Recap: Ryan punched Naveen?

"Stay away from her." Ryan growled, sending a chill down my spine.
Naveen groaned out loud, before straightening up slowly, clutching his face where a vivid red mark was already forming.

"Feeling heroic now, boss man?" Naveen spat, each word drooping with venom.
"I dare you go ahead—tell her what you did!"

Ryan tilted his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. He flexed his fingers again, shaking out the remnants of the punch as if warming up for another.

"Me? Sure. I'll spill," He said, stepping closer to Naveen until there was barely an inch between them.
"How about you go first, Naveen? I’d love to hear your creative take on things."

Naveen let out a hollow, bitter and almost mocking laughter.
"You ruined my life! You're the reason I lost my job, my reputation, everything! Don't you deny your influence like a coward—"

"Yeah, yeah," Ryan cut him off, waving a dismissive hand. "You keep saying that, but all I'm hearing is the world's saddest pity party. If you've got proof, by all means, lay it on the table. Or are you just winging it like always?"

The tension snapped. Naveen's fist shot forward without warning, a blur of rage and frustration. Ryan sidestepped, his reflexes quick, but the second punch grazed his jaw, snapping his head to the side.

My breath caught in my throat as the punch connected—barely, but still it'd hurt. Ryan threw his head back, whipping back his hair and hissed out loud. I flinched instinctively wanting to step in, but my feet refused to move.

Ryan rolled his jaw, his face darkening.
"That's all you've got?" he grumbled, a low chuckle slipping out like a warning wrapped in amusement.

Oh shit! This was not going to end well.

"Guys, come on, let’s calm down. Let's settle it in a gentleman's way?" I tried to intervene, but my words fell on deaf ears. Naveen cracked his knuckles, fists clenched, while Ryan took a calculated step to the side, preparing himself.

Ugh, I can't deal with both of them trying to flaunt their inner 'alpha' like that.

"Fight me, you f*cker!" Naveen lunged again, but Ryan easily caught Naveen's arm, twisting it behind his back with a practiced grip.
Naveen grunted, struggling against the hold, his breaths coming out in ragged bursts.

"This isn’t some bar, Naveen," Ryan growled out, "You’re embarrassing yourself."

"Stop it! Both of you shut it down!" I demanded, my voice cutting through their grunts of struggles.

Ryan hesitated for a second when his eyes met mine, before shoving Naveen away, sending him stumbling forward.

"Fine," Ryan said flatly, straightening his blazer like he hadn't just manhandled someone.
"You want the truth right Naveen? Okay then, I'll be honest. I'll come clean. But first, you dust off your secrets from that little pocket. Tell her why you're tailing after her."

"I'm protecting her, you smug son of a-"

"Protecting her?" Ryan's laugh was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blade. "From what, exactly? Your own mess?"

"Ryan, stop it!" I stepped between them, my pulse pounding in my ears. "What the hell is going on?"

Naveen's chest heaved, his wild eyes darting between Ryan and me.
"He's playing you, Aisha. He's been pulling strings behind the scenes, setting me up—setting you up."

Ryan crossed his arms, leaning back against the wall, his calm demeanor back again.
"Big accusations for someone who can't even keep his own story straight. Go ahead, Aisha—ask him about the missing file. Or better yet, ask why he's so desperate to pin it on me."

Naveen lunged again, his fury overtaking reason. But this time, I stepped in, planting my hand on his chest to stop him.
"Enough!" My voice cracked, but it worked.

Both men froze, their labored breaths the only sound in the charged silence.

"You want me to believe either of you? Fine. But this back-and-forth—this testosterone circus—ends now. Naveen, start talking. Ryan, shut up until he's done."

Ryan raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching, but he said nothing. Naveen looked at me, his expression a mix of desperation and defiance.
"This isn't over," he muttered through clenched jaws, glaring at Ryan.

"No, it's not," Ryan replied coolly. "But don't worry. I'll be right here when you're ready to stop lying."

Naveen’s eyes darted to mine, just for a second, and something unspoken flickered there—anger, regret, or maybe both.

"I'll make sure you regret this. I'm not backing off—not until I see you on the ground," he spat, glaring at Ryan as he turned with a grunt and turned to storm out.
I watched his retreating back, completely baffled. My heart sank as he stumbled slightly on his way out.

Why is he acting like this? What’s really going on?

I barely had a moment to breathe before Ryan grabbed my arm, muttering something about ‘fixing this.’

Fixing what?

______

The beige walls of the secretary's office did nothing to calm my nerves. If anything, the peeling paint and the flickering fluorescent light overhead only amplified the awkwardness in the room. I sat stiffly in the chair, my knees bouncing involuntarily, while Ryan loomed like an angry storm cloud beside me.

Yes, he stormed into our secretary's office/room.
No, he didn’t breathe a word about his brawling session with Naveen afterward—just marched straight to my apartment building like a man on a mission

"Do you even vet who you let into this building?" Ryan's voice cut through the thick air.

Mrs. Malini, a petite woman in her late forties still in her pajamas, barely peeked over her desk. She fumbled with the keyboard, her glasses slipping down her nose as she scrambled to appease Ryan’s relentless questioning. Poor woman.

"Sir, I-I assure you, we have strict protocols in place-"

"A maniac just grabbed my fiancée in the lobby!"
Ryan snapped, making Mrs. Malini flinch and dab nervously at her forehead while I held back the urge to roll my eyes. Fiancée. Again?
That’s the sixth time already!

"We take tenant safety very seriously."
She stammered, clearly overwhelmed by Ryan's intensity.

Ryan leaned forward, resting his slightly bruised knuckles on her desk. His jaw was tight, his eyes sharp as daggers.
"You take it seriously? Then explain how someone who doesn't live here managed to corner her by the elevator."

Mrs. Malini wilted under his gaze, her fingers trembling as she typed furiously on her keyboard.

Probably Googling how to survive an angry CEO.

Meanwhile, I slouched lower in my chair, determined to appear unaffected by Ryan's brooding presence beside me. Not that it was working.

But as I leaned back, gravity had other plans. My balance tipped, and I let out a startled yelp, flailing my arms in a desperate attempt to grab onto something—anything.
Before I could react, I felt the firm grip steadying my chair, pulling me back into balance.

I exhaled sharply, relieved that Ryan saved me. Although his death-glare stayed fixed on Mrs. Malini, not even a flicker of acknowledgment came my way.

Does he possess some kind of superpowers now?

"I'll escalate this to building management immediately," she said, her voice wavering.

"Do that immediately." Ryan snapped. "And hire a good security guard. Not the one who sleeps on his duty."

"Of course, sir."

I cleared my throat, trying to sound as casual as possible.
"Um, Ryan? Can I talk to you for a second? Privately?"

"One moment, sweetheart." 
He turned to me with a smile so sweet it made my stomach twist as he said it in a honey dipped voice.

Sweetheart?! Really?
How far was he planning to take this act?

"We'll handle this, sir. I assure you, there won't be a repeat incident." Mrs. Malini started, throwing a nervous smile.

Ryan straightened, smoothing his tie with that air of authority.
"Good. Because if something like this happens again, I won't just be making a formal complaint. I'll take legal action."

With that, he turned and placed a hand on my shoulder, steering me toward the door.

As soon as we were out of earshot, I yanked my arm free. "Fiancée?" I whisper-hissed, glaring up at him.

"You're welcome."
He chuckled, dryly.

"For what? A sudden upgrade in my relationship status?"

"The secretary was too busy panicking to argue with me. And it got her to take the situation seriously, didn't it?"

I folded my arms, narrowing my eyes at him. "You could’ve gone with 'friend.' Or, here’s a wild idea: tenant."

Ryan shrugged, unfazed.
"Fiancée has more weight. People take it seriously when you claim personal stakes."

Personal stakes? What is this, a business merger?

Before I could retort, he added, "Let's just focus on the real problem. I can't trust this building will provide any security. You're moving."

Wait. What?!

"Moving?!" My voice cracked. "Ryan, this is my home! You can't just-"

"I can, and I will," he interrupted, his tone firm.

I blinked at him, momentarily speechless before planting my feet firmly in the hallway, refusing to budge as Ryan marched ahead like some self-appointed knight in a designer suit. As if!

"Hold it right there, Mister."

He turned with raised eyebrows. "Problem?"

"Oh, no problem at all," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Just a small question—where exactly am I supposed to live if you're so intent on kicking me out of my apartment?"

Ryan crossed his arms smugly before dropping a bomb.
"With me."

For a solid three seconds, I didn't even blink. I totally misheard him. Right?

"With... you?"

"That's what I said."
He shrugged, while saying it. As if he's reading me some breaking news.

I let out a half-chuckle, half scoff.
"Do- Do you hear yourself right now? You want me to just... move in with you?"

"It's practical—"

"And completely insane!" I cut him off, throwing my hands in the air. "Have you lost your mind somewhere around the corner?"

"No. Why would I—"

"Do you even hear yourself right now?" I said, laughing at his ridiculous idea—and at his audacity.
"I like my space, my independence—and I definitely don’t need you acting like my personal bodyguard."

"I wouldn't hover," he shot back, his eyebrows knitting together in defiance. Of all the words I said, he zeroed in on that one stupid word?
Fantastic!

"Oh, please. You'd probably install tracking devices in my socks."

"You think this is a joke?"

"Nope. I think it's ridiculous!"

He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Do you get the slightest idea how dangerous it will be for you? Naveen's not stable and he's after you."

"I'm safe right here, I can take care of my—"

"You'd be safer at my place," he interrupted, cutting through my protest with a sharp gesture.
"It's logical."

"Logical?" I sputtered. "This isn’t a spreadsheet, Ryan—it’s my life! And newsflash: saying something in that bossy tone doesn’t make it a brilliant plan."

Ryan stepped closer, towering over me. "It's the best option. And you know it."

"Best for who? You?" I jabbed my finger at his chest. "Because I'm pretty sure you just want me under your thumb 24/7!"

He caught my hand mid-jab, and before I could protest, he enveloped my hand beneath his broad palm. His eyes bore into mine, a mix of frustration and something...softer. 

"Aisha," he began, his voice steady and slightly lower,  "this isn’t about control. It’s about you. Your safety."

"I get it, okay? But I don’t want it.. I don't want to be anyone's burden," I paused when my voice trembled horribly, betraying me. Tears stung at the corners of my eyes, and I quickly looked away, drawing in a deep, shaky breath before continuing.
"I can handle it myself. If anything happens, I’ll take care of it."

"And how, exactly?"

"I… I’ll move somewhere else. Maybe with Dina..."

"And what if he followed you? Waiting for the perfect moment before he—" His words faltered, his sharp breath filling the pause.
"No,I can’t take that chance."

I yanked my hand back, crossing my arms defensively.

"Well, guess what, Ryan? You don’t get to decide where I live.That’s not how this works." My voice wavered despite my best efforts.

His smirk returned, slow and deliberate. "You sure about that?"

"Oh, positive."

"Great," he said, taking a step back. "Then I'll have my assistant send over the paperwork for your lease termination tomorrow."

"You do that, and I kick his ass." I gritted out, shooting him a glare.

"I'll do what's to be done. But you are not staying here."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Watch me."

"Oh, I will." I retorted back, fuming, while he gave me a self-satisfied curt nod before casually turning on his heel.

"Start packing, sweetheart," he called over his shoulder, his voice echoing as he strode confidently down the hallway.

Clenching my fist, I kept glaring at his retreating back.
I’ve fought too hard to stand on my own to let him take over now.

Move in with him? Ha! Over my dead body.

*******

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