Priya was still confused, but her gaze stopped at the man's fingers—a worn old ring engraved with the faint letters "A.M.", as if it was not a name, but a warning.
The room felt like a luxurious cage filled with silence—soft yellow lights, tall walls where every painting hung perfectly in place, and a large glass window beyond which the damp night after the rain seemed to breathe quietly.
When Priya stood up from the sofa, she felt slightly unsteady, as if the floor were slipping under her. Her clothes were still clinging to her body, water dripping from her hair, and the cold lingering in her breath.
"W-where… am I?" her voice trembled, as if the walls themselves were listening.
The man handed her a cotton towel and a dark blue kurta—simple, warm, without any logo.
"Change into this first."
Priya hesitated for a moment before taking it. The clothes were larger than her size, but they carried a faint unfamiliar fragrance—something that lay somewhere between comfort and danger.
She couldn't help but think, Why would a stranger care this much?
Just then, the door opened without a sound.
A well-dressed assistant stepped inside, his eyes carrying the fatigue of endless files and work. He glanced at Priya for a moment and then bowed respectfully to the man.
"Sir, the doctor has checked her. She fainted because of weakness and stress."
Priya's breath caught.
Sir…?
"Also, the investors' meeting tomorrow—"
Before the assistant could finish, the man looked at Priya for a brief moment, as if silently weighing something.
"Cancel it."
The assistant looked shocked.
"Sir, it's very important—"
"I said cancel it."
The word "cancel" fell into the room like a knife.
"Yes, sir."
The assistant immediately left.
The silence in the room grew thick and heavy. The ticking of the clock began to blend with Priya's racing heartbeat.
Gathering courage, she finally asked,
"Can you… at least tell me your name?"
The man kept looking outside the window at the fading marks of rain.
Then he spoke slowly.
"Arjun Mehta."
Priya's throat went dry.
Arjun Mehta—the same name that often appeared in business magazines as the "Dark Horse" of the industry, a man whose single decision could move markets.
And now he was here.
And because of her, he had just canceled an important meeting.
A thought flashed through Priya's mind like lightning.
This wasn't just rescue.
It was the beginning…
And maybe a trap too.