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"Yes..." Noah whispered. He stood before her, shoulders hunched, looking every bit like an obedient child waiting for a sentence from his favorite person.
"Why didn't you tell me he called?" Yunah's voice was a low, steady hum of authority. "And why did you take it upon yourself to block him without saying a word to me?" Her tone sharpened with every syllable, cutting through the silence of the apartment.
"Because I didn't want you to get angry, or feel hurt for your friend Meena," Noah said, his voice thick with a carefully crafted guilt. "At first, I really did want to tell you..." He let the lie hang in the air, smooth and seamless. "But you looked so peaceful at the camp. I couldn't bring myself to ruin that moment for you." He bowed his head, his eyes downcast. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for making you angry, Di."
Yunah let out a long, weary sigh. The coldness in her eyes thawed slightly as she looked at his dejected posture. "I'm not mad because you picked up or blocked him, Noah," she said, her voice softening. "I'm mad because you kept me in the dark."
"I know. I acted on my own, and it was wrong," Noah pleaded, his voice bordering on a beg. "Please, don't be mad at me. I won't do it again. I'll tell you everything from now on, I swear."
Yunah folded her arms, leaning back into the cushions. "You should have told me. Because I didn't know, that guy had the nerve to show up at the apartment today and al—"
"He was here?"
The words hit the room like a lightning strike. In a heartbeat, the "obedient child" vanished. Noah's entire posture shifted; his spine straightened, his jaw locked, and a dark, possessive intensity flooded his expression.
"I should have known," he murmured under his breath, his hand moving to rub his temple as a dangerous shadow crossed his face. Yunah couldn't quite catch the words, but the vibration of his voice made the hair on her arms stand up.
Noah stepped closer, his eyes frantically scanning her face, her arms, and her bandaged foot for any sign of a struggle. "Did he touch you? Did he hurt you, Di?"
Yunah blinked, completely caught off guard. Just a second ago, she was the one in control, the one delivering the scolding. Now, the atmosphere had flipped. Noah looked ready to burn the city down, and she was the one left staring at him in surprise.
"I'm supposed to be the one who's angry here," she said, her voice trailing off as she watched his frown deepen. "Why are you looking at me like you're the one who's been wronged?"
"Because that's exactly how I feel," Noah said, his gaze locked onto hers. The raw intensity in his eyes began to soften as he noticed Yunah's startled expression. He took a slow breath, forcing the 'Shadowveil' fury back into the depths of his mind. "I wasn't here. He forced his way into this apartment while you were hurt and alone, and I wasn't here to stand between you."
He sounded hollow, the worry in his voice so thick it felt heavy. "I didn't mean to scare you with my reaction, Di. But I care for you—genuinely. Just like you care for me. I can't stand the thought of anyone touching a hair on your head... especially when you aren't in a position to defend yourself."
Every word felt like a confession. The concern sparkling in his eyes was so bright, so desperate, that it was almost hard for Yunah to look at him.
Yunah let out a long, defeated sigh. Her anger had completely evaporated, replaced by a strange, fluttering warmth she couldn't quite name. "Stop reacting like that. I'm fine," she said, her voice dropping into a gentle, calm rhythm. "I was supposed to be the one lecturing you, but looking at your face right now... I can't even stay mad."
Noah didn't just stand there. He sank down, squatting on the floor in front of her so he was looking up at her like a devotee. "Di," he whispered, his hands resting near the edge of the couch. "If he comes looking for you again, promise me you'll tell me. Immediately."
Yunah looked down at him, her heart skipping a beat. From this angle, he looked devastatingly sincere—his big, hazel eyes fixed on her with a "puppy-dog" vulnerability that made her cheeks flush.
"What is wrong with you?" she teased, trying to hide her embarrassment. "I can handle a guy like Gaurav by my—"
"I know you can," he interrupted, his voice soft but firm. He tilted his head slightly, leaning into the act. "But I want to handle it for you. I might be younger, but I'm a black belt in Taekwondo, remember? Let me be your shield."
Yunah couldn't help it; she let out a genuine chuckle. "Wow. You really are persistent, aren't you?" She shook her head, a soft smile finally breaking through. "Fine. If he shows up, I'll tell you."
She agreed just to soothe the look in his eyes, but deep down, she had no intention of dragging him into her mess. She didn't realize that for Noah, there was no "mess"—only a target that needed to be erased.
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A few hours later, after a quiet dinner, the apartment fell into a restless peace. Yogesh and Yunah retreated to their rooms, the lights dimming as the night deepened. Noah waited. Once he was certain the hallway was silent, he slipped out of his room and moved toward the exit, his footsteps ghost-quiet.
He walked straight toward the building's central security hub. The moment he stepped through the door, the atmosphere in the room curdled. His authoritative aura preceded him like a physical weight; the guards, usually relaxed during the night shift, were already standing at attention, their eyes wide with a primal sort of dread.
Noah ignored their trembling. He crossed the room and sat in the central chair, leaning back like a monarch about to deliver a death sentence. He let his gaze rake over them—cold, sharp, and predatory—before he finally spoke.
"Who was on duty at the entrance pass today?"
The question was low, but it vibrated with a dangerous frequency. A young man, barely in his early twenties, stepped forward. He was new, and while he could feel the suffocating tension in the room, he hadn't yet learned why the veterans were staring at the floor in terror.
"I... I was the one, sir," the guard said, trying to keep his voice steady.
The screech of the chair against the tile floor sounded like a gunshot as Noah jolted upright. Before the guard could even blink, Noah had him by the collar, slamming him back.
"You," Noah hissed, his eyes turning into twin shards of obsidian. "Did I not give a direct order? No one approaches my apartment without my explicit permission. No. One."
The young guard froze, paralyzed by the sheer lethality in Noah's stare. He began to recover, his hands twitching as if to fight back, but the head of security—a grizzled, middle-aged man—scrambled forward, his face pale with panic.
"Young Master! Please!" the older man cried, grabbing the young guard's arm to keep him still. "He's new! He didn't know the protocol yet. I'll personally ensure he is disciplined. Please, forgive him this once." He turned to the boy, hissing urgently, "Apologize! Now!"
The young guard's confusion was quickly swallowed by the realization that his life was hanging by a thread."I'm sorry... I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again."
Noah held the grip for a beat longer, his knuckles white, before he shoved the man away. He straightened his jacket, his gaze sweeping the room one last time.
"I'm letting this go tonight only because she remains unharmed," Noah said, his voice dropping into a terrifyingly calm whisper. "If she had received so much as a single scratch, I would have returned it tenfold to every man in this room. Consider this your only mercy. There won't be a second."
Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and walked out, the heavy door thudding shut behind him.
The entire room let out a collective, ragged breath. Two of the older guards actually collapsed into their chairs, wiping sweat from their brows. The newcomer looked at the head of security, his voice shaking. "Who... who was that, Uncle Ben?"
The older man looked at the door with a mixture of respect and horror. "That is Noah. The owner of this entire building... and the man who holds your life in his hands."