Aayat's POV

The call didn't even last three seconds.

I said his name, and the line died, just static and a flat beep in my ear.

I stared at my phone, thumb still hovering over the screen. The battery icon was a single, gasping red line. I cursed under my breath, shoved the charger in, and tried again.

Busy.

Of course it was.

I could already imagine what his phone looked like right now: press calls, party officials pretending to be "concerned," half the state cabinet demanding a statement, and probably a hundred smug messages from people who'd been waiting for this moment.

I didn't have to guess why.

The photo was everywhere.

It took one swipe through my feed to find it, cropped close, my hand on his shoulder, his head tilted toward mine. A frozen frame made to look like something it wasn't.

It wasn't the intimacy that bothered me.

It was how deliberate it looked.

Someone had waited for that second.

I set the phone down, pressing my palms into my eyes.

The headache from earlier pulsed again, dull but persistent. I'd sobered up fast, adrenaline was good at that.

I paced.

Not because I didn't know what to do.

But because I knew the calls were coming, and I wasn't sure which would land first, the one from Mihir, or the one from a journalist fishing for a quote.

Ten minutes passed.

Fifteen.

Then headlights outside my window.

A car door. Footsteps.

A knock. Firm. Unmistakable.

I opened the door, and there he was, Mihir, jacket still on, expression like granite, phone in one hand, eyes locked on me.

"We need to talk," he said.

I stepped back without answering, letting him in. He closed the door behind him, but his phone was still in his hand, buzzing every few seconds.

Up close, I could see it, the way his jaw was locked tight, the way his shoulders carried the weight of a dozen conversations I knew he'd just walked away from.

"You saw it?" he asked.

"I'm not blind," I said, crossing my arms.

He exhaled once through his nose. "It's already on every channel. Half the cabinet has called me. The other half will by morning."

"And you think I leaked it?"

His eyes snapped to mine. "No. I think someone wanted it out there."

I tilted my head. "You sound sure."

"Because whoever took that shot was in position before I even got you to the car. They weren't just watching, they were waiting."

The anger in his voice was quiet, but it had an edge that could cut steel.

I walked past him to the small table, poured myself a glass of water. "They'll spin it, of course. A little scandal always sells. And if it buries the Noble Estate story along the way..." I let the sentence trail off.

His phone buzzed again. He didn't look at it this time.

"I can manage my press," he said. "What I'm asking is, can you manage yours? Because they're going to camp outside this building by sunrise."

I sipped the water, watching him over the rim of the glass. "You came here to warn me?"

His gaze didn't waver. "I came here to make sure you're not blindsided. And to tell you that whoever set this up just made it a hell of a lot easier for us to find them."

Something in his tone made me put the glass down. "You already have a lead."

"Not yet," he said. "But I will."

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence was heavier than the photo itself.

Then he glanced toward the window, at the faint glow of another pair of headlights slowing on the street. "Your neighbors will start talking if I stay too long."

"They already will," I said.

His mouth twitched, almost a smile, but not quite. He started toward the door.

Just before he stepped out, I said, "Mihir."

He turned back.

"I'm not hiding," I told him.

"I know," he said simply. "Neither am I."

And then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving only the hum of the streetlights and the low, relentless buzz of my phone.

⸻

The door closed behind Mihir.

Silence filled the apartment, except for my phone buzzing on the table.

I looked at the screen.

Ms. Kapoor. My mother.

I thought about ignoring it, but she would just keep calling.

I answered. "What?"

Her voice came sharp and smug. "Well, look who made the evening news. You, in the car with the Chief Minister, looking like you're about to kiss him. Classy, Aayat."

I sighed. "Good evening to you too."

"Oh, don't bother pretending to be polite. I saw the photo. You look like some starstruck intern. Noble Estate's reputation is going to love this."

"I wasn't..." I started.

"... what it looked like? Of course you weren't. But people believe what they see, not what you say. And right now? You look desperate."

I stayed quiet. Talking would just make it worse.

She gave a short laugh. "Honestly, this is more interesting than that dull land case you've been making noise about. At least now people are paying attention."

"Glad you're entertained," I said flatly.

"Oh, I am. Investors, however, are not. So, either fix this or play along and turn it into something useful."

"Goodbye, Ms. Kapoor."

I hung up before she could add more.

⸻

If he hadn't taken me with him tonight, if Mihir hadn't pulled me into his world, into that car, into this mess, none of this would have happened.

I slammed my palm on the table and cursed, low and bitter, "Damn him. If he'd just left me alone, none of this would be happening."

But here I was. Trapped in a scandal I never asked for.

And there was no turning back now.

My phone buzzed again. This time, it wasn't a message, it was his name flashing on the screen.

Mihir Raghuvanshi.

I hesitated. Should I answer?

But before I could decide, the phone slipped from my fingers and rang out.

I grabbed it quickly and swiped to answer.

"Mihir." My voice was cold, sharp.

"Don't hang up," he said, voice steady but urgent. "Listen, I didn't mean to drag you into this. None of it was supposed to happen."

I scoffed. "Supposed to happen? You pulled me into your world, into that car, knowing damn well every camera in the city was there waiting."

"I know. And I'm sorry. But I'm trying to fix this, for both of us."

I bit my lip, fighting the frustration rising up. "Then start by explaining what happens next. Because right now, all I see is chaos."

"We'll figure it out. Together."

I stared at the phone, the weight of his words hitting harder than I expected.

"Fine," I said finally. "But don't expect me to trust you just yet."

"I won't," he said softly.

The line went quiet.

And for the first time tonight, I felt a flicker of something close to hope.

⸻

My mind was racing, the night's events swirling through my head like a whirlwind. How the hell had things gone from normal to chaotic so quickly? I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. I had to pull myself together. Getting upset and angry wasn't going to help anything. I needed to think. I needed to figure out how I was going to manage the fallout of that damn photo.

I ran a hand through my hair, trying to focus. Okay, the press was going to be relentless. They'd have a field day with this. I could already see the headlines and news reports dissecting every detail of the moment in the car. It was going to be a mess. And my mother, god, I didn't even want to think about her reaction.

But all this was bullshit. I knew I was lying to myself. I wouldn't have cared if it was just some low-profile scandal, but this... this was big. This was the Chief Minister of the goddamn State. This was going to be front page news for weeks. And the media would have a field day with it. I let out a long, ragged breath, trying to get a grip on my rampaging thoughts. What the hell had I gotten myself into?

I could almost hear the news vans pulling into my street, the press ready to camp outside all night for a glimpse of me, the gossip columns already writing up their next big story. It was like a nightmare come to life. And the worst part is, I knew the photo looked bad. It looked like something it wasn't. And that damn picture would be everywhere by morning.

⸻

The next morning, I woke up early to the sound of rain lashing against the window. I felt like I hadn't slept at all, the night's events playing over and over in my mind. I got out of bed, throwing on a black t-shirt and slipping my feet into a pair of sneakers. I had a feeling today was going to be long.

An hour later, I was in my car, driving through the rain, the windshield wipers beating back the water as I made my way to Mihir's office.

His office was in a large building in the city center, all glass and steel, towering over the surrounding buildings. I parked my car and made my way through the lobby, nodding politely at the security guard at the desk. Mihir's office was on the top floor, all the way at the end of the hall. I tapped on the door and waited. A few seconds passed, then the door opened, and Mihir was standing there, a cup of coffee in his hand.

"You came?"

"I had to" I replied and added further, "talk"

He set his coffee down, crossing his arms. He leaned back against the edge of his desk.

"You probably think I dragged you into this scandal, right?" he asked.

I snorted, rolling my eyes. "Damn right I do. You're the one who pulled me into that car, knowing damn well every camera in the city was there waiting." I crossed my arms. "What the hell were you thinking?"

He pushed off from the edge of the desk, crossing the room in a few strides. He stopped a few feet away from me, his gaze intense.

"Do you really think I would knowingly drag you into a scandal that could cost both of us our careers for the hell of it?"

I hesitated, his words catching me off guard for a moment. I knew Mihir wasn't an idiot. And I knew damn well this scandal wasn't what he wanted. But still...

"You should have thought of that before you asked me to come with you," I said finally, trying to keep my voice cool. "You knew the press was there, you knew the risk."

His expression darkened, the corners of his lips tightening in irritation. He stepped closer, closing the distance between us.

"Do you think I don't know the risks?" he asked, his voice low. "Do you think I'm stupid?"

I met his gaze, refusing to back down. Anger flared up in my chest, hot and sudden.

"I think you're damn impulsive," I said. "And I think you make careless decisions like this one all the time."

He let out a humorless laugh, the sound sharp and bitter. He stepped even closer, his body just a few inches from mine now. I could feel the heat radiating off him, feel the tension crackling in the air between us.

He leaned in, his voice a low growl. "You think I'm careless? Do you have any idea what it takes to run a state? To keep it together when every politician and journalist is trying to tear it apart? I've spent years building a reputation, a career, and you think I'm just going to throw it all away for a little publicity stunt?"

I could feel my temper rising, my hands clenching into fists. But I forced myself to hold his gaze, to not back down.

"Then why did you do it?" I snapped. "Why ask me to come with you, knowing goddamn well the press was there?"

He clenched his jaw, his anger rising to match mine.

"Don't you think I know that?" he ground out. "You were stumbling, slurring your words, and you could hardly stand up straight. If I hadn't dragged you out of there, you were either going to end up passed out in my car or cracking your damn head open on a rock."

He stepped even closer, pushing me back against the wall. His body was just inches from mine now, his hands braced on either side of my head, effectively pinning me in place.

"What did you expect me to do?" he demanded. "Let you wander off into the night, drunk out of your mind, where any damn reporter could find you?"

I gritted my teeth, glaring up at him. He was so damn close, I could feel the heat of his body radiating off him in waves. I could smell the coffee on his breath, and the clean, masculine scent of his skin.

"I could have handled myself just fine," I seethed. "I didn't need your protection."

He let out a harsh laugh, his eyes sparking with anger. "You call stumbling around drunk handling yourself just fine? You were a goddamn mess, and you have the nerve to blame me for helping you?" He leaned in closer, his face mere inches from mine.

"I was just supposed to watch you make a fool of yourself out there, is that it?"

I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the way my heart skipped at his words. "Yeah, great job saving me," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"We're now stuck in a goddamn scandal. The media thinks we're some goddamn romance novel couple, kissing on New Year's Eve like it's the most romantic thing in the world."

He leaned in closer, and I could feel the heat radiating off his body. "You think I wanted this?" he murmured.

My heart skipped a beat, the anger in my chest fading to something else, something I didn't want to admit even to myself. He was so damn close now, his body pressed against mine, his face so close I could see every fleck of gold in his eyes. I could feel his breath against my skin.

"No," I said, forcing my voice to be cool even as my heart raced. "I'm pretty sure you didn't want this."

He was silent for a moment, staring deep into my eyes. Something flickered across his face, a mix of anger and something else, something I couldn't quite name. Then he let out a humorless laugh.

"You know, if we're stuck in a goddamn romance novel, we might as well go all the way. Marry me."

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