The clock on the wall of the executive suite chimed 9:00 PM. The cleaning crew had already finished the lower floors, and the silence in Reyansh's office was heavy enough to suffocate. Myra reached for her bag, her eyes burning from staring at the North Tower blueprints.
"Leaving so soon?"
Reyansh was standing by the bar, swirlng a dark amber liquid in a crystal glass. He hadn't turned on the overhead lights; only the city's neon glow illuminated the sharp angles of his face.
"I finished the reports, Mr. Khurana," Myra said, her voice steady despite the flutter in her chest. "I should get back to the penthouse."
"Sit down, Myra." It wasn't a request.
She froze, then slowly sat back in her chair. Reyansh walked toward her, his footsteps silent on the plush carpet. He didn't stop until he was looming over her desk, placing his glass down with a soft thud.
"Tell me about him," he commanded, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous rumble.
Myra swallowed hard. "Who?"
"Your 'boyfriend' from Delhi. The one who was 'visiting.' The one whose name you couldn't seem to remember in the HR office." He leaned down, his hands bracing on either side of her chair, trapping her. "What's his name?"
Myra scrambled for a memory, a face, anything. "His name is... Rohan. Rohan Malhotra."
"What does he do?" Reyansh's eyes were like ice, searching her face for the slightest twitch of a lie.
"What does he do?" Reyansh's eyes were like ice, searching her face for the slightest twitch of a lie.
"He's... a doctor. A surgeon," she blurted out, gaining confidence as the lie took shape. "We met in college. He's kind, Reyansh. He's stable. He doesn't treat people like chess pieces."
She saw the muscle in Reyansh's jaw jump. The mention of 'kindness' and 'stability' was like salt in a wound. He reached out, his thumb catching her chin and forcing her to look up at him.
"A surgeon? How charming," Reyansh sneered, his face inches from hers. "And does this Rohan know that his stable, kind girlfriend spent her night screaming my name on a drafting table? Does he know that every inch of your skin still smells like my cologne?"
"He doesn't need to know," Myra whispered, her heart racing. "It's a contract, remember? You told me yourself—we're strangers here. He's my real life. You're just... the distraction."
The air in the room seemed to vanish. Reyansh's grip on her chin tightened just a fraction—not enough to hurt, but enough to show his dominance. He hated the idea of being the 'distraction.' He hated the idea of another man having the right to her heart while he only had her body.
"A doctor," Reyansh repeated, a dark, mocking smile touching his lips. "Well, Myra, I hope your doctor is patient. Because as long as you're under my 'supervision,' you won't have time for weekend visits or late-night calls. You're mine for sixteen hours a day."
He let go of her abruptly, straightening his tie as if the conversation hadn't just been a battle of wills. "Get out. I'll see you at the penthouse in twenty minutes. And Myra?"
She paused at the door, her hand on the handle.
"If I ever find out Rohan is a ghost... the penalty will be much worse than moving your desk."
Author's Thought
THE LIES WE TELL! 🤥🔥 Myra just invented "Dr. Rohan Malhotra," and Reyansh is absolutely seething with jealousy! He's trying to act like he doesn't care, but we all saw that jaw clench!