The office buzzed with routine activity. Rudra sat at his desk, dark eyes scanning reports, fingers tapping rhythmically on the table.
A knock at the door interrupted him.
"Sir, a delivery has arrived for you," Meera said cautiously, holding a small brown bag.
Rudra frowned. He didn't usually receive deliveries. Shops, restaurants — he refused them all. Only something essential would come to him. Usually from family… or rarely, a business contact.
He took the bag, eyes narrowing. Family, perhaps?
The office staff hovered at a safe distance, curious but wary. Rudra opened the bag. Inside were two soft cupcakes, perfectly wrapped, and a cup of coffee, the aroma gentle and rich.
His eyes flicked to the tag. And there it was: Ayaan's café.
A faint crease appeared between Rudra's brows — a mixture of surprise, annoyance, and something softer he didn't want anyone to notice.
He pulled out a small note tucked neatly beside the coffee. In familiar, careful handwriting, it read:
"Eat well and don't stress too much. Fighting! 🤘"
Rudra's fingers lingered on the note, dark eyes scanning the words twice, three times. The playful tone, the care behind it, the insistence on him taking a moment for himself — it all caught him off guard.
For a brief second, he almost smirked. Not the smirk of a CEO conquering empires. Not the cold, unreadable expression everyone at the office knew. This was something else entirely — quiet, private, warm.
He sipped the coffee slowly, savoring the taste, the warmth, the thought behind it. The cupcakes waited patiently beside him, innocent and soft, much like the boy who had sent them.
No one at the office dared to comment. They couldn't read the subtle shift in their untouchable CEO. And that was exactly how Rudra wanted it.
Because this — small, personal, tender — was just for him.
He set the note beside the cup, dark eyes lingering on it for a moment longer. Then, in a rare, quiet acknowledgment of the gesture, he whispered to himself:
"Fighting… indeed."