The entire 28th floor went silent.
Someone had seen it first. Mr. Rudra Malhotra walking in through the glass doors of Malhotra Enterprises… with what could only be described as a tiny smile.
Not the smirk of dominance.
Not the "you're-fired" curve of his lips.
A soft smile.
And that alone was enough to send a chill down everyone's spine.
"Why… why is he smiling?" whispered one of the analysts, clutching her file like a shield.
"I don't know," the intern hissed back. "Maybe he found another company to destroy?"
Even the head manager, Mr. Kapoor, peeked out of his office nervously like a meerkat sensing a storm.
But the storm never came.
Rudra simply walked past them, calm, quiet, his usual sharp presence replaced by something strangely… peaceful.
He sat down at his desk, opened his laptop, and started working with that same composed focus.
Except—every few minutes, his phone screen would light up.
And each time, that impossible, dangerous, never-before-seen smile appeared.
Meanwhile, Meera, his secretary, watched this scene with pure disbelief.
The last time Rudra smiled in the office, it was because a competitor went bankrupt.
Now he looked like he was… blushing?
He's blushing, she mouthed silently to the other assistants outside the glass office wall.
"Don't look!" someone hissed. "If he catches you staring, you'll be jobless before lunch!"
Inside, Rudra leaned back slightly in his chair, the phone still in his hand.
A text from Ayaan:
Did you have breakfast?
He typed back quickly, almost too quickly for someone with his reputation.
Yes. You?
A reply came instantly.
You sound like a concerned boyfriend
Rudra nearly dropped his phone. His ears turned red instantly, and he cleared his throat loudly, so loudly that the entire floor stiffened in panic. [A:- bro what...-_-]
No one dared move for the next five minutes.
At noon, his father called.
"Rudra, I saw the article about the Sam contract. Good work. Tell me how it happened—"
"It was a fair proposal," Rudra said shortly. "He revised the terms to equal profit shares. We signed."
There was a pause.
"Hmm. You've done well, son."
"Thank you… sir."
The word slipped out automatically, and the silence that followed said everything.
"Rudra…" his father started, but Rudra had already cut the call.
For a few seconds, the quiet in his office felt heavy again, until his phone buzzed.
Another message from him.
Don't skip lunch. Please?
The corners of Rudra's mouth twitched. He glanced at the clock 3:00 p.m.
At 3:01, he got up, walked to the corner of his office, and quietly opened his lunchbox.
Everyone on the floor froze again.
Meera blinked in disbelief.
"He's… he's eating? Voluntarily?"
Someone whispered, "Oh God, who made the lunch?!"
Rudra, however, didn't hear any of it.
He took one calm bite, his expression unreadable, except for the faintest trace of a smile only visible if you looked too long.