Aayanshs pov
After Rishabh left, the silence hit me harder than his words had.
The café suddenly felt too quiet. Too open. My mind kept replaying Ruhi’s shaken voice, the way her hands trembled when she showed me those messages. Whoever was behind this hadn’t just crossed a line they had deliberately chosen fear.
I didn’t waste time overthinking.
I called Vikrant.
He picked up on the second ring.
“Hello”
I didn’t let him finish.
“Is this some kind of sick prank, Vikrant?” I asked flatly. “Are you trying to mess with Ruhi?”
There was a pause on the other end. Then, genuinely confused, he said,
“What? Why would I do that?”
My grip tightened around the phone. “Because you’ve done things before. And now that Ruhi has rejected you now that she chose me you thought you’d pull some stupid move to scare her.”
His tone changed instantly. Sharp. Controlled.
“If I wanted Doll to be with me,” he said coldly, “I wouldn’t need tricks. I would’ve told her it was her father’s wish for her to marry me. You wouldn’t have even stood a chance.”
His words hit hard but before I could react, he continued, calmer now, serious.
“So stop talking nonsense and tell me why you’re asking this. Is something wrong? Is Doll okay?”
That single question told me everything.
I exhaled slowly and told him what had happened. The feeling of being watched. The messages. The fear in her voice. Every detail.
When I finished, there was silence again but this time, thoughtful.
“There’s nothing like that from her mother’s side,” Vikrant said finally. “I’ve been keeping an eye on her family. She’s not making a move.”
My jaw clenched. “Then someone else is helping her,” I said. It wasn’t a question.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I’ll check. I’ll watch closely.”
We ended the call, but the unease didn’t leave.
If anything, it grew heavier.
Because this didn’t feel random, It felt planned.
I stood there for a moment, staring at nothing, listening to my instincts scream. The office issues. The anonymous email. Ruhi being watched.
Threads. Separate on the surface but something told me they were slowly being tied together.
And whoever was doing it was patient.
I got into my car and drove straight back to the office.
This wasn’t just about business anymore.
If someone thought they could hurt Ruhi by coming through my life through my work through my name.
They had made a very serious mistake and I intended to find out exactly who it was.
Author’s POV
The trap didn’t close all at once.
It never does.
It tightens gradually thread by thread until movement itself becomes dangerous.
By morning, the anonymous email had done exactly what it was meant to do.
At Singhania Group, whispers traveled faster than facts.
A paused conversation when Aayansh walked past.
A glance held a second too long.
A senior manager suddenly “double checking” approvals that had never been questioned before.
Nothing open, nothing confrontational.
Just doubt soft, invisible, and spreading.
Aayansh noticed.of course he did.
But he mistook it for routine corporate politics.The kind he had dealt with his entire career.
What he didn’t notice was how precisely timed it all was.
In another part of the city, Ruhi sat in her room staring at her phone.
No new messages.
That scared her more than the ones she’d received last night.
She kept replaying the words in her head.
Did you always walk this fast… or only when you feel watched? She hugged her knees closer, trying to steady her breathing.
It felt irrational. Paranoid.and yet… the feeling hadn’t left.
Her phone buzzed,she flinched.
Rishabh.
“You okay?” he asked gently when she answered.
“Yes,” she lied. “I’m fine.”
After the call ended, she didn’t notice the missed notification buried beneath it.
From Unknown
At Singhania Office
Back at the office, Aayansh stood in the conference room, arms crossed, as the internal audit team presented preliminary findings.
“Nothing conclusive,” the auditor said carefully. “But enough inconsistencies that we’ll need a deeper review.”
Aayansh nodded calmly. “Do it.”
Outwardly composed. Inwardly alert.
Someone wanted him distracted,that much was clear now.
His phone buzzed again.
This time, a notification from his assistant.
Meeting Scheduled: Board meeting
His jaw tightened.
Too fast.Too aggressive.Someone was pushing.
Across the city, in a quiet apartment with the curtains drawn, the Unknown watched a screen filled with live data.
Office logs.
Call records.
Movement patterns.
He smiled not wide, not cruel,Satisfied.
“They’re adjusting,” he murmured. “Good.”
His phone lit up.
Her Mother:
You’re accelerating things.
He didn’t look away from the screen as he typed.
They’re still calm.
That’s when people are easiest to bend.
Another message followed.
Her Mother:
Don’t let him suspect you.
A pause.
Then his reply appeared slowly.
He won’t.
He thinks this is business.
And Ruhi thinks this is fear.
Neither of them understands yet this is separation.
That evening, Aayansh reached Ruhi’s place later than promised.
She noticed immediately.
“You’re quiet,” she said as they sat together, her fingers laced with his.
“Just a long day,” he replied, forcing a smile.
She nodded but her chest tightened because she’d felt this before.
That moment when someone you love starts carrying weight they don’t share.
She leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder.
He wrapped an arm around her instinctively, holding her close.
Across the street, unseen from the dark interior of a parked car, someone watched.
Not with jealousy.
With calculation.
“She clings when she’s afraid,” he noted softly. “Good.”
Pressure works best when people believe they’re still choosing.
Later that night, Aayansh received another email.
From a known address this time.
A supplier.
Subject: Concern Regarding Payment Authorization
His signature.
Again.
He stared at the screen, irritation finally giving way to something colder.
This wasn't a coincidence,This was choreography.
And somewhere, far too close to his life, someone was counting his steps.
The trap tightened.
Not with force. Not with violence.
But with silence, with doubt, with perfectly placed distractions.
And while Aayansh tried to protect Ruhi from the shadows
The shadows were already learning how to take him apart without ever touching her.
The boardroom was silent,too silent for a company that moved in crores and contracts.
Aayansh stood at the head of the table, eyes fixed on the projection screen as numbers glowed back at him, familiar figures, familiar reports, all arranged the way they always were.
Except this time, something was wrong.
“These approvals,” the senior auditor said carefully, adjusting his glasses, “they carry your authorization code.”
Aayansh didn’t react immediately.
“That’s not possible,” he said calmly. “I didn’t sign off on those.”
The auditor hesitated. “Sir… the system says otherwise.”
A faint shift passed through the room. Not accusation. Not yet.
Doubt.
Aayansh leaned forward, palms pressed against the table. He scanned the documents again timestamps, internal routing, digital signatures.
Perfect,too perfect.
Someone had mirrored his access. Copied his patterns. Even the timing matched his usual work hours.
“This audit was triggered anonymously,” another board member added. “The source was… persistent.”
Aayansh straightened slowly.
Anonymous,of course.
“Pause the audit,” he said evenly. “I want a full internal trace. Every access point. Every login.”
A murmur of agreement followed, but the air had already changed.
Trust, once shaken, never returned quietly.
As the meeting adjourned, Aayansh remained behind, staring at the empty chairs.
He’d built this company on transparency. On control.
And yet someone had slipped past every safeguard without touching a single alarm.
Across the city, in a dimly lit room, a screen refreshed.
A file opened.
Singhaniya Group — Internal Review Initiated.
A man watched, fingers steepled, expression unreadable.
“Good,” he murmured.
He hadn’t falsified the numbers,he’d rearranged them.
Truth was far more dangerous when placed in the wrong order.
Back in his cabin, Aayansh loosened his tie, a strange unease settling into his chest.
This wasn’t a direct attack.
It was worse,It was patience.
And somewhere between spreadsheets and silence, the first real crack had formed
not in the company’s accounts,
but in the certainty that Aayansh Singhaniya was untouchable.
The trap hadn’t snapped shut.
Not yet,But the walls were moving closer.
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