Two weeks passed since Zara began working as Ayaan’s PA, and life had taken on a rhythm that revolved entirely around him. Every morning she arrived early, perfectly dressed, her heart racing the moment the elevator doors opened to reveal him. And though his eyes barely lingered on her beyond a curt nod, that single acknowledgment felt like a silent victory.
She had learned to survive his impossible deadlines, reports that needed to be done before dusk, presentations that had to be flawless, and meeting minutes that were expected the very same day. Many nights, she stayed up long after reaching home, eyes heavy but fingers still typing away on her laptop. Her phone would buzz with a message from him, short, crisp instructions and without a complaint, she would obey.
Despite the exhaustion that clawed at her, Zara found herself oddly content. It wasn’t just about proving her worth, it was the quiet satisfaction of being near him, watching him work with that cold precision and quiet authority that both intimidated and fascinated her.
She would often steal glances at him when he wasn’t looking, the way his jaw flexed when he concentrated, how his fingers tapped rhythmically against the desk, or the rare moments when a faint smirk curved his lips during meetings.
Every afternoon, she made sure his lunch was served perfectly. Sometimes she waited until he finished, pretending to check emails while secretly admiring his calm composure.
She smiled at him every morning, knowing he wouldn’t return it, only that faint nod of acknowledgment, yet, to her, it was enough. Because in those brief exchanges, she found a strange warmth in his cold world, one she couldn’t help but crave a little more each day.
Zara stumbled into her apartment, her legs barely obeying her as the door clicked shut behind her. The silence of the room wrapped around her like a heavy blanket. She dropped her handbag on the table and collapsed onto the couch, every muscle in her body aching from the relentless pace of the day. Her head throbbed faintly, she hadn’t eaten since morning.
She leaned back, closing her eyes for a moment, trying to gather the strength to move. With great effort, she dragged herself toward the kitchen, but the thought of cooking was unbearable. She sighed, picked up her phone, and ordered food, far more than she could finish, just to feel a little less hollow inside.
When she returned to the couch, she slipped off her blazer, her body sighing in relief. Her fingers went to the top buttons of her shirt, unfastening two of them to let the tightness ease. A delicate silver chain glimmered against her skin, the pendant catching the soft light from the lamp. She pulled it free and held it gently in her palm.
Her lips trembled into a wistful smile as her thumb brushed over the pendant.
” Do I get to see the care in your eyes again, Ayaan ? It’s been years, but I still can’t forget that night… the way you looked at me with so much of care and pain in your eyes like you felt my own.” she whispered under her breath and her voice cracked. Her eyes shimmered with tears that refused to fall. The weight of the memories pressed against her chest, each one sharper than the last.
“You don’t even know, do you? That you were the only person who ever showed me kindness. That you changed something inside me that night. I will always be grateful… and I love you, Ayaan, beyond what you could ever imagine. And I’m sorry, you lost your Zara because of me.” she thought with more tears rolling down her cheeks and she kissed the pendant softly, eyes closing against the flood of emotion.
After freshening up, Zara slipped into her soft nightdress , a loose, pale lilac one that brushed against her skin like a whisper. The faint scent of lavender from her body mist filled the air as she tied her damp hair into a messy bun and stepped out of the bedroom just as the doorbell rang.
The delivery boy handed her the bags, and she placed them carefully on the dining table. When she opened the boxes, the aroma of warm food filled the apartment, wrapping her in a comforting haze. She smiled softly to herself, though the exhaustion still lingered in her eyes.
As Zara began setting the table, she paused for a moment, staring at the two chairs. She had never done this before. Still, without thinking too hard, she placed a plate opposite hers and quietly served food onto it. Maybe it was the loneliness. Maybe it was her heart refusing to let go of hope. She sat down, resting her chin on her palm for a moment, staring at the empty chair across from her. Her lips curved into a faint smile.
“I know you wouldn’t be here, Ayaan and that would never happen but maybe living in this little delusional world where you sit across from me, having dinner with me… maybe that wouldn’t hurt so much.” she thought and her eyes glistened, but she forced a smile and picked up her spoon. She began eating slowly, occasionally glancing at the empty chair, as though expecting him to say something.
For a fleeting moment, the loneliness didn’t feel so heavy. In her mind, she imagined him sitting there, sleeves rolled up, that quiet intensity in his gaze, the faintest smirk playing on his lips. She smiled back at her own illusion.
And for the rest of the meal, she let herself believe he was there, not the ruthless boss who barely looked at her, but the man from years ago, whose eyes had once shown her a kind of care she never forgot.
In the Rey’s manor, Ayaan walked down the quiet corridor toward his room, the soft clink of his watch echoing in the stillness. Dinner had been warm, cheerful with his mother’s laughter, his father’s subtle pride, the familiar aroma of his favorite dishes. Yet none of it stayed with him. The moment he entered his room and closed the door, the mask of composure he wore for his family fell away like glass.
He loosened his tie, rolled his sleeves, and sat at his desk. His laptop waited for him, the one device that held the fragments of a life he refused to let go of. He opened it, his fingers hesitating for a second before pressing play on the latest recordings his security team had sent.
Nothing was new from the say the bugs were implanted and he started receiving recordings.
Static, then silence. He leaned back, eyes blank, until the faint sound of a sob made him freeze. It was soft, almost fragile, but unmistakable …… Zara was sobbing.
He clenched his jaw as the sound continued, followed by fading footsteps. Later the chime of a doorbell. Ayaan’s heart thudded once, sharply, but he muted the emotion as quickly as it came. He switched to another file, soft shuffling sounds filled as if she was opening some packages and the moment her voice filled the room, he went still.
“Ayaan…” she had whispered softly, her voice thick with longing, as if she were speaking to someone sitting across the table from her.
He pressed pause and exhaled sharply through his nose. His hand curled into a fist on the desk, veins straining under his skin.
“She’s gone mad,” he muttered, but his voice lacked conviction. He grit his teeth, his mind flashing back to the image his men had sent a week ago, the day they’d installed the bugs in her apartment. He’d almost destroyed his office that night when he saw the images shared by the CSO.
The image had his photo frame on Zara’s night stand and bedroom wall. That day he had shattered a glass table in fury, broken his phone in half.
Now, he opened the image once again and tried to close it immediately. His cursor hovered over the tab, but he stopped. His eyes stayed fixed on the photo and something inside him tightened.
Before he could close the photo, “I love you, Ayaan… beyond you could even imagine…” from the audio that was playing in the background froze him.
Ayaan slammed the laptop shut and leaned back in his chair, his hand covering his face. The room was silent, but his pulse roared in his ears.
Ayaan picked a whiskey bottle, he uncorked it, and poured a deep amber stream into a glass. The whiskey breathed for a moment, catching the lamplight, he inhaled as if seeking permission to let it steady him.
Zara’s voice, the one he’d heard from the recordings haunted the silence of his room, echoed in his head again- “I love you, Ayaan… beyond you could even imagine.” The words landed with a weight that did not soften with time. Instead they cleaved at something colder inside him.
He raised the glass, let the first burn settle behind his ribs, and tasted memory and fury in equal measure. For a second the drink blurred the edges of the room, then his features hardened until the shadow of a plan sharpened across his face.
” I can’t let her play anymore. “
The thought hit him sharply. He had allowed her into his life only to find out who was using her, it was a clean and careful plan. But instead, she had become a weak point and every time that weakness was exposed, his family’s safety was put at risk he thought. He didn’t want to allow that anymore.
“I won’t let her play this game any longer. I’ve kept her within my sight to flush out whoever’s using her but she left me no choice but to get my hands dirty. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect my family, even if it destroys me and if you stand in my way, I will make sure you burn with it. Prepare yourself…. tomorrow starts a new beginning.” he murmured to the empty room, the words both confession and promise.
He picked up the glass again, drained the rest in a single, controlled swallow, and replaced it on the coaster. The burn in his throat felt like preparation.
Ayaan stood moved towards the wall opposite to his bed, the lamp casting a pool of soft light over his girlfriend’s framed photograph on the wall. He reached out almost without thinking, his fingertips hovering over the glass as if the warmth could pass through.
“Zara…I love you, baby. You will always be my love.” he said, his voice was low and rough, the word breaking on him like a plea. He pressed his palm against the frame and closed his eyes.
Guilt and resolve warred in his face. He swallowed, the syllables tasting like ash. “Forgive me for what I’m about to do, I’m doing this to protect our family. I can’t wait. I can’t lose anyone.” he murmured, more to himself than to the picture.
For a long moment he simply stood there, forehead resting against the wall beside. The apology in his voice was real, but so was the conviction that left him merciless. He tucked a single, trembling word into the silence, “Forgive me.”
Then, with one last look at her smiling face, he straightened, squared his shoulders, and stepped away carrying both the ache of love and the weight of the war he intended to wage.
He slept in broken patches, never deeply, always half-awake. In the darkness, something warm and very close reached for him……. a voice, soft and full of pleading
““I love you, Ayaan… beyond you could even imagine.“
It was a fragment, the exact tremor he’d heard from the recordings and in the dream it came again, softer.
Then he snapped awake, heart slamming against his ribs. The room was too quiet, the lamp cast a pale wedge across the bed. For a beat he lay motionless, the aftertaste of the dream clinging like smoke.
“Damn it.” The word tore out of him, sharp and private. He cursed himself for hearing her in sleep. Anger flared next, hot and immediate, an animal force that pushed like a tide against the hollowness the dream had left behind.
His jaw locked, a slow, dangerous calm settled over him the sort that precedes decision.
Rage pooled at the base of his skull, cool and controlled. It steadied his hands, cleared the fog the dream had left behind. Where tenderness had tempted, fury would act. The swell of feeling was no longer a weakness, it would be the fuel for whatever came next.
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A/N:
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