Chapter 28
Amyra
“Shanaya ma’am, what is the time and location of the international conference tomorrow?”
We had just reached the luxury hotel straight from the Singapore airport, checked in at the reception, and were about to head to our suites when Karan and Reyansh nudged me forward to ask about the conference details.
“Alright, ma’am. We’ll be on time,” I reply with a nod, Reyansh and Karan mirroring it instantly.
“Good. Revise the conference documents before the day ends, and be prepared for tomorrow. Also, feel free to explore the hotel and the surroundings, Singapore is a lovely place. See you tomorrow morning.” Then the mentors step into the elevator, leaving first, since their suites are on a different wing. We proceed to another elevator.
“Let’s settle into our suites first,” Karan suggests as we move ahead. I notice Reyansh quietly grabbing my trolley suitcase and pulling it along.
“I can hold that—”
“That’s fine. Keep walking.”
Always in protective mode around me!
The hotel rises along Marina Bay like a statement carved in glass and steel, quietly powerful and unmistakably elite.
Everything here moves with intention. Marble floors echo faintly beneath measured footsteps.
The air carries the subtle scent of white tea and polished wood.
Conversations stay low, respectful. This is a place that understands privacy as a language of its own.
After taking the elevator to the fifth floor, we turn right into the corridor.
It’s hushed, carpeted in deep charcoal, bathed in soft golden lighting that never fully fades, even at midnight.
Floor-to-ceiling windows at the far end open to the Marina skyline, city lights stretching endlessly, a reminder that Singapore never truly sleeps.
Our suites are positioned side by side: Reyansh’s in the center, mine on the left side, Karan’s on the right.
“See you tomorrow, guys.” I take the suitcase from Reyansh and turn to step inside my suite when Karan’s voice stops me.
“What about dinner? Let’s go together.” I glance at my wristwatch. It’s still early, and exhaustion weighs heavily after the journey.
“I’ll order room service. I really need to rest,” I say, letting my fatigue show. He nods quietly and disappears into his suite, while I notice Reyansh still standing there, staring.
“Do I need to tell you separately? Just get lost,” I mutter, shoving his chest in irritation before unlocking my door and slipping inside.
The suite leaves me momentarily speechless, expansive, designed less for comfort and more for command.
Floor-to-ceiling glass windows dominate the living space, offering uninterrupted views of Marina Bay, water, lights, and constant movement.
At night, the city feels like it’s breathing right outside.
Plush sofas, minimalist art, and a work desk positioned deliberately to face the view, as if success itself is meant to be contemplated here.
The bedroom flows seamlessly from the living area.
A king-sized bed dressed in crisp white linen, warm lighting that never feels harsh, curtains gliding open at the touch of a button, luxury that doesn’t demand attention, but earns it.
The bathroom is all marble and glass, complete with a deep soaking tub overlooking the city, privacy ensured, indulgence unquestioned.
I already love this place.
I shrug off the bomber leather jacket Reyansh had given me on the flight when the cold became unbearable. I bring it to my chest, inhaling his scent, lingering in his warmth one last time for the day before folding it neatly and placing it in the wardrobe.
Though my body aches with exhaustion, I opt for a hot shower and comfortable clothes.
I rummage through my suitcase for essentials and head straight into the bathroom.
By the time I return from the bedroom, I’m ready to collapse onto the bed for a long, deep sleep, but a knock on the door interrupts me.
I frown, confused. I haven’t ordered room service yet.
Dragging my feet, I walk to the door and open it to find Reyansh standing on the doorstep, freshly bathed, dressed in a black shirt and black track pants. How does someone look this irresistible without even trying…
“Don’t you invite me inside?”
“Didn’t I tell you I’m too tired to step outside?”
“Did I say I’m here to take you out? Now move aside.” He squeezes past me into the suite, eyes roaming around as he takes in the space.
“Gosh, Rey. Why are you even here?”
“Because I know you’re probably calling it a day and skipping dinner for sleep. Let’s order room service and eat together.” He knows me too well, and that realization feels unexpectedly warm.
“But I’m really too tired to even force food down my throat.” I slump onto the fluffy bed as he settles beside me.
“Then let me feed you.” He lifts his eyebrows playfully, and I find myself momentarily lost in his intoxicating gaze.
“No need. Let’s order first.” Within minutes, we dial the intercom connected to the restaurant, ask about local dishes, and place an order. The food arrives surprisingly fast.
“Come on, grab this pizza slice, or should I feed you?” He holds it out with a teasing glint in his eyes. I snatch it instantly, shaking my head in protest. He laughs softly before taking a bite of his own.
Suddenly, a memory surfaces: Aditi ignoring me that morning while I was leaving for the Delhi airport. The quiet unhappiness on her face, as if she sensed something was wrong. But why didn’t she even wish me luck for the international trip? Why did she walk past me so silently?
“Is everything alright between you and Aditi?” Reyansh chokes abruptly, coughing as I rub his back and hand him a bottle of water. After a few sips, he steadies himself.
“You didn’t answer my question,” I say gently. He looks at me with visible nervousness, the kind that suggests something isn’t right.
“Rey?”
“We’re doing well. I spoke to her before coming here.” He avoids my eyes, and he only does that when he’s lying. Is something wrong between them? Should I call Aditi? No. That would feel like invading their space. I decided to let it go.
“Alright.” I change my expression, not wanting him to think I’m prying into his relationship.
“Since we’re done with dinner, are you leaving now?” I ask plainly. A wave of disappointment flickers across his face.
“Why are you so obsessed with pushing me away when I’m literally dying to spend time with you?” The sincerity in his deep tone silences the room. I take a moment, absorbing the weight behind his words.
“Because I’m scared,” I admit quietly. “If I get comfortable with your presence, I might start craving it more, and that’s something I can’t afford.”
Our eyes lock, neither of us able to look away. Then realization hits me like a bullet, embarrassment flooding my senses. How could I let my true feelings slip out so easily?
“What?” he whispers, confusion laced with something else, hope, maybe.
“I mean—” I rush to correct myself, “getting too comfortable might distract us from the international work tomorrow, which we can’t afford.” My words tumble out as his expression falls, colour draining from his face.
“Oh. I see.” He forces a small nod. “It sounded… different. Anyway, I should leave and revise tomorrow’s schedule. Good night, Ames.” He turns abruptly, already halfway to the door.
I let him go. Maybe this is for the best. When there’s no emotions, there would be no distractions.
*****
We step into the prestigious waterfront conference hall at Marina Bay. Glass walls rise from polished stone, opening the interiors to the skyline beyond, Singapore standing tall, efficient, unmistakably global. From the moment attendees enter, the space feels curated rather than crowded.
No banners screaming for attention. No aggressive branding. Only refinement.
Soft instrumental music hums beneath conversations spoken in multiple accents. The air carries a subtle blend of bergamot and white cedar, grounding, deliberate. This is where global brands come to be noticed without asking to be seen.
The conference floor fills steadily with executives from boutique hotel chains seeking differentiated wellness partnerships, international spa directors evaluating future-forward luxury experiences, corporate wellness consultants focused on sustainable, science-backed offerings, and global lifestyle and hospitality media observing quietly, notebooks rarely visible.
People move with purpose. Introductions are brief. Curiosity is selective
This isn’t a space where anyone sells. This is where credibility is assessed.
Coming to B they pause, allowing B-Live Aura to work its magic.
Our booth quickly garners attention, sparking invite-only discussions in nearby lounges. Panel sessions delve into future wellness trends, luxury personalization, and sleep science. The media observes reactions discreetly, making B-Live Aura a key point of interest.