CHAPTER 22
ABHIMAAN
There’s a strange kind of stillness in the air today. Not the peaceful kind. The unsettling kind. Like something’s missing. Like a piece of the rhythm I’ve gotten used to has suddenly gone silent.
No knock on my door. No soft voice reminding me I skipped breakfast. No sarcastic comment about my horrible taste in coffee. And no familiar presence just… hovering around me like she always does—never too close, never too far. Always there.
She’s not here.
Aditi. Took a leave.
The email came in early. Just a line and a half. Not feeling well today, sir. Will return tomorrow. I’ve stared at that message more times than I care to admit. It’s not like she’s never taken a day off before. But this? This feels… different.
Maybe because yesterday—at that stupid intern party—I saw something in her eyes. Something's off. Her nose was red like she’d been crying. And her eyes… sparkled, but not in the way they usually do. Not that mischievous, sharp sparkle. This was… too bright. The kind that comes after tears.
I thought—maybe it was nothing. Maybe someone said something dumb, and she brushed it off like she always does. But she left early.
And now she’s not here. Which means it wasn’t nothing. Which means it stayed with her. Which means it’s staying with me.
I push back my chair, get up, and walk to the window. The city outside moves like clockwork. Busy, loud, heartless. People rushing, horns blaring. The world doesn’t stop just because she’s not here.
But I did.
The moment I stepped into my office and didn’t find her waiting outside, tapping her pen, already two steps ahead of me—I stopped. Somewhere inside.
God. One day.
One goddamn day without her and everything feels... off. Quiet. Colorless.
Not that there was any color before she walked into my life uninvited and rearranged everything. But now that she’s in it, now that I’ve gotten used to the way she walks into a room like she owns it—and then promptly apologizes for breathing too loud—it’s hard not to notice her absence.
Harder than it should be.
I buzz the intercom. “Send Radha to my office. Now.”
A minute later, there’s a knock. Radha walks in, careful, like she already knows this isn’t a normal call. Smart girl. She’s picked up a lot since she joined.
“Sir?”
“Close the door,” I say without turning around.
I hear the click behind me.
I turn to face her. “Tell me what happened at the intern party yesterday.”
She blinks. “I—I don’t know what you mean—”
I raise an eyebrow.
She exhales. Shifts her weight as if trying to regroup.
“There was… a situation,” she finally says.
“Tushar from logistics made a pass at Aditi ma’am.
She turned him down. Politely.” She looks everywhere except at me.
“But he made a comment after.” She scratches her head as if she’s nervous.
“A disgusting one. Implied that she’s only your assistant because…
of something personal between you two. Like she—" She doesn’t finish the sentence. She doesn’t need to.
My fingers tighten into a fist.
“She slapped him,” Radha adds quickly, like that’s supposed to ease the burning fury curling inside my chest. “And then left.”
I nod once, slowly. Not at her. At the understanding. At the rage simmering under my skin. The audacity. The disrespect.
She didn’t tell me. Of course she didn’t.
Because that’s who she is. Always handling things alone. Always pretending it doesn’t hurt.
But she didn’t come in today. Which means it did. Which means I failed her. And that doesn’t sit well with me.
“Prepare the conference room,” I say quietly, voice steady. “Call everyone who was present at that party. Every single one of them. 3 PM sharp.”
She blinks. “Everyone?”
“Everyone.”
“But—”
“No one insults someone who works for me and walks away untouched,” I say, looking her dead in the eye. “Especially not her.”
Radha swallows and nods. “Understood, sir.”
“Dismissed.”
The door shuts behind her, and I sit down again, slowly.
I should get back to the numbers on my screen. The quarterly reports. The calls are waiting. But I can’t. Not until this is dealt with.
It’s been a while since I reminded people who I am.
Maybe I’ve been too quiet lately. Too... distracted.
I guess it’s time I fixed this.
You don’t mess with Aditi.
You don’t get to drag her name through filth.
And you definitely don’t get to make her cry and pretend like nothing happened.
Not under my roof.
Not on my watch.