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Chapter 1
Aryan Malhotra reached for the next file and stopped.
A sharp pain flared through his shoulder, forcing him to pause. His jaw tightened as he adjusted the bandage beneath his shirt. Only after the ache subsided did he turn the page.
A knock interrupted the silence.
"Come in."
The door opened, and Ishita Kapoor walked in. She dropped her bag onto the couch before settling into the chair opposite him.
"So... you came to the office."
Aryan didn't look up.
"I don't remember asking for permission."
A faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
"You wouldn't."
Before opening her laptop, her eyes fell on the untouched lunchbox resting on his desk. She slid it toward him.
"Lunch."
"I'm working."
"You can do both."
For a brief moment, Aryan held her gaze. Then, without another word, he opened the lunchbox and took a bite.
Satisfied, Ishita turned to her laptop.
The cabin settled into its familiar rhythm. Files changed hands, emails were answered, and silence settled comfortably between them. It was a silence neither of them ever felt compelled to break.
After a while, Aryan turned another page.
"Any update?"
"The police still haven't found the shooter. They're questioning everyone from the dance studio."
He acknowledged it with a faint nod.
"They'll find him."
"I hope so."
Another knock echoed through the cabin.
Karan Mehra stepped inside carrying a folder.
"The site visit for tomorrow has been confirmed, sir."
Aryan accepted the file.
"The dance studio?"
"Yes, sir."
Ishita finally looked up.
"You're still going?"
Aryan nodded.
"The doctor asked you to rest."
"It'll be a short visit."
"You were shot three days ago."
This time, he met her eyes.
"I'll be careful."
For a long moment, Ishita simply looked at him.
She had argued this before.
She already knew how it would end.
Without another word, she looked away.
Aryan signed the papers and handed the folder back.
"Eleven o'clock."
"Yes, sir."
Karan turned to leave but paused at the door.
"Ma'am... one more thing."
Ishita looked up.
"The interview for the CSR Executive position is this afternoon."
She gave a small nod.
Karan hesitated.
"Can I confirm the timing with... Aditi, as per your schedule?"
The name caught her off guard.
"...Aditi?"
Almost instinctively, her eyes shifted toward Aryan.
He simply turned another page.
Karan looked between them, clearly confused.
"Yes, ma'am."
Silence stretched across the cabin.
Then Ishita spoke.
"Cancel the interview."
Karan frowned.
"Ma'am?"
"The position is closed."
"But everything has already been scheduled."
"Then look for someone else."
Her voice remained calm, leaving no room for discussion.
"Yes, ma'am."
He nodded once before quietly leaving the cabin.
The silence returned.
"I'm sorry," Ishita said softly.
Aryan didn't look up.
"It doesn't matter."
Another page turned beneath his hand.
"I trust your judgment."
She watched him for a quiet moment before closing her laptop.
"I have a meeting."
Aryan acknowledged her with a slight nod.
As she reached the door, she paused.
"Finish your lunch."
"I will."
The doubtful look she gave him suggested she wasn't convinced.
The door clicked shut.
Aryan let out a quiet breath before reaching for the next file.
---
Karan stepped out of the office building, his phone already in his hand.
The call connected almost immediately.
"Hi!"
Aditi's cheerful voice greeted him.
Karan didn't answer.
The silence on the other end was enough to make her smile fade.
"What happened?"
"The interview's been cancelled."
A brief pause followed.
"They've closed the position."
"Oh..."
"I'm sorry."
Aditi drew a slow breath.
"It's okay."
Karan waited, knowing she was trying to convince herself as much as him.
"No, really," she said with a faint laugh that never reached her voice. "These things happen."
The disappointment lingered despite her attempt to hide it.
"I'll keep looking."
"You will."
Silence settled between them.
"I'll call you later."
Before she could respond, he ended the call.
A sharp pain shot through his shoulder.
Ignoring it, he slipped the phone back into his pocket and continued walking.
---
Aditi lowered her phone slowly.
For a moment, she simply stared at the blank screen before slipping it into her bag.
The receptionist looked up with a polite smile.
"Ma'am, please have a seat. Someone will be with you shortly."
Aditi acknowledged her with a nod.
Her neatly arranged documents rested inside the folder on her lap.
She had left home early that morning.
The thought brought a faint smile to her lips.
It was supposed to be a good day.
2