Aythijhya Rudravanshi—this girl… she is Dhiraj Rudravanshi’s niece? I know she is a very private person, but she didn’t even tell Inaya about it! From the look on Inaya’s face, I can tell she’s just as shocked as I am.
The look on her face is stoic and unreadable, just like stone—giving nothing away. Not a flicker of emotion, not a single hint to what lies beneath. Yet, there’s something about her that draws attention without effort. She looks mesmerizing, her long hair swaying softly like waves brushing against the shore, calm on the surface yet carrying a quiet intensity.
“Good evening, everyone,let's begin” Shivang says, drawing everyone’s attention and that’s when her eyes find mine as I sat beside him.
For a second, everything else fades.
Her gaze is calm, almost unreadable, yet there’s a flicker of surprise beneath it—something quick, something she tries to bury.
But she doesn’t look away. She holds my gaze, steady, as if measuring something…or maybe remembering.
And I feel it.
A strange pull.
Unfamiliar, but not unwelcome.
I offer a soft smile, testing the moment, waiting to see if she’ll respond.
For a heartbeat, she doesn’t move as if she is lost in my eyes.
Then—
she looks away.
Abruptly.
As if the connection lingers longer than she intends.
As the meeting starts, I keep glancing at her from the side. Sometimes, I catch her looking at me too—but I don’t mind.
After all, I’m a handsome man.
Shivang dims the lights slightly and starts the projector. The screen flickers to life, displaying the first slide clean layouts, sharp lines, a detailed blueprint of the proposed structure.
He speaks with control, walking everyone through the design —foundation plans, elevation views, spatial divisions. His voice is steady, but there’s a tightness beneath it, like he’s holding everything together by precision alone.
Everyone is focused.
Except me.
The room stays quiet except for the soft hum of the projector and the occasional shuffle of papers. A few members lean forward, studying the layouts. Others jot down notes, their expressions serious and calculating.
A question is raised—something about structural load and design feasibility.
Shivang answers immediately.
Confident. Prepared.
Another voice cuts in—this time about cost efficiency.
The discussion deepens.
Numbers are thrown across the table. Estimates. Budgets. Margins. Every word feels measured, every response weighed before it’s spoken.
After the presentation ends, the real conversation begins.
Members start explaining their respective roles—construction timelines, material sourcing, projected returns. The focus shifts to profitability, then narrows sharply to the budget.
That’s where the tension sits.
Subtle—but there.
They review multiple blueprints for the new branch of “Hotel Aythijhya” planned for Berlin.
Each design carries its own vision—modern luxury, structural efficiency, aesthetic appeal.
Decisions hang in the air.
“Have you ever worked outside of India?” Aythijhya asks, her voice calm yet controlled as she looks at Shivang.
“No, Miss Rudravanshi. This is my first international deal,” Shivang answers.
“Do you think you can handle this project efficiently without experience working in another country?” she asks, her tone professional.
“I don’t have experience working outside India, I agree. But I do have the efficiency and ambition that won’t disappoint you.” Shivang replies Confidently.
“I do like some of the blueprints, but I am a bit worried about your management. You do know you’ll have to spend a lot of time in Berlin, and I heard you are pursuing your master’s as well.”
She questions , though her question is necessary.
“Yes, I do know. And as I promised, I will handle this project personally. I won’t back off from it. I’m pursuing my master’s through distance learning, so I don’t have to attend college—I just have to appear for my exams accordingly. I think this project will help me in my studies too.”
Shivang , The man who was too nervous a few hours ago before the meeting, Answers with calm and calculated tone.
“And what about your company?” She questions again.
“Miss Rudravanshi, we won’t disappoint you. One of our most efficient teams will be working on this project, while the rest will be handled by other members. They’re talented, young, and creative. Also, there’s me, Revanth Ravalyan, and Adhir Thakur. We will definitely handle this. "
I said locking my eyes on Aythijhya.
“Good. I’ll be holding you to that,” she says, her voice calm but edged with quiet authority.
“Shivang, your blueprints are exceptional. We would like to take a few minutes to discuss privately,” Mr. Dhiraj Rudravanshi said.
“How about we take a 15-minute break?”
I suggested.
“Yeah, sure,” Shivang said.
Chairs scraped softly against the floor as the room eased out of its rigid posture. Low conversations began to rise, replacing the earlier silence.
“Please feel free to step out or grab some refreshments,” Shivang added, gesturing toward the door.
Adhir leaned back in his chair, stretching slightly. “Finally,” he muttered under his breath, earning a brief glance from Shivang.
I stood, eyes flickering once toward Aythijhya before I looked away, expression unreadable.
Across the room, she remained composed, exchanging a few quiet words with her uncle before turning toward the exit.
For a moment—
her gaze met mine again.
Brief.
Unspoken.
Then she walked past, leaving behind a silence that felt louder than the discussion we had just ended.
The moment we step out of the boardroom, the noise fades behind us.
Uncle doesn’t stop walking until we reach the far end of the corridor, away from lingering ears. His silence tells me more than words would.
I cross my arms lightly.
"What do you think"
He exhales, slow and measured. “The proposal is strong... But"
"But?" i arched a brow.
“There’s risk,” he says, turning toward me.
“Inexperience at this scale. International operations aren’t forgiving.”
I nod. I already see that.
“His confidence is steady,” I say. “Not reckless.”
Uncle studies me for a moment, like he’s weighing something beyond the deal.
“You noticed that too.”
“I notice everything,” I reply calmly.
A faint smile touches his lips. It disappears just as quickly.
“The designs are solid,” he continues. “Execution will decide everything. Berlin isn’t a forgiving market.”
“And you think he can’t handle it?”
“I think he hasn’t been tested there yet.”
Fair.
I glance back toward the closed boardroom doors.
“He didn’t hesitate,” I murmur. “Even under pressure.”
“Confidence is easy in a room,” Uncle says.
“Reality is different.”
Silence settles between us for a second.
Then—
“I want oversight,” I say.
His brows lift slightly. “From you?”
“Yes.”
“That’s unusual.”
“So is this deal.”
He studies me again, more carefully this time.
“This is business, Aythijhya.”
“I’m aware,” I say evenly.
A pause.
Then he nods, slow but certain.
“Alright. We proceed ,with conditions."
“Strict ones,” I add.
“Of course.”
I turn, already done with the discussion.
But as we walk back—
one thought lingers.
Not about the deal.
About him.
And that—
is far more inconvenient.
The room settles again as everyone takes their seats.
Conversations die down the moment Aythijhya and Dhiraj step back in.
No one says it,but everyone is waiting.
Shivang straightens unconsciously, his fingers tightening slightly over the edge of the table.
Aythijhya takes her seat without haste.
Composed.Unbothered.
Dhiraj glances at her once.
A silent cue.
She leans back slightly, her gaze sweeping across the table before settling on Shivang.
“We’ll proceed,” she says.
A pause.
Relief flickers across a few faces.
Too soon.
“With conditions.”
There it is.
The air tightens again.
Shivang doesn’t interrupt.
“Given the scale of this project and its location,” she continues, “oversight will be necessary.”
Adhir shifts in his seat. Revanth’s posture sharpens.
Shivang finally speaks. “What kind of oversight?”
Her gaze doesn’t leave his.
“I’ll be involved directly.”
Silence.
Not the comfortable kind.
The kind that forces people to think twice.
Shivang studies her for a second—just a second longer than appropriate.
Shivang's eyes flicker to Mrs. Al-Hamed ,silently asking whether to accept or not . Mr Al-Hamed nods quietly.
“That won’t be a problem.” Shivang says.
Confident.
But not careless.
Interesting.
She nodded.
Dhiraj steps in then, smoothing the edge of the moment.
“The formal terms will be shared by tomorrow from our side,Until then, consider this a provisional approval.”
That’s the signal.
The tension breaks slightly.
Javed Al-Hamed, the legal advisor, speaks next.
“We will share our formal terms by tomorrow, then.”
Nods follow around the table.
Shivang straightens, regaining control of the room.
“The meeting is dismissed.”
Chairs shift. Papers move. Breaths release.
But not completely.
Because something has changed.
And everyone in the room can feel it—
even if they don’t understand it yet.
Write a comment ...