(Kabir Mehra's POV)
The office lights reflected off the polished floor like calculated constellations, each one precise, predictable. Kabir moved among them, methodical, untouchable — until Veer Malhotra appeared at the doorway, leaning casually, that effortless charm acting like a wedge in the room's rigid symmetry.
"Good morning, Kabir," Veer said, voice smooth, practiced. "Busy as always."
Kabir didn't look up from his screen. "Observing patterns."
Veer stepped closer, glancing at the spreadsheet, then back at him. "Patterns are helpful. But sometimes, they blind you to the currents beneath."
The words landed soft but deliberate — like a subtle nudge that could tilt an entire equation. Kabir's fingers hovered over the keyboard, a micro-adjustment of tension in his body betraying nothing.
"You mean Anaya?" he asked.
Veer's smile was faint, unreadable. "Partly. But it's bigger than her. Currents are rarely about one variable. They move through the entire system."
Kabir considered him carefully. Veer Malhotra had a way of speaking that was casual, almost friendly, yet each syllable carried intent, strategy, and manipulation layered like a code Kabir had yet to fully decode.
"Explain," Kabir said, finally.
Veer leaned on the edge of the table, eyes deliberate. "Aryan Mehra has disrupted the system. You know it. Anaya knows it. And now… I'm here to see how you respond when a controlled variable meets chaos."
Kabir's response was a blink too fast to notice. "And you?"
"I?" Veer's grin widened subtly. "I just observe… and sometimes, I guide."
The room held a tension so precise it could slice glass. Kabir's gaze tracked Veer's, parsing micro-expressions, subtle shifts, testing intent. Veer smiled again, warm and easy — deliberately disarming.
"You're playing a long game," Kabir said. "As usual."
"Someone has to," Veer replied, eyes sparkling with quiet mischief. "Especially when others… overestimate the predictability of people."
Kabir's mind ticked in silent calculations. Veer wasn't just interference; he was a variable designed to destabilize yet steer, a catalyst wrapped in charm.
"Keep your distance," Kabir said finally, voice calm, measured. "I don't need help I didn't ask for."
Veer's smile softened, almost conspiratorial. "I know. But sometimes the system doesn't ask permission."
Veer left as quietly as he came, leaving the faintest ripple in the otherwise still air. Kabir exhaled subtly, the tension in his shoulders finally loosening — a fraction.
He glanced at the reflection on the screen: Anaya, still at her desk, unaware of the undercurrent sweeping around her. Aryan Mehra's warning, Veer's manipulation — all intersecting with her in ways he couldn't yet calculate fully.
And for the first time in weeks, Kabir felt the faint edge of uncertainty — controlled, yes, but undeniable.
The system was changing. And he would have to adapt.