The night air was thick with silence as I pulled my car to a stop in front of Kathir's office building. The towering structure loomed above, its glass windows reflecting the city lights like a fortress of shadows. I inhaled sharply, gripping the steering wheel for a moment before stepping out. My heels clicked against the pavement as I made my way to the entrance, the cold breeze sending an eerie shiver down my spine.
The security guard barely spared me a glance before allowing me in, which meant there were still employees inside. But as I stepped into the vast lobby, the suffocating stillness made me hesitate. Most of the office was shrouded in darkness, save for a few dimly lit areas. The silence was unsettling, pressing against my ears like an unspoken warning. My stomach churned with unease, a faint tremor running through my limbs.
I walked toward the reception desk, expecting to find someone there.
But there was no one.
"Where's the receptionist?" I muttered under my breath, swallowing the lump of apprehension forming in my throat. The space looked abandoned, almost ghostly. My fingers instinctively clutched the documents in my hand, my only reason for being here. If the office was closed, the security wouldn't have let me in. So where was everyone?
Maybe the receptionist stepped out for a moment.
I glanced around, searching for any sign of life. The emptiness gnawed at me, each passing second making my presence feel more and more like a mistake. I needed to find someone—anyone—to hand these documents over to. My gaze landed on the elevator panel, and my gut instinct urged me toward it. Without another thought, I pressed the button and stepped in.
The air inside was thick and suffocating, the dim yellow light flickering above me. A deep unease settled in my chest as I hesitated before pressing the button for the third floor. The metallic doors slid shut, enclosing me in a box of silence.
With each ascending second, my nerves coiled tighter.
As the elevator doors opened with a faint chime, the hallway ahead stretched into a quiet abyss. The walls were lined with frosted glass doors, each leading to private offices. The atmosphere was unnervingly still, a coldness seeping into my skin. My breath hitched as my eyes landed on a door at the end of the hall.
Kathir Rathore.
A sharp pang ran through my chest.
I didn't want to see him. I really, really didn't.
But I had no choice. If this document reached him directly, I wouldn't have to deal with anyone else. Exhaling slowly, I squared my shoulders and forced my feet forward, each step making my heart hammer against my ribs.
I knocked.
No answer.
I knocked again, firmer this time.
Still nothing.
Frowning, I glanced around. The office was too quiet. I hesitated before cautiously trying the handle. To my shock, the door wasn't locked. My pulse spiked as the door creaked open under my touch. Carefully, I peeked inside, the dim orange glow of the room casting long shadows across the luxurious space.
Kathir's office was massive—spacious and elegant, bathed in warm, modern hues. A towering glass window overlooked the city, the skyline twinkling like scattered diamonds. The room had a sleek black-and-orange theme, sophisticated yet bold, much like the man himself. I couldn't help but admire the aesthetic, momentarily distracted by the stunning night view.
But then—
Footsteps.
My breath caught in my throat.
Someone was coming.
Panic seized me, and before I could think, I darted toward the nearest hiding spot—a cabinet beside his desk. I barely squeezed myself in before the door creaked open. My pulse thundered in my ears as I peered through the narrow gap.
Kathir walked in.
His presence filled the room effortlessly, commanding and unreadable. His black fitted T-shirt hugged his frame, emphasizing his toned build. As he strolled to his desk, the dim light caught the inked designs on his right arm, the tattoos flexing as he moved. He reached for a bottle of wine and a glass, pouring himself a drink. The faint clink of ice cubes echoed in the silent room as he brought the glass to his lips, his neck muscles flexing as he took a slow sip.
I clenched my fists, my body stiff with anxiety.
What the hell was I doing?
I needed to get out of here.
Just as I was about to move, a knock on the door made me freeze again.
Kathir glanced toward the entrance, his expression unreadable. "Come in," he said, his voice low and composed.
A woman with short brown hair stepped inside hesitantly, clutching a stack of papers. There was something off about her posture—her hands fidgeting slightly, her shoulders tense.
"Yes, Catlyn?" Kathir's voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable weight to it.
She swallowed before speaking. "Sir, I need your signature on these."
Kathir took the papers, flipping through them lazily. His sharp gaze flickered to her. "Rawther usually handles this."
Catlyn shifted uncomfortably. "He… he went home early. His son is unwell, so I'm covering for him."
Kathir nodded, his expression unreadable. He set the papers on his desk and picked up his wine glass again, swirling the liquid absentmindedly.
But then, something changed.
His lips curled into a slow, knowing grin.
A shiver ran down my spine.
Why was he smiling like that?
Catlyn stiffened, her nervousness growing more apparent.
Kathir set his glass down and leaned back slightly, his fingers grazing his jaw. "Do you want some wine?" he asked, his voice smooth yet oddly steady.
Catlyn's face paled. "No, sir," she said immediately, her tone uncertain.
Kathir sighed, tilting his head slightly. "Fine. Have a seat."
"I-it's okay, sir," she stammered.
His smirk deepened. "No? You should."
Before she could protest, he placed his hands on her shoulders and gently guided her into the chair. She looked helpless, her fingers twisting anxiously in her lap. Kathir leaned forward, one hand bracing against his desk, his face mere inches from hers.
I swallowed hard, my body rigid with unease.
What the hell was he doing?
"Catlyn…" His voice dropped lower, dangerously quiet. "Are you hiding something from me?"
Catlyn's breath hitched. "No, sir," she whispered, shaking her head.
Kathir arched a brow. "Really?"
The room felt suffocating. His gaze sharpened, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. Catlyn's hands trembled as she clutched the hem of her dress.
Why was he pressing her like this?
What did she have to hide?
And more importantly—
What the hell was I supposed to do?
Kathir exhaled sharply, the weight of his breath ghosting over Catlyn's trembling face. His eyes, dark and unreadable, bored into hers. "I think you still remember the incident," he murmured, his voice unnervingly steady. "What happened to Adam?"
Catlyn froze. Her lips parted as if she wanted to scream, but no sound came out. Her eyes glistened, wide with terror, and I could see it—the desperate urge to speak, to confess, but something was holding her back.
Kathir's gaze sharpened, his jaw tightening. "So, do you have something to tell me?" he pressed, his voice slicing through the thick silence like a knife.
A shaky breath escaped Catlyn. Her fingers curled into trembling fists at her sides, her shoulders rising and falling in uneven breaths. Tears welled up, blurring her vision, but still, she shook her head.
For a long, tense moment, Kathir studied her, his eyes scanning her face like he was peeling back layers, searching for the truth she refused to speak. Then, without warning, he lifted his hand and slammed it against the table.
BANG!
The sound ricocheted through the room, making the air itself tremble.
Catlyn gasped, her body jolting as if she'd been struck. Her breath hitched, her eyes squeezing shut in fear.
And then—Kathir moved.
With a swift, unrelenting grip, he grabbed her wrist and yanked her up from the chair. She stumbled, her feet barely catching up with his forceful pull as he dragged her toward the balcony.
"Sir! Sir, where are you taking me?" Her voice cracked, raw with fear. She struggled, yanking at his grip, her free hand clawing at his wrist in a desperate attempt to break free. But Kathir didn't even flinch. His hold was unyielding, his movements precise, calculated.
My heart pounded so hard it felt like it would burst out of my chest. My breath caught in my throat as I watched in horror from my hiding spot.
And then—he pushed open the balcony doors.
The night air rushed in, cold and unforgiving. The city lights flickered below, a stark contrast to the suffocating darkness in the room.
My stomach twisted violently. No. No. No.
Before I could even process what was happening, Kathir lifted Catlyn off the ground.
She screamed.
My blood turned ice-cold.
"Goodbye, Catlyn," he said, his voice devoid of any emotion.
I shot forward instinctively—but then—
"I'll tell you everything!"
Time itself seemed to freeze.
Kathir's grip loosened. Slowly, he pulled her back and set her down.
Catlyn collapsed onto the floor, gasping for breath, her body convulsing with tremors. Tears streamed down her face as she clutched her chest, trying to ground herself from the nightmare she had just survived.
Then, with shaking hands, she reached for her wristwatch and pried something loose. A tiny chip, no bigger than a fingernail, rested in her palm.
She extended it toward Kathir, her fingers trembling.
Kathir took it, his jaw ticking as he examined the object between his thumb and forefinger.
"Mr. Paul asked me to corrupt your projects," Catlyn confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "So you would lose everything. The signature… was just to copy yours."
A slow, suffocating silence followed.
The name sent a jolt through me.
Paul.
The man who lost his job because of me.
A cruel realization settled in. This was revenge. A twisted game of sabotage.
Kathir remained silent, his expression unreadable, but the tension radiating from him was suffocating. His jaw clenched tighter, his fingers twitching ever so slightly, as if restraining himself from doing something worse.
Then—
"Get out," he said, his voice eerily quiet but laced with venom.
Catlyn flinched. She scrambled to her feet and bolted for the door.
Panic surged through me. Move, Vidya. Move!
I ducked back behind the cabinet, holding my breath as she ran past. But when she reached the door and twisted the handle—
It wouldn't budge.
A strangled whimper escaped her. She yanked harder. Nothing.
Terror flooded her features.
Behind her, Kathir stepped out of the balcony shadows, his lips curling into a smirk.
"Oh."
He walked toward her, his pace slow, deliberate.
Catlyn spun around, pressing herself against the door as though she could sink into it and disappear.
Kathir leaned in, his breath fanning over her face as he punched in the access code beside the door. His jaw clenched, his eyes dark and calculating.
"If you want to get out of here," he murmured, his voice dripping with icy amusement, "you need my access, stupid."
My stomach dropped.
What? Then how the hell am I supposed to get out?
Fear curled around my throat, suffocating. I had witnessed everything. If he saw me—if he knew I was here—
The door clicked open, snapping me from my thoughts.
Catlyn wasted no time. She shoved the door open and sprinted down the hall.
Kathir sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before stepping out of the room.
I barely had a second to react.
As the door began to close, I lunged forward, catching it just in time. My heart hammered against my ribs as I slipped out, my breath shallow and ragged.
Then, my eyes landed on Kathir.
He was taking the stairs.
A relieved sigh escaped my lips.
Finally. I'm out of his room.
I needed to get out before he saw me.
Forcing my shaky legs to move, I hurried toward the elevator. My hands were clammy, my fingers trembling as I tapped the button. Come on, come on.
The doors slid open, and I stepped inside, pressing the ground floor button.
As soon as the elevator doors opened, I bolted toward the receptionist's desk.
She looked up, startled by my rushed approach.
Forcing a smile, I slid the documents across the counter. "Sanjay's documents," I said, my voice only slightly steadier than my racing heart.
The receptionist nodded, taking them without question.
I turned away, inhaling deeply, trying to push down the lingering terror that clawed at my chest.
I had just escaped a nightmare.
But something told me this wasn't over.
I hurried towards the main door, my breaths shallow and eneven, the weight of what I had just witnessed pressing heavily on my chest. My hand were trembling, my legs felt weak, and my mind screamed at me to get out of here.
Such a traumatizing scene.
The image of Kathir gripping Catlyn, the sheer coldness in his voice, the way he had nearly thrown her over balcony- it all replayed in my mind like a nightmare on an endless loop.
Working here? No way. I'd be risking my life.
I quickened my pace, desperate to escape this place and never look back. But just as I reached the door, my steps halted.
Kathir was walking in.
The moment I saw him, my breath hitched. I forced myself to move, to act normal, but as I stepped forward, his broad shoulder brushed against mine. A violent shiver ran down my spine.
Then----
A rough grip on my arm.
I gasped, my widening in shock as he yanked me back.
My heart heart slammed against my ribs, terror creeping into my veins as I turned to look at him.
Kathir's eyes were closed, his jaw clenched so tight that the muscles twichited beneath his skin. His grip on my arm tightened, his fingers digging in, sending a sharp sting through my flesh.
Oh no.
Did he find he out? Did he know I had seen everything?
I swallowed hard, my throat painfully dry. My fingers curled into fists as anxiety coiled inside me like a suffocating rope.
"Leave me," I whispered, my voice trembling, but he didn't move.
His grip only tightened.
Pain lanced through my arm, making my breath hitch.
"Leave me," I tried again, my voice weaker this time, "what are you doing?"
Still, nothing
He stood there like a stone, unmoving, his eyes still shut, his jaw locked. His fingers pressed deeper into my skin, sending a searing pain through my arm.
Panic surged in my chest. The suffocating silence, the tension, the sheer force of his hold--it was too much.
I snapped.
"Kathir!" I screamed his name, shoving at his solid chest with my free hand. He barely budged. His body was like an immovable wall, hard and unyielding.
Then----
He opened his eyes.
My breath caught.
His gaze was bloodshot, his irises dark pools of something unreadable--pain, fury, torment?
Tears welled in his eyes.
For a spilt second, his stare met mine, as if searching for something, before his brows drew together.
His forehead creased. Realization flickered across hi face.
Then, abruptly, he let go.
I stumbled back, clutching my throbbing arm. Before I could even process what had just happened, he turned on his heel and strode away, his steps hurried, his body rigid.
Gone.
I stood there, frozen, my mind still reeling. My arm throbbed with a burning pain, and when I looked down---
Red.
His fingers had left red bruises on my skin, the imprint oh his grip clear as day.
I let out a frustrated breath, rolling my eyes.
"What's wrong with him?" I muttered, rubbing my sore arm. My jaw clenched in irritation. "What did I even do?"
Whatever it was, I wasn't going to stick around to find out.
I turned back toward the door, my resolve strengthening.
I was done with this place.