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Chapter 11 - Chapter 9 – A Light Touch

The café was empty, silent except for the faint hum of the espresso machine and the muted city sounds outside. Rudra had finished his sandwich, leaning slightly back in his chair, eyes distant as he replayed the day's events in his mind.

Ayaan, quiet and observant, reached across the small table. His fingers brushed against Rudra's hand — light, tentative, warm.

"It's too stressful?" Ayaan asked softly, his voice gentle, carrying the weight of quiet concern. "You look… more tired than usual."

Rudra froze ever so slightly at the touch, the unexpected warmth seeping through the edge of his composed exterior. He didn't pull away. He didn't react overtly. He simply lowered his gaze to meet Ayaan's, dark eyes measuring, unreadable.

"I manage," he said finally, voice low, even, controlled.

Ayaan's thumb brushed subtly over Rudra's knuckles, unaware of the intensity behind those words. "I know you always do," he said softly. "But… sometimes even the strongest need a break."

Rudra's chest tightened almost imperceptibly. Even the strongest. He had never thought of himself that way. Not to anyone. Not in the office, not in front of Sam Carter, not in front of his family. And yet… here, across from someone small and unassuming, he felt the pull of words that could pierce the ice around him.

Ayaan didn't know. He didn't know how the world outside this café feared Rudra, how he commanded obedience, how he didn't bend to anyone — nor did he know that the cold, composed man sitting across from him could crush empires with a glance. To Ayaan, this was just a man who looked tired. A man who needed care.

Rudra's fingers twitched ever so slightly under the gentle touch. He wanted to pull back, to remind himself of the control he always held. Yet something in the warmth — the softness, the innocence — held him in place.

The silence stretched, heavy but comforting. And for a moment, Rudra Malhotra, the man feared by billionaires and business titans alike, allowed himself to feel something quietly human.

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The café was hushed now, the last hum of the espresso machine fading into soft silence. Rudra's fingers had remained under Ayaan's gentle touch longer than he expected. He finally moved them — not to pull away, but to adjust slightly, as if testing the weight of a moment he rarely allowed himself to feel.

"You… really worry too much," Rudra said, voice low, almost teasing in its flatness, though there was a subtle warmth hidden behind it.

Ayaan's smile didn't falter. "I can't help it," he said softly. "I've seen you stressed today. You rarely let anyone see that side of you."

Rudra's dark eyes met Ayaan's, calm and controlled. "You see… more than you should."

Ayaan tilted his head, curious. "Is that… a problem?"

For the briefest second, Rudra's lips twitched, almost a ghost of a smile. "It shouldn't be," he murmured. The words were careful, but the soft tone betrayed a hint of something rare — trust, maybe, or acknowledgment that this small, cozy presence in his world had already breached the walls he had built around himself.

Ayaan's hand remained lightly touching his, unconsciously grounding him. "Then I won't stop," he said softly, almost a whisper.

Rudra allowed himself to linger in the warmth of that moment, a sensation he had never permitted in his structured, ruthless life. The man who bent billionaires to his will, who ran empires and instilled fear in everyone who crossed his path, now sat quietly in a small café corner, letting himself be… human.

The silence wasn't awkward. It wasn't tense. It was intimate, private, a world away from the steel and glass of his office. And for a rare moment, Rudra Malhotra didn't need to be feared. He didn't need to be in control.

All he needed was this — the soft, persistent care of someone who had no idea of the empire he commanded or the power he wielded.

He sipped his tea slowly, keeping his gaze on the cup, letting the warmth of the drink mingle with the warmth of the small, unseen hand beside his.

And somewhere, deep down, he admitted — quietly, silently — that it mattered more than he was willing to say.

To be continued.....

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