Sia stood inside the old telephone booth outside the post office, the narrow space smelling faintly of rust, dust, and overheated wires. The glass panels were smudged and clouded with age, turning the world outside into blurred shadows. It was late evening, and the street was almost empty, yet the silence felt unnatural, as if something — or someone — was watching.

She pulled her dupatta closer around her face and stepped fully inside. The folding door creaked shut behind her. Too loud. Everything felt too loud these days.

Her fingers trembled despite her efforts to steady them as she dialed the number from memory. She had not written it anywhere. She never would. If they caught her, there could be no trace.

The phone began to ring...Once....Twice.....Three times.

Each ring tightened around her chest like a rope.

What if he didn't pick up? What if they were there? What if— Click.

"Hello?"

Her breath stopped. It was him....Older. Tired. But him.

Her throat burned as if something sharp had lodged there. "Father... it's me."

There was sudden shuffling on the other end, as though he had quickly moved somewhere private.

"Sia?" he whispered urgently. "Beta, are you okay? Tell me you're safe. Are you hurt? Did anyone follow you?"

"I'm fine," she said quickly, though her voice wavered. "I'm safe."

"Good... good you called from outside," he murmured. "Don't ever call from one place twice. They've been coming here. Asking questions about you. They're watching the house, Sia. They're searching for you."

Her eyes immediately scanned the street through the dirty glass. A passing scooter. A stray dog digging through trash. A man lighting a cigarette.

Normal things. Yet nothing felt normal anymore.

Her grip tightened around the receiver.

"I told you not to worry," she said softly but firmly. "They won't find me. I've been careful."

"How can I not worry?" his voice cracked. "You're my daughter. You disappeared overnight. You think a father can sleep peacefully like this?"

The words stabbed deeper than any threat. She closed her eyes. For months she had trained herself to be strong, cold, alert.

But his voice... it dragged her straight back home. 

"I didn't want to leave you alone," she whispered. "Not like this."

"Then come back," he pleaded. "We'll face everything together. I don't care about anything else. I just want you safe in front of my eyes."

Her chest tightened painfully.If only it were that simple.

"If I come back now," she said quietly, "they'll use you to get to me. I can't let that happen. I won't let them touch you because of me."

Silence. She could hear him breathing. Heavy. Emotional.

Then softer, breaking, he said, "The house feels empty without you, Sia. Your room is just... there. I still keep your light on some nights. It feels like you'll walk out and ask for tea."

Her lips trembled. She pressed her forehead against the cold glass of the booth.

"I miss home," she admitted.

Her voice cracked completely.

"I miss you, Father. Every day."

On the other end, he sniffed quietly, trying to hide it.

"I miss you more, my girl," he said. "Every time the phone rings, I pray it's you. Every knock on the door scares me that it might be bad news. A father shouldn't have to live like this."

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence wasn't empty. It was full of unshed tears. Full of distance. Full of love.

Then Sia straightened. The softness in her eyes slowly hardened. She could not afford to break. Not now.

"Five more months," she said, her voice steady again, steel replacing softness. "Just five more months. Let me finish what they started. After that, I'll come back. And when I do... no one will ever threaten us again."

He understood what she meant and that scared him.

"Sia... don't lose yourself," he said gently. "Promise me that whatever you're doing... you'll come back as my daughter. Not someone else."

Her chest ached at that.

"I'm still your daughter," she whispered. "Always."

"Take care of yourself. Eat properly. Sleep. Don't be reckless."

A faint smile touched her lips. "You sound like Ma."

"She'd have scolded you twice as much."

They both laughed softly, the sound fragile and short-lived.

"I'll call you in a few days," she said. "Don't answer unknown numbers. And don't open the door for strangers."

"Yes, madam," he teased weakly.

She didn't hang up immediately. She just listened. Listened to his breathing. Memorizing it. As if afraid she might forget.

Finally, with shaking fingers, she placed the receiver back. The dial tone hummed in the empty booth. She stood there for a few seconds longer, staring at nothing, fighting the tears she refused to let fall. Then she wiped her face, opened the creaking door, and stepped back into the dark street.

Alone again But stronger. Because missing him hurt And that pain reminded her exactly why she had to survive And why she had to win.

The next day Sia reached the office building, the softness from the phone call had already disappeared. The daughter who missed her father stayed behind in that dusty telephone booth. The other Sia — the careful one, the unreadable one — walked forward.

She adjusted her mask, both the literal one covering half her face and the invisible one she wore every day. Shoulders straight. Expression blank. No emotions. No attachments.

The glass doors of Adhiraj Enterprises slid open with a soft mechanical hum. The lobby smelled of fresh polish and coffee. Employees moved around with files and laptops, their voices low and professional. It was safe here — or at least it looked safe.

Still, habit made her scan every corner. Entrances. Exits. Faces. Always alert.

"Good morning, Sia," the receptionist greeted with a warm smile.

It was Shweta. One of the few people Sia didn't mind.

"Good morning," Sia replied politely.

She had never been good at small talk. Mingling with people felt unnatural, like speaking a language she had never properly learned. Maybe it was how she had grown up — always careful, always guarded, never fully belonging anywhere.

But a few people in this office were genuinely kind...Helpful....Human.

And Adhiraj sir... he was one of them. Which still surprised her. If someone had described him to her before she joined, she would have expected an arrogant, ruthless CEO — the kind who barked orders and crushed employees under deadlines.

Instead, he listened. He asked for opinions. He thanked people. He remembered birthdays. He treated even interns with respect. It confused her sometimes — how someone powerful could still remain decent.

She reached her cabin, placed her bag down, and opened the blinds slightly. Light flooded the desk. Normal....Routine....Safe.

She opened the new account sheets and began reviewing the numbers, letting work silence her thoughts. Stretch. Breathe. Focus.

Then her laptop pinged.

An email notification.

From: Natasha Dutta.

Her expression didn't change, but her fingers paused for a second. They had been assigned to work together on the new project and Sia had to admit — Natasha was sharp...Smart and efficient.

The kind of woman who understood business instinctively. But... Rumors followed her like shadows.

For the past few days, Natasha had been coming to the office frequently, asking to meet Adhiraj sir.

And every single time— He refused....Politely....Firmly...Shut door.

No meetings. No personal conversations. At first, Sia had ignored it. But curiosity had gotten the better of her one afternoon.

She had casually asked Shweta, "Why doesn't sir meet natasha? She seems... persistent."

Shweta had lowered her voice immediately, as if sharing gossip about a celebrity.

"The whole city knows about her," she had said. "She was his girlfriend when he had nothing. When he was broke. Then she left him for someone richer."

Sia had blinked. "Oh."

"He was devastated back then. Completely shattered. And now that sir has everything — success, money, respect — she wants to come back."

Sia had thought quietly for a moment and then said, "Maybe she realized she loves him. Sometimes you only understand someone's value after losing them."

Shweta had shrugged. "Maybe. But Natasha's been with many men these past few years. Everyone knows. She sleeps around for money and status...she is a whore"

The words had felt ugly. Sia had hated how easily people labeled others. She never liked putting women into boxes. Men could be womanizers for years, then suddenly 'change' for one girl and be called devoted husbands.

But if a woman made mistakes? She was branded forever. Hypocrisy.

Still, she had said nothing. She wasn't here to judge anyone. Work was work. Personal lives were messy. Not her business.

She opened Natasha's email now.

Professional. Direct. Project details attached.

No emotion....Just work.

That, she respected.

Sia tried to keep things strictly professional with her. No unnecessary drama. No personal remarks. Just tasks and deadlines. But Natasha wasn't easy. She had a sharp tongue and little patience.

Last week during a meeting, Sia had suggested an alternate strategy for client acquisition. Natasha had dismissed it instantly.

"That will never work," she had said flatly, not even looking at the data. "Too idealistic."

The rejection had stung more than Sia expected. Not because her idea was rejected. But because it wasn't even heard. Still, Sia had swallowed her pride, refined the proposal, and later presented it directly to Adhiraj. He had studied it carefully. Asked questions. Listened.

And then said, "This is actually the best possible outcome for the project. Good thinking, Sia."

Simple praise but genuine.

After that day, Natasha had barely spoken to her properly...Cold....Distant...Almost hostile.

Sia noticed. But she didn't react. She had learned long ago — If someone tried to make you feel small, you didn't shrink. You stood straighter.She wasn't someone who tolerated nonsense. If pushed too far, she would push back twice as hard.

Quiet didn't mean weak. Never had.

She leaned back in her chair and stared at the spreadsheet on her screen. Outside the cabin, people laughed. Phones rang. Life moved normally.

Yet somewhere deep inside her, the weight of the morning call still lingered. Her father's voice. His loneliness. His "I miss you." For a second, her chest tightened again. She quickly blinked it away. Not now. Work first. Feelings later. Always later.

Because if she let herself feel too much—she might want to go home and going home wasn't safe....Not yet.

So she adjusted her mask again, straightened her posture, and started typing...Efficient...Cold...Untouchable.

Just another employee in the office. Not a daughter. Not someone being hunted. Just Sia.

Somewhere else,

Natasha was burning. Not with love. Not even with regret. With rage. The kind that ate you from the inside and refused to let you sleep.

She stood in front of the mirror in her apartment, staring at her own reflection as if it were an enemy.

How had it come to this? How had he become untouchable?

Adhiraj.

The same man who once waited outside her office with cheap flowers. The same man who used to skip meals just to save money for her birthday gifts. The same man she had walked away from without looking back.

Back then he had nothing. No money. No influence. No future worth betting on and she had chosen security over love. Status over struggle. Someone richer. Someone safer.

She had told herself it was practical...Smart....Necessary.

But now?

Now his face was on magazine covers.

Business awards. Interviews. Successful. Respected. Powerful and every time she saw him on a screen, smiling that calm, confident smile—

something twisted inside her chest. It should have been her standing beside him....Her.

She had tried calling him.

Again and again. Each time the same response.

"I'm in a relationship, Natasha. I don't cheat."

Polite....Firm....Distant.

As if she were nothing. As if they had never shared years together. As if she were just another stranger.

Her nails dug into her palms.

Relationship? She knew he was lying.

There was no woman. She had checked. Asked around. Watched. He barely socialized outside work. No dates.No rumors.Nothing.

So why was he pushing her away? Pride? Ego? Punishment?

She was tired of this game. Tired of waiting outside his office like some desperate girl. Tired of being rejected by the one man who once couldn't live without her.

Enough.

If he wouldn't come to her willingly—she would force the situation. Her mind, sharp and calculating, began to piece the plan together. There was a corporate conference next Saturday.

Big event. Media coverage. Outstation clients. All senior executives attending. Including him.

Which meant— hotel rooms would be pre-booked. Security passes issued. Staff movements scheduled and Natasha knew people.

Reception managers. Event coordinators. Men who owed her favors. Getting access to his room wouldn't be difficult.All she needed was the right timing. The right setup. The right narrative.

She exhaled slowly....Cold.....Methodical.

If she entered his room late at night...

If someone "accidentally" saw them together...

If the paid media she knew arrived at just the right moment...

Headlines would explode by morning.

Adhiraj reunited with ex-girlfriend.

Late-night meeting sparks reconciliation rumors.

Images were stronger than truth and Adhiraj was many things— but he wasn't the kind of man who ruined a woman's reputation publicly.

If the world believed they were involved... He wouldn't deny it harshly. He wouldn't drag her name through the mud. He was too honorable for that.

Too careful. Too decent. And that decency... That was exactly what she planned to use against him.

A slow smile curved on her lips. Not loving. Not warm. Dangerous.

"Let's see how long you keep saying no," she murmured to her reflection.

Because this time... she wasn't asking. She was taking. By hook or by crook— Adhiraj would be hers. Even if she had to burn his perfect world to the ground to make it happen.

The day of the conference finally arrived. The entire office had been buzzing since morning. Phones ringing nonstop. Assistants running between departments. Last-minute presentations being printed. Emails flying back and forth like bullets.

Adhiraj had already left early for the hotel venue with the senior team. By late evening, the office had slowly started emptying. Only a few lights remained on. Only the overworked ones stayed back and Sia was one of them.

She sat alone in her cabin, staring at rows of numbers on the latest account sheet. The white light from the screen hurt her eyes.Her shoulders ached. Her neck felt stiff. She hadn't slept properly in days.

Between hiding, planning, worrying about her father, and working overtime... her body was finally giving up. She leaned back and closed her eyes for a second. Just one second. All she wanted was to go to the shelter. To Meher. To those noisy kids who clung to her arms and called her "didi" like she was their whole world.

Their laughter healed something inside her. No politics. No danger. No past. Just warmth. She imagined lying down on the thin mattress there, listening to their soft chatter, and finally sleeping without fear. That thought alone made her tired bones ache for home.

"Just ten more minutes," she murmured to herself.

She finished updating the last column, saved the file, and shut down her system...Done....Finally.

She packed her laptop, stacked the papers neatly, and slung her bag over her shoulder....Freedom.

She had just stepped out of her cabin— Her phone rang. She froze.

Her first instinct was always fear. Unknown numbers meant danger....Always. Her pulse spiked before she even looked at the screen. Then she exhaled.

Office number. She answered.

"Hello?"

"Sia?" It was Adhiraj's secretary. "Sir needs the latest file for Mr. Verma immediately."

She frowned. "But the soft copy is already shared in the mail."

"Yes, but Mr. Verma prefers physical documents. He's old school. He doesn't trust screens," he said quickly. "Sir doesn't want to miss this opportunity. This deal is important."

She pinched the bridge of her nose. Of course. Paper. Always paper.

"I've already packed up for the day—"

"I'll message you the hotel details. Please bring it personally," he rushed. "Sir asked specifically."

Before she could refuse— The call ended.

She stared at the phone. Annoyance bubbled up.

"Great," she muttered under her breath. All she wanted was rest.

Instead, she had to travel across the city to deliver files like a courier. For a second she considered saying no. But then— Adhiraj's face flashed in her mind. The way he always supported the team. The way he stayed back for everyone else. The way he respected her ideas.

He had never treated her like "just staff." She sighed.

"Fine."

She turned back. First stop — washroom. The fluorescent lights inside made her look worse than she felt. Dark circles. Pale skin. Exhaustion written all over her face. She splashed cold water again and again. The chill helped...A little.

She tied her short hair properly, combed it back with her fingers, and straightened her oversized shirt and loose trousers.

Practical. Comfortable. Invisible. Just how she preferred it. No makeup. No fuss. She didn't like attention. Attention meant questions. Questions meant risk.

After drying her face, she looked at herself in the mirror. Blank expression. Calm eyes. Mask back on.

Good.

She walked to Adhiraj's cabin, unlocked the drawer with the spare key, and pulled out the neatly arranged files. Mr. Verma's account. Contracts. Financial projections. Everything clipped and labeled.

She tucked them securely into her bag. The office around her was almost empty now. Only the cleaning staff remained.The silence felt strange....Echoing.

For a brief moment, a cold shiver ran down her spine. Too quiet. She didn't know why—but something felt... off.

Maybe just exhaustion. Maybe paranoia or maybe instinct. She shook it off. Locked the cabin. Switched off the lights and stepped out of the building.

The night air hit her face...Cool....Heavy.

Somewhere far away, thunder rumbled. She hailed a cab and gave the hotel address. As the city lights blurred past the window, she rested her head back and closed her eyes.

Just drop the file....Leave...Go to the shelter...Sleep...Simple.

She had no idea— That at the same hotel... Someone else was already planning a very different night.

Sia called the secretary as soon as her cab stopped outside the hotel.

"I'm here," she said quietly.

"Yes, yes," he replied, sounding rushed. "I'm outside greeting the guests. Sir is still in meetings. I can't leave the entrance unattended."

"So how do I give him the file?"

"I'll send someone—wait, no... that will take time." He paused, then lowered his voice. "Listen, i m sending the spare key with someone. Go to his room and keep the file on the table. He's in a conference call anyway. Just drop it and leave."

She hesitated. Going into someone's private room felt... wrong. But she was already here.

"Fine," she sighed.

Few minutes later, someone came and  handed her the key card and rushed back to the guests...Simple...Go up. Keep the file. Leave.

Five minutes. That's all.

The hotel lobby was grand and glowing with golden lights. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and soft piano music drifted through the air. Polished marble floors reflected everything like glass.

For a moment, Sia forgot her tiredness. It was beautiful. Too beautiful. Like a place she didn't belong in. She pressed the elevator button and rode up to the fourth floor. The corridor was quiet. Too quiet.

As she stepped out, she noticed a few people sitting on the sofas near the corner, talking in hushed voices. Two men. A woman. Cameras near their bags.

Something about them felt... strange. But she was too exhausted to overthink. Probably media or guests. Not her problem.

She walked to Room 404.

Knocked once. No answer. Right. He was on a call. The secretary had told her to just enter. She slid the key card in.

Click.

The door opened. She stepped into the suite and paused. It was enormous. Soft lighting. Plush carpet. A large bed. A sitting area. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city lights. It didn't even look like a room. It looked like a small apartment.

She quickly walked to the table near the bed and placed the file down...Done...Leave.

Then— She heard water running. The shower. Her eyes widened.

"Oh God," she muttered under her breath.

Of course. Perfect timing. She just had to leave before he came out.

She turned to go— Her elbow accidentally hit the glass on the table.

It toppled. Water spilled. The glass shattered on the floor. The sound echoed loudly in the silent suite. Her heart dropped.

And immediately—  The bathroom door opened with a soft, deliberate click that sounded unnaturally loud in the quiet suite and then Adhiraj stepped out.

A white towel hung low around his waist, carelessly knotted as though he had wrapped it without thinking. His hair was still wet, dark strands clinging to his forehead and temples. Tiny droplets of water traced slow paths down the strong lines of his neck, sliding over his collarbone, across the broad expanse of his chest, and further down the firm planes of his stomach before disappearing beneath the towel.

Steam followed him out of the bathroom, curling around him like a haze....Warm....Misty...Intimate.

He looked freshly showered and completely at ease, shoulders relaxed, posture loose, unaware of being watched. Nothing like the perfectly suited, sharply controlled CEO she saw every day behind conference tables and glass cabins.

This version of him had no armor...No tie...No walls...This version of him was real...Raw...Dangerously human.

For a second, her mind went completely blank. She had never seen a man like this before. So close. So exposed. So devastatingly handsome that it almost hurt to look. Her heart slammed violently against her ribs.

Heat rushed straight to her face and spread down her neck.

"Oh God—"

She spun around instantly, staring at the wall as if it could save her.

"S-sorry, sir!" she stammered, her voice tripping over itself. "Mr. Mehta told me to keep the files... I dropped the glass... I'm leaving!"

The words tumbled out in a rush.

Why was she even explaining? Just leave....Run.

She hurried toward the door, her pulse wild and uneven, her fingers cold despite the warmth of the room. But before she could reach it, her foot caught in the edge of the rug. Everything tilted violently.

The floor rushed toward her. A gasp tore out of her throat— And then—

A strong arm wrapped around her waist...Firm...Fast...Unyielding.

She was pulled backward with sudden force....Hard. Instead of crashing into the floor, she collided straight into him.

Her breath left her lungs in a rush. Her palms landed flat against his bare chest...Warm...Solid. Unmistakably muscular beneath damp skin. His body was still hot from the shower, radiating heat through the thin fabric of her sleeves. She could feel the steady, powerful thud of his heartbeat beneath her fingers.

Alive....Close...Too close.

His hand tightened instinctively around her waist to steady her, his fingers spreading across her back as though afraid she might slip again.

Large....Protective...Possessive without meaning to be. There wasn't an inch of space between them. Her body fit against his as if gravity itself had decided to hold her there.

The faint scent of soap and something distinctly him surrounded her — clean, sharp, and deeply masculine. Her thoughts scattered. She had never been this close to any man before. Never felt bare skin. Never felt this kind of heat. Never been held like this.

Her breath turned shaky.

And to her shock— his breath wasn't steady either. For one long, stunned moment, neither of them moved. Time seemed to stretch thin and heavy around them.

Electric...Her fingers curled unconsciously against his chest, gripping the towel for balance. She could feel the strength beneath her palms, the effortless way he was holding her upright as if she weighed nothing at all.

Her heart was racing so loudly she was sure he could hear it.

Slowly— almost against her will— she looked up.

Their eyes met and the world shrank.

No hotel. No files. No office. No danger. Just him. His gaze wasn't annoyed. Wasn't professional. Wasn't distant. It was darker....Deeper. Intense in a way that made her stomach flip and her throat go dry.

His eyes flickered, just for a fraction of a second, down to her lips. Then back to her eyes. The air between them thickened...Heavy....Breathless. If either of them moved even an inch— she didn't know what would happen.

And somehow... that terrified her more than anything else.

And then— A loud bang shattered the moment.

The door burst open so violently that it slammed against the wall with a deafening crash.

"Sir!"

"Adhiraj sir!"

"Over here!"

Voices overlapped chaotically as a swarm of people rushed inside without permission. Before either of them could react, blinding white flashes exploded across the room.

Click.

Click.

Click-click-click.

Cameras fired nonstop, the harsh lights cutting through the warm haze of the suite like lightning. For a second, Sia couldn't even see. Her eyes burned. Her heart dropped straight into her stomach. Reporters. At least five or six of them. Microphones. Cameras. Phones raised high.

All pointed directly at them. At her. Still pressed against him. Still in his arms. Questions started flying one after another, sharp and merciless like bullets.

"Sir, who is this woman?"

"Adhiraj sir, are you in a relationship?"

"Is she your girlfriend?"

"Are you secretly meeting someone in your room?"

"Is this an affair?"

"Sir, answer us!"

"Are you hiding your personal life from the public?"

The flashes kept going off, faster now, capturing every angle, every second, every breath. Sia's mind went blank. Panic surged through her veins. This wasn't just embarrassing. This was dangerous.

If her face appeared anywhere— If her identity got exposed— Everything she had been hiding would collapse.

Instinctively, she tried to step back. But before she could move— Adhiraj reacted....Fast.

His arm tightened around her shoulders, pulling her completely behind him, shielding her with his body like a wall....Protective....Fierce....Possessive.

She disappeared behind his broad frame as he stepped forward, blocking every camera. His voice, when he spoke, was no longer calm. It was cold...Sharp....Terrifying.

"Who the hell let you in?" he thundered.

And suddenly, the entire room fell silent.

Hello readers ❤️

Don't forget to vote and comment if you're enjoying the story. Your support truly means everything to me and keeps me motivated to write faster and better for you all.

Things are getting intense now... secrets, misunderstandings, unexpected twists — and this is just the beginning.

What do you think is going to happen next? Will Sia get trapped in this mess? What is Natasha planning now? And how will Adhiraj handle everything after that shocking announcement?

Share your theories, guesses, and predictions in the comments. I love reading them!

See you in the next chapter ✨