Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
* Vihaan's Pov *
"What were you doing last night? You came home too late," my mother inquired, taking a seat on the couch by the wall.
"Nothing much, just had some work to attend to," I replied casually, pausing my pull-ups.
"You should learn a thing or two from your brother. You're both hardworking, but he knows the value of decency. He's always home before midnight, spends time with the family, and actually listens to me," she murmured softly.
I chuckled as I approached her, "Have you had breakfast yet?" I asked, accepting the sipper she offered.
"No, I was waiting for you," she replied.
"Let's have breakfast then," I suggested.
"What's that?" she inquired, eyeing the cloth wrapped around my hand.
"Just a minor injury, nothing serious," I assured her, knowing she wouldn't pry further.
After finishing breakfast, I headed upstairs for a shower, realizing I had forgotten about the cloth. "I really forgot about this," I muttered, removing it as the cold water cascaded over me.
Once ready, I descended the stairs, grabbing the keys to my car.
"When will you start wearing suits like your brother or father used to?" my mother called out.
"Well, suits suit your elder son better, and Dad still looks handsome in them. I don't know why he stopped wearing them," I remarked, placing a hand on her shoulder before kissing her cheek. "I'm running late now. May I?" I asked politely.
My mother is sweet; she never questions too much. She wants me to be more like my brother, a mama's boy. But that wasn't happening anytime soon.
Stepping out of the car in front of my building, I reflected on how my father built the business, and now it was my responsibility to take it forward. It should have been my brother, being the elder one, but he had no interest in the business.What a fool. Our opinions never match. Despite that, I love him, and he loves me. My father was never into violence, nor did he know about my involvement in it. I couldn't imagine how my family would react if they knew I had taken lives. They shouldn't know; it's better for everyone.
Entering the lift, I checked my phone, but just as it began to ascend, someone pressed the button to stop it. Folding my arms across my chest, I watched as a girl entered. None other than the clumsy one I had met last night, Alisha.
"What the..." she began, a childlike happiness evident on her face. "What are you doing here?" she asked.
"What are you doing here?" I countered.
"I work here," she replied, adjusting her handbag.
"Since when?" I probed.
"It's my first day here. Do you work here too?" she queried, rummaging through her bag.
The lift opened, and I stepped out without answering, but she followed quickly, clutching a lipstick in her hand.
"Hey, don't ignore me like that! You were ignoring my questions last night too, Vihaan," she exclaimed, drawing attention from those nearby.
I turned suddenly, and her head collided with my chest. As she pulled back, I fixed my gaze on her, speaking in a deep, commanding voice, "We can have this conversation later. It's your first day; you should be paying attention to your work, I guess."
Her collision with my chest had disheveled her hair. I smoothed a stray strand behind her ear before striding toward my office.
---
*Alisha's POV*
Sitting at my desk, I couldn't shake off the embarrassing encounter with Vihaan. A coworker approached me, asking out of the blue, "Are you his wife?"
"What?" I spluttered.
"Are you his wife?" he repeated.
"No, why?" I replied.
"Because nobody talks to him like you did," he remarked before departing.
"What do you mean?" I asked
What do I mean? Who talks to her boss like that? I answered and left
Realization dawned upon me; I had been yelling at my boss. Great, Alisha.
An hour later, a senior colleague informed me that Vihaan wanted to see me in his office.
Straightening my kurti, I knocked on his door and heard him grant entry.
I entered.
"Sit," he instructed, his fingers tapping impatiently on the desk. Without his jacket, his black t-shirt accentuated his form, he looks so fucking hot in that. but I have to remind myself he is my boss.
Lost in my thoughts, I failed to respond immediately. Vihaan's tapping grew louder until he demanded my attention. "I said, sit."
Clearing my throat, I complied, but my voice barely audible.
"What's with the sudden silence? You had questions, right?" he prompted, his finger grazing his lips while the other hand remained on the desk.
"N-no," I stammered.
"What, no?" he questioned, leaning forward.
"I'm sorry for my behavior, sir," I managed to say, hoping to end the uncomfortable situation.
"Sir? You know my name, don't you?" he remarked, a hint of challenge in his tone.
I sensed his attempt to unnerve me but lacked the courage to reciprocate. His intense gaze in the dimly lit room was unsettling.
With a deep inhale, he leaned back in his chair. "You can go," he dismissed me.
Hurriedly, I rose to leave, but just as I reached for the door, he spoke again, "You still haven't found your earring."
Touching my ear, I realized I was wearing only one earring. I had other pairs, but I just...
"Are you free after work?" he inquired calmly.
"Why? I mean, yes, I am," I responded, flustered.
"Good, you're coming with me," he declared before turning his attention back to his desk.
I nodded and left his office.
I grabbed a glass of water to calm my nerves. I could have declined, but my stupid ass agreed. Not that I didn't want to go with him, but I couldn't forget he had shot someone in front of me. Granted, it was to save my life, but why did my boss carry a gun? And why were his knuckles bleeding? He had given me a chance to ask questions, and I had failed to seize it. How could I? Uh fuck me.
