The office was buzzing as usual. Phones ringing, keyboards clacking, assistants shuffling papers—everything running like a well-oiled machine under Rudra Malhotra's gaze.
Yet, Rudra's own phone buzzed quietly on the corner of his desk. He glanced at it. Ayaan.
He hesitated for a second before picking up, leaning back in his chair. The office continued, oblivious.
"Hello?" he said, his voice low, controlled.
On the other end, Ayaan's voice came softly, almost a whisper. "Cute…"
Rudra froze.
Did he just…
"W-what?" he managed, the faintest heat creeping into his chest.
"…I-I said…uh…" Ayaan's voice trailed off, cheeks heating so much Rudra could almost see it through the line. "I—sorry… bye…"
Rudra's lips twitched. He didn't respond immediately, but the way his jaw tensed betrayed him.
Then, so quietly, barely audible even over the phone, Ayaan whispered, "Love you."
The words landed in Rudra's mind like a spark in dry tinder.
Rudra's hand froze on the phone. He blinked, dark eyes wide. His chest tightened. Did he really just—?
"—what did he just say?" Rudra muttered under his breath, a growl almost caught in the back of his throat.
The phone was already ending the call.
Rudra set it down slowly, mind spinning. A warmth spread through him, unnatural and dangerous in its own way. He straightened his posture, forced a calm mask back on, but the heat in his chest didn't fade.
Meanwhile, somewhere on the other end, Ayaan sat in the quiet of his café, face bright red, heart hammering, convinced he had just ruined everything with that accidental "cute" and the whispered truth.
Rudra exhaled quietly, fingers tightening on the desk. No one could know. He alone would carry the weight of that whisper for the day.
And somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized something terrifying: he didn't want to hang up on him ever again.
Meanwhile, if any of his staff had seen even a fraction of this…
Thirty floors of Malhotra Enterprises would have collectively combusted.