ch 4 THE OWNER
Ashiana's POV
Her laugh slipped out sharper than she meant, but she held it, clinging to it like armor. "Kya—tumhara office? Oh my God. Tumhe kya lagta hai, duniya ki saari cheezein tumhari hi hain?" She folded her arms, chin lifting in defiance. "Proof kya hai tumhare paas?"
Don't blink. Don't let him see you're scared.
Aarav's smirk deepened, slow and deliberate, like he was savoring her words.
Then he stepped forward one step, then another until the air itself seemed to bow beneath his presence.
His six-foot-three frame loomed over her desk, swallowing the fragile space she thought she had .
Why does being this close make my chest squeeze? Breathe.
"Proof?" His voice was quiet, calm... but deadly calm.
He slid his hand into his suit pocket with unnerving patience, and when he pulled it out,
ohh No. gun. knife. rose. handkerchief. sword. poiseeennnnn
the gleam of black and gold caught the light. A card. Heavy. Official. Malhotra Industries crest pressed deep into it. He set it on her desk with a soft, final tap like a gavel sealing her fate.
Her breath stilled. The laughter she had worn like a mask cracked at the edges.
"The name on the building," Aarav said, each word slow, precise, "is mine. The chair you're sitting on, the desk under your hands... mine. And from today, even the interns here—" his storm-grey gaze bore into hers, unblinking—"answer to me."
For a heartbeat, her throat closed. His eyes were so close, so merciless, she swore he could hear her pulse stutter. Move, Ashiana. Say something. Don't fold.
Aarav's POV
She clutched the card like a drowning girl holding a rope. Not pleading for life. Not for mercy. For an internship. The absurdity of it almost made him laugh but he didn't. Instead, something sharper slid through his chest, something that caught him off guard.
She's not breaking. Not in the way others do. She's... different.
He let the silence drag, metallic taps of his ring against her desk slicing through the air. Each clink echoed, and she flinched with every sound.
Finally, his voice broke the stillness smooth, calm, but with an edge that cut clean. "You think I'd waste my time firing interns?" He leaned back slightly, though his presence still pressed down on her like steel. "Relax. No one's throwing you out."
He studied her face wide hazel eyes desperately trying to mask panic, lips trembling even as she tried to smirk. Stubborn. Terrified. And still talking back to me. Dangerous combination.
His smirk curved again, but this time darker, slower, the kind that promised storms. He leaned closer, so near she could feel the whisper of his breath.
"But..." His voice dropped, low and dangerous, each word heavy enough to make her pulse hammer. "...if you want to survive here, Ashiana, you'll learn one thing."
She froze, trapped in his storm-grey gaze, every instinct screaming run.
"Never talk to me," he said, his tone pure steel, "like the road belongs to your father again."
because its mine.