The breakfast hall was too quiet.
No music. No chatter. Just the hollow silence of power held too tight.
The long table gleamed with royal dishes — golden bread, silver fruit, crystal pitchers of juice. But no one touched them. Because tension had already filled their mouths.
And Seher?
Seher wasn’t here to eat.
She sat tall, regal in an elegant sea-blue saree, her appetite long dead — but her gaze? Sharp. Calculating. Watching everything.
Across from her, Kiaan sat at the head of the table, every inch the cold monarch of a corporate empire. Sharp suit. Sharper eyes. Not a single strand of hair out of place.
He didn’t call for the servants.He poured the coffee himself. Her coffee.
Because he remembered — she always drank it first.
He slid the porcelain cup toward her, slow and controlled. And just as she reached for it, their fingers brushed. Light. Electric.
He looked into her eyes.
She didn’t blink.
> Intentional?
Maybe.
Because the twist in her stomach wasn’t made of caffeine.
Then—
The doors creaked open. In came Ishaan.
Messy hair. Sleeves rolled up. Coat slung over his shoulder. One hand in his pocket, the other still carrying the tired heat of the office.
He didn’t bow. Didn’t greet.
Just dropped lazily into the seat beside Seher with a crooked grin like he belonged there — or wanted to.
> “Morning,” he said, voice deep, husky, flirt-drenched.
“Mind if I borrow some of your energy?”
And before she could answer—
He picked up her coffee cup.
Tilted it.
Drank from the exact spot where her lipstick kissed the rim.
> “Not bad,” he murmured. Then added with a wicked smirk,
“But I prefer something sweeter.”
Seher stilled.
Kiaan didn’t.
His spoon paused mid-stir. His chair scraped back. His eyes burned, jaw locked so tight you could hear it crack.
Ishaan watched him.
Smirked.
And winked.
> Just once. Just enough.
Then Kiaan rose. No words.
Just storm in a suit.
He pushed back his chair and walked out, silence sharp in his wake.
Seher sat in the middle of it all — between control and chaos, heat and cold, coffee and fire.
And in that moment, she realized:
> They both wanted her.
But not together.
And both of them were slipping — because of her.
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