At 5th Day –

Dharini’s POV

Days passed rapidly, as every team member’s priority was the project. Today was crucial—the Russian clients were coming—and I was dead serious about the presentation I had prepared.

I had delivered many presentations before, but this one felt different. The pressure, the importance… it all weighed heavier than usual. And then there was Aditya. Instead of solving problems, he seemed determined to create them. The reasons were obvious—his project had been handed over to me, and now even the presentation was mine, all because Kartavya sir had been impressed with my work.

As the time for the presentation approached, I walked toward the conference room. Quietly, I crossed my fingers and whispered a small prayer, hoping everything would go smoothly.

I opened the door and stepped inside. Moving toward Kartavya sir’s chair, I stood behind him. Four men—our clients—walked in shortly after. Kartavya sir came and stood in front of me. His gaze lingered on my face for a moment before he said,

“Don’t be nervous. You’ve done excellent work. I know you can handle this.”

For a second, I was stunned. A man who usually threw cold daggers with his words was… encouraging me?

I nodded meekly, still processing his words, as he took his seat. Shesh sir came and stood beside me.

I stepped forward and began the presentation.

As I explained everything, I noticed Kartavya sir watching with what looked like a proud smile. But the clients… their expressions were different. Their eyebrows furrowed. One of them had deep lines forming on his forehead, as if something wasn’t sitting right.

And then, suddenly—

One of the clients stood up and slammed his hand on the table.

“Is this some kind of joke, Mr. Kartavya? You are presenting the exact same proposal that a Canadian company showed us.”

Another client added, his voice sharp with disappointment,

“We were told you tried to take their project information, but we didn’t believe it. We came here expecting professionalism… but this is disappointing. We thought you valued time. Clearly, we were wrong.”

Their words hung heavily in the room.

Kartavya sir’s eyes turned red—not just with anger, but with something deeper, something burning beneath the surface. Before anything else could be said, the clients walked out.

Silence followed.

Shesh sir and I stood there, watching him. He was rolling a paperweight in his hand, his gaze fixed on the conference room wall, his eyes still blazing.

I slowly stepped aside, unsure of what to do.

Suddenly, he stood up and hurled the paperweight at the wall.

I flinched at the impact.

Shesh sir subtly gestured for me to leave. I turned toward the door, ready to step out—but before I could, a strong grip caught my wrist.

In one swift motion, he pulled me back and turned me toward him.

The force made me stumble slightly, and suddenly, I was too close—far too close.

His breath was heavy, warm against my face. His eyes… they were furious, almost cruel in their intensity. But then—

I noticed something.

At the edge of his eye, near the cornea, there was a tiny brown dot.

At first, I thought it was dust. But as his gaze shifted, it didn’t move.

It wasn’t dust.

It was… part of him.

Strangely, in that heated moment, my attention drifted from his anger to that tiny detail. It was so unexpected, so unique.

I looked at his other eye—there was nothing there.

Just one eye.

Just one small, beautiful imperfection.

Girls usually got lost in his deep brown eyes…

And here I was—

completely distracted by a tiny mole in one of them.

What was that even called?

I didn’t know.

“Why are you staring at me like an idiot? Just give me answers, damn it!” he said, pushing me slightly backward. I stumbled, snapping out of my thoughts. For a moment, I couldn’t even understand what he was saying.

“Are you deaf? If all the project details were with you, then how did the information get leaked?”

Just then, my eyes widened as his words finally registered.

“Aa… aap kehne ka matlab kya hai? (What do you mean?) Are you saying that I leaked your project?” I said in a low voice. Seeing his anger, my body refused to raise my voice.

“If not you, then who the hell leaked the project details? Only three of us had access—first me, second you, and third the company record, which is password-protected… and only I know that password.”

“I haven’t done this, trust me, I—”

Before I could finish, he suddenly grabbed my neck and pulled me toward him. His face moved close to my hair, near my ear, and he said in a low, dangerous tone, “I told you… if I didn’t get this project, it wouldn’t be good for you, didn’t I?”

His grip wasn’t tight—he wasn’t applying pressure—but it still froze me in place. My breath hitched. He had never been this close before. His strong cologne surrounded me, filling my senses. I inhaled sharply—

And then suddenly, I pushed him away.

The next second, I started sneezing uncontrollably. One after another—five, six, maybe more—like a chain reaction. My sneezes never came alone; they always arrived in groups, just like this, because of my sinus.

When I opened my eyes, I saw him—he was on one knee, the other leg stretched out, one hand gripping the chair, the other supporting himself. He was staring at me like I had completely lost my mind.

Trying to maintain my composure, I straightened myself and said, “I’m sorry, sir. It’s just… I sneezed because of your perfume. That’s why I pushed you. I didn’t mean to push you that hard. I’m really sorry.”

I extended my hand to help him up. He took it, but the next moment, he suddenly twisted my arm behind my back.

A sharp gasp escaped me as he pulled me close again—so close that my front collided with his. His breath fanned against my face. But this time, my attention shifted to something else—a small mark on his forehead. It looked like an old scar, faint but still visible.

“You’ll pay for this,” he said coldly, and then released me.

“Wh… what did you just say?” I asked, my voice trembling. Then, gathering some courage, I spoke louder, “How can you say that I leaked the information? It could have been you as well!”

His eyes darkened instantly.

“Shesh!” he called out loudly. “Do you have proof, or are you resigning?”

Shesh stepped forward and showed me a tablet. “This is your email ID from which the project details were sent. And it was sent from your laptop. We even had someone in that company confirm this information—and it has never been wrong.”

My hands trembled as I took the tablet. I checked it… and he was right.

It was my email.

My laptop.

But I didn’t do it.

I looked at Kartavya sir and said, “Trust me, I didn’t do this. Just think about it—if I really wanted to leak the information, I would have used a fake email ID. I would have sent it from a cyber café, not from my own laptop.”

He stepped closer and said coldly, “Maybe… because of money. After all, that’s why you joined this company, right?”

Tell me how much money that canada company gave you hah ?he asked.

I shook my head in no...

I shook my head helplessly. I didn’t know how to make him understand. Yes, I needed money—but I could never betray him.

“Sir, trust me…” I tried to explain, but he cut me off in the middle.

“Three crores,” he said coldly. “You’ll pay three crores for this loss. And the humiliation… that’s separate.”

Three crores…” I muttered under my breath.

Here I was, working for just a few thousand… how could I ever pay three crores?

As that thought consumed me, I saw him turn and walk out of the cabin.

Panic hit instantly.

I ran after him and grabbed his forearm.

He stopped.

And turned.

This time, he really looked at me.

His eyes softened slightly—maybe because I was on the verge of breaking down. My lips trembled, and for a moment, no words came out.

“S-sir… please listen to m-me… I didn’t le-leak the information… I swear to God…” I said, my voice shaking as I clutched at my own neck nervously.

“Please believe me… I di… didn’t—”

A sob broke through my words mid-sentence. My hand was still gripping his arm—I didn’t let go, as if that was the only thing stopping him from walking away.

“You leaked the information, and it’s proven. So you have to pay the amount… or I’ll file a complaint against you,” he said coldly.

The word complaint—police—hit me like a shock.

My eyes widened in fear.

“Sir, please don’t do that… please believe me, I didn’t leak the information. If you involve the police, my career will be destroyed,” I said hurriedly, my words tumbling over each other.

“Even if it’s proven later that I didn’t do it… even if an investigation clears me… the question on my honesty will remain forever.”

I took a shaky breath and continued, almost in one go—

“Please, sir… don’t do this. If you want, investigate… ask someone to investigate properly… but do it quietly… please.”

“Oh, so now you’re telling me what to do and what not to do?” he said sharply.

I immediately shook my head.

“N-no, sir… it’s not like that… it’s just my request…”

“Please, sir… don’t do this,” I said, my voice trembling.

Before I could step back, he moved forward—closing the small distance between us in a single step.

My breath hitched.

A sharp gasp escaped my lips as he leaned closer, his presence suddenly overwhelming. He nuzzled his face into my hair, his voice low and unsettling as he whispered, “If you don’t want this… then I have another option.”

My heart pounded loudly in my chest.

He stepped back, his eyes locking onto mine.

“What… what other option?” I asked, my voice barely steady.

He walked toward his chair and sat down calmly, as if nothing had just happened. Then he gestured toward the chair opposite him.

I hesitated for a moment, then slowly walked forward and sat down.

He extended his hand toward Shesh, who immediately handed him a set of papers.

Kartavya glanced at them briefly, then looked at me—his expression unreadable.

Without a word, he slid the papers across the table toward me.

“If you sign this contract,” he said, his tone calm yet firm, “then I’ll forget about the three crores. And on top of that, you’ll continue to receive your regular salary… and I’ll promote you as well.”

I frowned, confusion tightening my expression, and picked up the papers.

My eyes moved to the heading—

Contract of Marriage.

For a second, my mind went blank.

Then shock hit me all at once.

I stood up abruptly, the chair scraping harshly against the floor.

“What the hell is this?!” I shouted, my voice echoing in the room.

Even Shesh sir flinched at the sudden outburst.

I looked at him.

His reaction was completely neutral—no change, no tension, not even a single line on his forehead.

And that… that made my anger boil even more.

I threw the papers back onto the table and said, “You know what? If you want an investigation, then do your fucking investigation. And call the police too. I want to know which bastard leaked the information.”

My chest was rising and falling heavily as I continued, my voice sharp and unfiltered.

“And until it’s proven that I’m guilty—until the police themselves say it—I won’t give you a single penny. Fuck off.”

With that, I turned and started walking toward the door.

“I’ll also help in the orphanage you support… I’ll send money there myself,” I added as I moved.

My steps suddenly halted.

Something inside me snapped completely.

I turned back.

Without thinking, I grabbed the paperweight from the table and threw it at him.

He dodged it.

My anger burned even fiercer.

“Do you really think my character is that low?” I shouted. “That for some money, I would marry you? That too a contract marriage?”

I let out a bitter, almost mocking laugh.

“Have you seen your face in the mirror in the morning? If yes, then understand this—that face is not for me to marry. Get that?”

My voice echoed through the room, raw, furious, and completely unrestrained.

“My face? I have seen it in the mirror… and now you will also see that face every morning, every night, every day—by signing this contract,” he said.

“Are you out of your mind? Main mar jaungi lekin tumse shadi nahi karungi!” (I would rather die, but I will not marry you!) I said.

As I said this, his eyes darkened. Then he smirked and said, “Tsk… tsk… marna tha. Tumhe toh meri nazar mein aane se pehle marna chahiye tha… ab toh na tum mar paogi, na main marne dunga.” (You should have died before coming into my sight… now neither will you be able to die, nor will I let you die.)

“Mujhe shadi nahi karni tumse.” (I don’t want to marry you.) I said in a clear voice. He stepped forward and said, “Tumhe mujhse hi shadi karni hogi.” (You will marry only me.) His tone was firm—final.

I looked up, then turned toward Shesh sir, who was standing there with his head lowered. “Shesh sir, inka koi dimag ka treatment chal raha hai kya? Agar aisa hai toh please inhe hospital le jaye… kuch bhi bakwas kar rahe hai.” (Is he undergoing any mental treatment? If yes, please take him to a hospital… he’s talking nonsense.) I said.

He looked at me, then at Kartavya sir, then back at me… and again lowered his head. Seeing his reaction, something inside me sank.

“Arey kuch toh bolo… mundi neeche kyun kar li aapne, Shesh sir? Main aapse baat—” (At least say something… why have you lowered your head, Shesh sir? I’m talking to you—)

“Shesh, out!” he shouted, cutting me off. Shesh sir immediately rushed out of the room.

“What the hell did you just do?!” I shouted.

“Stop cursing me. And stop taking another man’s name from this pretty mouth of yours,” he said, stepping closer.

I took a deep breath, trying to control myself. “Tumne shadi ko mazak samajh ke rakha hai? Aur bhai, kyun tumhe mujhse shadi karni hai? Itni saari ladkiyan hain—kar lo unse shadi. Hoga toh ek saath dus-baarah ke saath karo, lekin mera picha chhod do!” (Have you made marriage a joke? And why do you even want to marry me? There are so many girls—marry them. If you want, marry ten or twelve at once, but leave me alone!) I said in an irritated and frustrated tone.

As I said this, he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward him. His eyes—already dark—locked onto mine. Both my hands instinctively rested on his chest. Then his hand slid to my waist—not perfect, not sculpted, but his grip made my breath hitch again.

And again—

My attention caught that tiny red-brown dot in his eye.

He pulled me closer, our chests pressed together, and said, “Agar dobara ‘bhai’ bola na… jis honton ko hila kar tumne woh word bola hai, un par mere hont honge.” (If you call me ‘brother’ again… the lips you used to say that word—I’ll put my lips on them.) His breath brushed against my face.

For a second, everything froze.

Then reality hit me.

I pushed him hard.

He stumbled backward.

And before I could even think—

My palm struck his cheek.

A sharp, loud sound echoed through the entire conference room.

My own breath shook.

Without looking back, I stepped away and rushed out of the room. I ran toward the lift, my heart pounding violently, then took the exit of the company.

As soon as I stepped outside, I stopped.

All the strength left my body at once.

I took a deep, shaky breath… and somehow made my way toward home.