The next morning arrived far too quickly. Khushi stood outside the towering glass building with her handbag hanging from one shoulder and dread sitting heavily in her chest.

The same office. The same building. The same elevators. Yet somehow everything felt different. Because today she wasn't returning as Khushi Sharma from Finance.

Today she belonged on Arnav Raizada's floor. And that thought alone made her stomach tighten.

Taking a slow breath, she stepped inside.

Employees rushed around her as they always did.

Coffee cups. Morning meetings. Half-finished conversations. Normal.

Everything looked normal. Except nothing felt normal anymore.

As she walked past the junior workspace, her gaze drifted toward the corner cubicle she'd occupied for years.

A small desk. A tiny plant. A comfortable routine. Safe.

She almost smiled. Almost.

"That used to be my corner."

The thought lingered for a moment before voices pulled her back.

"...Why her?"

"...out of everyone?"

Khushi didn't turn. She didn't need to. The whispers followed her anyway.

People had questions. People always had questions. The sudden promotion. The executive floor. The billionaire CEO. The rumors were already spreading.

Khushi lifted her chin and kept walking. Let them wonder. None of them knew the truth. And hopefully none of them ever would.

The elevator doors slid open. She stepped inside. Alone.

The mirrored walls reflected a woman she barely recognized.

Tired eyes. Forced confidence. A woman carrying too many secrets.

The floor numbers climbed. Ten. Eleven. Twelve.

Past her old department. Past everything familiar. Toward him.

Khushi stared at her reflection. Then straightened her dupatta. Adjusted her shoulders. Built her armor.

"Don't let him see it hurt."

The elevator reached the executive floor. The doors opened. Silence greeted her.

No ringing phones. No crowded desks. No laughter. Just polished glass. Dark wood. Expensive furniture. The kind of quiet that only money could buy.

Khushi suddenly felt very small. Then she saw it. The desk. Her desk. Positioned directly outside Arnav's office. Not near his office. Not across the hall. Directly outside. Like a guard station. Or a prison cell. The realization hit instantly. This wasn't a promotion. It was surveillance.

"He didn't promote me."

"He put me on a leash."

Her throat tightened. Then she noticed the office door. And beyond the glass—

Arnav. Standing at the window. Hands behind his back. Watching the city. The king of his kingdom. The man who hated her. The man she'd never stopped loving.

Khushi closed her eyes briefly. Then knocked. No answer. She knocked again. Still nothing. Finally she opened the door and stepped inside.

"Good morning, Mr. Raizada."

Arnav didn't turn. Not immediately. The silence stretched.

Then—

"From today," he said coldly, "you're my personal secretary."

Khushi stood still. Arnav continued staring out the window.

"Just an employee."

The words were deliberate. Sharp. Designed to cut. And somehow that hurt more than shouting would have.

Khushi swallowed. She'd expected cruelty. She'd prepared for cruelty. Still... he always managed to find new ways to hurt her. Then he turned. Slowly. And for one dangerous second—everything stopped.

Their eyes met. The office disappeared. The city disappeared. Six years disappeared. There was only him. Only her. Only the memories standing between them.

Arnav's expression cracked. Barely. Just enough for her to see it.

Shock. Pain. Recognition. Then the mask returned. Cold. Controlled. Unforgiving. Khushi knew she imagined it.

But for that one second...it had looked like seeing her hurt him too.

His jaw tightened. His eyes hardened. And suddenly she understood.

Making her his secretary wasn't about business. It was punishment.

He wanted her close enough to suffer. Close enough to watch. Close enough to remember.

"You destroyed me."

His eyes practically screamed the words.

"Now it's your turn."

Khushi lowered her gaze. Because if Arnav hated her... then maybe he'd never dig deeper. Maybe he'd never discover the truth. Maybe he'd never discover Aarav. And that secret mattered more than her pride.

More than her feelings. More than everything. Arnav sat behind the massive executive desk. Pulled a folder toward him.

Then slid it across the polished surface.

"My schedule is on your desk."

His voice was ice.

"Get it done."

A pause. Then the knife.

"If you can manage that much, perhaps your salary won't feel like a waste."

Khushi stared at him. The old Khushi would've cried. The new Khushi was tired of crying.

She lifted her chin.

"Then it's a good thing my work is measured by results."

Arnav's eyes narrowed.

"...not by your mood."

Silence. Dangerous silence. For the first time that morning, something flickered in his gaze.

Interest. Challenge. Then it vanished.

"Careful, Khushi."

Her name. Not Ms. Sharma. Not Secretary.

Khushi. The familiar sound hit harder than it should have.

"You are in no position to challenge the person who signs your paycheck."

The words should have intimidated her. Instead they irritated her. Khushi picked up the folder. Calmly. Steadily. Then gave him a small professional nod.

"And yet here you are."

She turned toward the door.

"Arguing with an employee instead of your equals, sir."

The last word landed perfectly. A tiny blade wrapped in professionalism.

Khushi walked out before he could answer. The moment the door shut behind her—her composure cracked.

She leaned against the glass wall. Eyes closed. Breathing hard. Trying to recover. Trying to survive.

Inside the office, Arnav sat motionless. Watching through the glass. Watching her. Always watching her.

Outside, Khushi lowered herself into her new chair. Opened the folder. Forced her hands steady.

"For six years I survived without him."

She took a breath.

"I can survive sitting beside him too."

Then her eyes drifted toward the office. Toward the blurred figure behind the glass. Toward the man who still had the power to ruin her day with a single look.

Fear tightened inside her chest. Not fear for herself. Fear for the secret she'd protected for six years. Fear for the little boy waiting at home. Fear for what would happen if Arnav ever discovered the truth.

Because if he ever found out about Aarav...Everything would change.

And neither of them would survive it.