(Kabir Mehra's POV / Anaya interludes)
The morning air carried a crisp edge, as if the city itself were holding its breath. Kabir Mehra entered the office with the usual precision — tailored suit, perfectly aligned files, and a mind already running several moves ahead.
He barely registered the coffee in his hand before his assistant's voice broke through.
"Anaya Kapoor is on line one. She wants to see you immediately."
Kabir raised an eyebrow, already calculating. Immediate requests from Anaya were rare, and always purposeful.
"Patch her through."
Her voice was tight, careful, betraying the tension she usually masked. "Kabir… it's Aryan. He's interfering with the client rollout. He's — he's sending directives behind the scenes. He's… he's trying to make me override your decisions."
Kabir's hand tightened around the receiver. His mind ran through every contingency, every data set, every possible outcome. Aryan Mehra's interference was no longer subtle — it was strategic chaos, designed to destabilize the system he had spent months constructing.
"Where exactly?" he asked.
"Through the client portal… emails, shared docs, even direct calls to our junior leads. If I don't intercept, it could look like we're mismanaging the rollout. He's cornering me into… into compliance."
Kabir's jaw stiffened. He understood the mechanics of control, the predictability of numbers — but this was human calculus. And Aryan's manipulations didn't obey equations.
"I'll handle it," Kabir said calmly, but the words carried weight, authority, and a subtle warning.
By the time he reached the client floor, Anaya was already mid-discussion with a junior lead, her voice controlled but strained. Kabir stepped in silently, positioning himself beside her.
"Ms. Kapoor, any directives you receive from external sources regarding this project must come through me first," he said, tone smooth, precise, but non-negotiable.
Anaya felt a ripple of relief at his presence. Not emotional comfort — but tactical protection.
The junior lead, sensing authority, nodded quickly. Aryan's emails, messages, and covert instructions were neutralized by Kabir's intervention. And in that moment, Anaya realized something: Kabir wasn't just calculating outcomes — he was shielding her, even if she had been forced into a high-stakes corner.
Later, as they walked toward the elevator, Veer appeared, leaning casually against the wall. His smile was easy, but sharp. "Looks like someone's taking command."
Kabir didn't glance at him. "We adapt. That's all."
Veer chuckled softly. "Adaptation is fun when it's your choice. Less fun when you're forced into it."
Anaya watched the exchange quietly. Two forces — one protective, one manipulative — circling her. And in the middle of it all, she had to act. Not blindly, not instinctively, but with precision.
Aryan's shadow loomed larger than ever. But for the first time, Anaya felt the faint thrill of having an ally capable of countering it — someone who didn't just respond to chaos, but anticipated it.
Kabir's gaze met hers for a fraction of a second in the elevator reflection. It was not tenderness. It was not affection. It was something else — calculation made tangible, a promise she could feel brushing against the tension in the air.
The slow burn had shifted. The next move was no longer just about numbers or strategy. It was about trust. And about survival.