CHAPTER 15! HOTEL #2
The question shouldn't have affected her. Yet for the first time all evening, she found herself wondering whether sharing a room with Aryav Shinghania was actually more dangerous for her-or for him.
Aryav looked away first.
Which somehow felt like the more alarming possibility.
The suite felt too small. Not because of the walls. Because of him.
Aadhira disappeared into the massive marble washroom first, desperately needing physical distance if only for ten quiet minutes to steady her pulse.
By the time she stepped out again, she had changed into a soft lavender cotton kurta and loose pajama pants.
Her damp hair fell over one shoulder in dark, unstyled waves, smelling faintly of jasmine.
Aryav looked up once from where he stood near the expansive glass window. Just once.
Water clung to the ends of her damp hair, darkening the lavender fabric at her shoulder.
Aryav looked away , his gaze moving slowly, deliberately over her frame before returning to the screen of his phone.
He had changed too during her absence. Black lounge pants. A fitted charcoal t-shirt that clung to the sharp, broad lines of his shoulders.
No heavy platinum watch. No structured blazer. No visible symbols of the global corporate empire he carried on his back.
Without the suit, he looked human. Which, somehow, made him more dangerous.
She had spent weeks convincing herself that Aryav Rai Shinghania was a force of nature.
Forces of nature weren't supposed to stand barefoot beside rain-soaked windows.
Aadhira quietly walked toward the edge of the deep plush sofa, tucking her bare feet beneath herself while a heavy roll of thunder vibrated through the floorboards outside.
Aryav placed his phone face down on the side table, his dark eyes locking onto her position. "What do you want to eat?"
"Nothing."
Aryav looked at her for a moment too long. "That wasn't the question."
Aadhira sighed softly under the immense pressure of that look, her shoulders dropping slightly. "Agar chicken aur paneer ek hi kadai mein bana diya toh?"
she muttered defensively, looking away. "No. I'm not taking that risk. I'll just go home and eat later."
For one full, unblinking second, Aryav simply looked at her. Then-
"The hotel possesses two entirely separate kitchens."
She blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
"One exclusively vegetarian. One non-vegetarian." His baritone remained perfectly flat. Informational. Executive. "Nothing overlaps."
Aadhira stared at him suspiciously across the ambient light of the suite. "And how exactly do you know that level of internal operational detail?"
"I own thirty-one percent of this hospitality chain."
Naturally.
Aadhira looked away quickly toward the rain-slicked window before the corner of her mouth could betray her amusement.
"...Fine," she conceded quietly.
Aryav waited in perfect silence.
She realized with a sudden jolt that he was expecting her specific order.
"Dal fry," she stated clearly. "And jeera rice."
Aryav picked up the sleek room phone immediately. His ordering style was terrifyingly efficient-the exact same way he handled cross-border acquisitions.
No hesitation.
No filler words.
No unnecessary politeness to ease the room.
"Dal fry and jeera rice. Vegetarian kitchen." A pause. "Grilled chicken. Black pepper sauce." Another pause. "Separate carts. Separate seals."
He disconnected.
Silence settled over the penthouse suite once more. The rain outside intensified into a furious roar, a jagged flash of lightning briefly illuminating the vast glass walls and throwing his tall silhouette into sharp relief against the storm.
Aadhira tried very hard, using every ounce of her cognitive strength, not to notice how terrifyingly domestic this scenario looked.
Which was an incredibly difficult task when Aryav casually loosened the sleeves of his t-shirt before sitting directly across from her at the modern dining table-behaving as if he weren't the exact same clinical monster who had psychologically dismantled an entire luxury floor of elite stylists
just two hours prior.
Forty minutes later, the hospitality staff arrived with two separate, heavily insulated serving carts.
One was explicitly marked with a green vegetarian seal; one was marked non-vegetarian.
Aadhira inspected her food suspiciously for nearly thirty seconds, looking for any flaw in the packaging before finally accepting the plates.
Aryav noticed the scrutiny. He always did.
"They won't mix them."
He didn't look up from his plate.
"Nobody here is paid enough to survive disappointing me."
"I know," she muttered under her breath.
But she still checked the labels.
Twice.
The two of them began eating in complete, unyielding silence. Only the steady sound of the downpour and distant thunder filled the massive suite.
Aryav ate with the exact same controlled, methodical precision he applied to every other aspect of his existence.
Calm. Rhythmic. Minimal physical movement.
Meanwhile, Aadhira tried very hard not to notice how attractive he looked in a plain charcoal t-shirt.
Which irritated her deeply.
Then her mind wandered somewhere it had absolutely no business going.
Her gaze dropped briefly to the untouched edge of his glass. A ridiculous thought surfaced before she could stop it. If he leaned across the table right now-
She nearly choked on her food.
The thought vanished instantly, leaving heat crawling up the back of her neck.
Radha Rani.
What was wrong with her?
They were a business transaction.
A negotiation.
A contract wrapped in wedding rituals. Nothing more.
She shook her head sharply once, trying to physically remove the stray thought from her reality.
Across the table, Aryav slowly, deliberately lowered his fork against the porcelain plate.
His eyes narrowed slightly as he tracked her erratic movements.
"Why do you keep making that face?"
Aadhira froze. "I'm not."
Aryav set his fork down. "Then why are you looking at me like that?"
Her face heated instantly, a fierce blush spreading rapidly from her neck to her cheeks. "It's nothing. Just a stray thought."
Aryav leaned back slightly in his leather chair, crossing his arms over his chest, watching her with a dark, unreadable calm that made her feel entirely transparent.
The storm outside cracked violently, a loud boom of thunder rattling the glass. Inside the suite, his heavy gaze remained fixed on her blushing face for one long, silent second before his lips parted again.
"That wasn't random."
Aadhira stared at her plate. "It was."
"You're a terrible liar."
Her pulse stumbled. She hated that he was smiling. She hated even more that she wasn't entirely certain he was.
Aryav took another sip of water. "Fortunately for you," he said calmly, "I've already decided not to investigate."
Aryav stands.
Collects his empty plate.
Aryav carried his plate toward the kitchen.
Halfway there, he stopped.
"For future reference."
Aadhira looked up.
He still wasn't facing her.
"You think louder than you realize."
Then he kept walking.