And the girl.
They hadn't moved far from the hall. The girl stood quietly, back straight, arms at her sides. Sara, on the other hand, leaned in too close, her words low but biting—her kind of correction never needed an audience.
She was still speaking when she noticed me.
And just like that, her spine straightened, voice turned to honey, and hands folded neatly in front of her.
"Everything alright?" she asked with a faint, too-pleasant smile.
I didn't answer her. My eyes flicked over to the girl—same one from earlier. Quiet. Steady.
Then I turned slightly, addressing a house staff member nearby without shifting my tone.
"Who accessed my study today?"
There was a pause. Tension stretched the moment.
Before the staff could speak, the girl stepped forward.
Not hesitantly. Not defiantly either.
Just... clear.
"It was me," she said.
Her voice was soft, but it didn't waver.
"Who gave you the permission?" I asked.
CHAAYA'S POV
My pulse drummed at my throat.
I could feel Sara's presence behind me — warm as breath, cold as shadow — the faint chime of my bangles marking the seconds.
My gaze stayed locked on Aftaab, my lips parting.
"It was—"
"Me."
Sara's voice cut through like silk drawn across a blade — soft, but ending me all the same.
We both turned toward her.
She stepped forward, shoulders poised, that faint curve of her mouth balancing between charm and challenge.
"I sent her," she said with a benevolence so perfectly feigned it almost sounded generous.
Then, a pause long enough to taste the shift in the air.
"I told her to handle some work for me. But..." Her gaze slid toward me, the smile still in place, but sharpened at the edges. "...I didn't say anything about entering your study."
Her tone was almost apologetic, but it smuggled in the suggestion that I had crossed the line on my own.
"I assumed she'd work in the common hall — that's where I leave all my documents," Sara added lightly, tilting her head toward Aftaab. "Perhaps she misunderstood me."
Silk words, barbed meaning.
I had been silenced before I could speak, then dressed in guilt I hadn't earned.
Aftaab's eyes found mine — steady, unreadable.
Sara shifted closer to him, lowering her voice to a private register.
"I would never let anyone disturb your space without asking. You know that."
The faint perfume she wore coiled in the air, heavy and inescapable.
My hands curled into my skirt, the fabric biting my fingers.
Two gazes pressed into me — one weighing, one winning.