~~~~~~

Days passed, but the moment in Arjun’s office refused to fade from Nayra’s mind. Every time she walked through the corridors, she felt eyes on her — some curious, others wary. And one pair in particular... distant, sharp, but constant.

Arjun Nair hadn’t spoken to her since their confrontation. But he watched.

Silently. Intentionally.

At meetings, his gaze would settle on her longer than necessary.

At team briefings, he’d linger behind — not saying anything, but absorbing everything she did.

And yet, he said nothing. Gave no praise. No warning.

Only silence.

Nayra tried to focus on her work. She buried herself in the wedding convention project, reviewed vendor contracts, supervised theme design changes, and began gaining respect among the planning team.

Even Vidyut noticed.

“You’re doing good,” he said one evening, handing her a cup of tea. “Everyone’s noticing.”

“Even Mr. Nair?” she asked before she could stop herself.

Vidyut smirked. “Especially Mr. Nair. I don’t know what happened between you two, but since that day… he’s been watching. Closely.”

Nayra didn’t respond. She wasn’t sure if she felt proud, scared, or something stranger.

~~~~~

In his private lounge, Arjun leaned back on the leather sofa, fingers clasped around a glass of whiskey. Vikas sat across from him, holding an iPad.

"Give me the update,” Arjun said quietly.

Vikas nodded. “We’ve finalized the Rajvanshi property papers. Prem signed everything. Clearance is underway. Construction can begin within two weeks.”

Arjun sipped slowly. “And Nayra?”

“She’s been working harder than most senior team members. Focused. Creative. She's making quite an impression.”

“Hm.”

“She’s careful, though. She doesn’t speak to Sana. Keeps her head down. But the team likes her.”

Arjun didn’t reply. He swirled the liquid in his glass.

“She’s different,” he murmured. “Foolishly brave. But… real.”

Vikas gave him a side glance. “Do you want me to keep someone watching her?”

“No,” Arjun said sharply. Then added, “Not yet.”

He stood and walked over to the large canvas leaning against the wall — a half-painted image of a lone woman standing against a wildfire.

He dipped his brush into black paint.

“She’s the kind of spark that either burns herself down... or ignites everything around her.”

~~~~

The next morning, Nayra reached the office early again. But something felt different. As soon as she logged in, her system flashed a calendar notification.

“10:00 AM — Internal Presentation. Venue: Conference Room 1. Mandatory.”

She blinked. She hadn’t scheduled any meeting.

She asked Vidyut, but he shook his head. “No idea. But if it’s from the executive floor, you better attend.”

At 10:00, she stepped into the room and paused.

Only one person was sitting at the table — Arjun Nair.

He looked up, calm, unreadable.

“Close the door, Ms. Nayra.”

She obeyed.

“Sit.”

She sat. Her heartbeat kicked up.

“I’m restructuring the creative division,” he said plainly. “You’re moving out of Vidyut’s team. From today, you’ll report directly to me.”

Nayra blinked. “Sir… why?”

“Because I don’t trust anyone else to handle what I’m building,” he replied. “And you… you’ve proven to be more than just noise.”

“I thought I was reckless,” she said without thinking.

Arjun’s lips twitched — just slightly. “You are. But you’re not stupid. And in my world, that’s rare.”

“I’m honored,” she said quietly, unsure what else to say.

“Don’t be,” he replied. “I didn’t say this was going to be easy. You’ll be under pressure. Watched. Judged. Broken, if you make one wrong move.”

“I’m used to pressure, sir,” she said, voice firm.

“Good,” Arjun said, standing. “Because you’re now part of my inner circle.”

He walked to the door, opened it, and looked back at her with that same unnerving stare.

“Welcome to the fire, Nayra.”

Then he walked away, leaving her sitting alone in a room that suddenly felt like the mouth of a lion.

The news spread quickly — Nayra had been moved out of her team and was now directly reporting to Arjun Nair himself.

Most of the office was shocked. Some whispered behind her back.

Sana Mehra, in particular, burned with quiet rage.

“What does that village girl have that I don’t?” she hissed in the break room, staring at Nayra from a distance.

“She must’ve done something to get his attention,” someone muttered.

But Sana said nothing.

She just smiled. A war was coming.

---

Nayra, on the other hand, was walking straight into fire.

That afternoon, she stepped into Arjun’s floor again — but this time, as a direct subordinate.

Vikas greeted her. “You’ll be working from the executive wing now. Your desk is right across from Mr. Nair’s office.”

She looked around — everything here was silent, clean, and intimidating. The walls were darker, the air colder. Power hung in every corner.

Before she could settle in, Arjun’s voice came through the intercom.

“Ms. Nayra. In my office. Now.”

She walked in, holding her notebook tight.

Arjun was at his desk, papers spread before him, his eyes fixed on blueprints.

“I’ve sent you a file,” he said without looking up. “Review the concept proposal for our newest hotel project. I want alternatives to the exterior layout — something bold, something this city hasn’t seen before. You have until 5 p.m.”

“Today?”

He finally looked up.

“Is that a problem?”

Nayra straightened. “No, sir.”

“Good,” he said. “Because I don’t tolerate hesitation. If you want to survive here, prove that your name belongs on something that matters.”

“I will,” she said firmly.

“Then go.”

---

Hours passed. Nayra barely blinked as she worked. Her fingers were stained with pencil graphite, her coffee sat untouched.

She studied old architectural patterns, merged modern minimalism with temple-inspired design. She drew, erased, drew again.

At exactly 4:57 p.m., she walked into Arjun’s office with the designs.

He didn’t even look at her.

“Leave them on the desk.”

She hesitated. “I… included three options. One is inspired by South Indian temple gates, with a sandstone finish. Another is a glass arc design based on—”

“Do I look like I need a presentation?” he snapped, eyes still on his laptop.

Nayra stepped back. “No, sir.”

She left without another word.

---

That night, Arjun stayed back late. Alone.

Everyone else had left the office — except Vikas and the night staff.

Arjun finally opened the folder and began flipping through Nayra’s concepts.

Halfway through the first design, he stopped. His eyes sharpened.

By the time he got to the second and third, he was leaning forward, focused.

Bold. Thoughtful. Cultural... but clean.

Something stirred inside him.

He picked up his phone.

“Vikas, cancel tomorrow’s meeting with the architects. Tell them we already have the base concept.”

"You liked it?” Vikas asked.

Arjun didn’t answer.

He stared at the drawing of a sandstone archway.

“Tell Nayra to come see me. First thing tomorrow.”

~~~~~

The next morning, Nayra stood before his desk once again.

He gestured toward the chair. “Sit.”

She obeyed, cautiously.

Arjun pushed the drawings toward her.

“You did this?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you copy anything?”

“No, sir.”

“Did anyone help you?”

“No, sir.”

He leaned back in his chair, studying her — as if seeing her for the first time.

“You surprise me, Ms. Nayra.”

She said nothing.

“I’ve dealt with architects who’ve spent a decade in this field and couldn’t produce something half this good. And here you are — from a village, with no professional design training — and you’ve managed this in six hours?”

She lifted her chin. “Because I had to.”

He stood, slowly walking around the desk toward her.

“Is that how you live, Nayra?” he asked, voice low. “Always doing things because you have to?”

“I don’t have the luxury of options, sir.”

Arjun stared at her.

There was something fierce in her. Something that irritated him... and intrigued him.

“I could break you, you know,” he said coldly. “I could ruin your career with a single word.”

“But you haven’t,” she replied, holding his gaze. “And I don’t think it’s because you’re merciful.”

A tense silence hung between them.

Then, finally, Arjun gave a short nod.

“Get back to work, Ms. Nayra. You’re on this project now — fully. Every detail. Every mistake. If this fails, your head rolls first.”

She stood. “Understood, sir.”

As she walked out, Arjun watched her.

He still didn’t trust her.

But now… he couldn’t ignore her either.

Days passed. Then weeks.

And within those weeks, something unexpected began to happen — Nayra Shetty was no longer the girl working quietly in the background.

She was now the name murmured in meetings.

The designer behind the fresh vision for the new hotel project.

The girl who stood face-to-face with Arjun Nair… and lived to tell the tale.

She reviewed blueprints, took meetings Arjun couldn’t attend, handled senior vendors, and even presented her designs to the city’s urban board.

She made mistakes, yes — but she learned fast. Fierce. Focused.

And Arjun?

He watched. Every move. Every word.Sometimes quietly from behind glass. Sometimes openly, eyes cold but calculating.

He didn’t praise her.

But he didn’t stop her, either.

Nayra too Observed his actions,words,and his eyes!. But stayed quiet.

~~~~

A major update for the Jaipur hotel project was being submitted to the city’s architectural approval board — a critical milestone.

Arjun had been out of the country for three days, attending a global investors’ summit. He had trusted Nayra to hold things steady.

She had reviewed the designs three times.

Rechecked the site specs.

Even revised the cultural integration plan with the help of Devika Sharma.

But somewhere…

Somehow…

A critical error slipped through.

The design files Nayra approved had a mismatch in elevation calculations, which altered structural dimensions in the central courtyard — a zone protected by Jaipur’s urban heritage laws.

The mistake wasn’t just costly.

It was legally dangerous.

It was flagged after submission.

By the board.

Publicly.

Headlines appeared within hours:

> "Modern Misstep: Arjun Nair Group Project Faces Scrutiny for Violating Heritage Compliance.

The moment Arjun landed back in India, it was chaos.

Reporters outside his building.

Lawyers blowing up his phone.

Shareholders asking for explanations.

And Nayra?

She hadn’t even realized the error until Devika’s assistant pointed it out in a panic.

Her hands shook as she flipped through the submitted files.

The model had been misaligned during final export — a software glitch.

But the mistake… was still hers.

And then came the call.

---

Arjun’s voice was ice.

“Conference room. Now.”

When she stepped in, he was already there — coat off, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up like he’d just stepped out of war.

His eyes found hers immediately.

No warmth. No calculation.

Just cold, silent fury.

She opened her mouth, but—

“Sit,” he ordered.

She sat.

Arjun didn’t pace. Didn’t yell.

That would’ve been easier.

He walked slowly to the large screen behind her and tapped it.

The headlines. The designs. The red-marked files.

All of it.

“I trusted you,” he said at last. “I gave you something I never give anyone. Space. Freedom.”

"I—” she began, voice shaky, “I didn’t know the model was misaligned. I checked it. I swear, Arjun, I checked everything.”

“Then you didn’t check it well enough,” he snapped.

She flinched.

His voice wasn’t raised — but the cut of his words?

Brutal.

“You realize what this could cost us?” he continued, stepping closer. “We’re being investigated for heritage law violations, Nayra. That means we could be blacklisted. Fined. Delayed by months.”

“I’m sorry—”

“Sorry doesn’t fix public humiliation.”

Tears pricked her eyes. But she blinked them back.

“I’ll take responsibility. I’ll face the board. I’ll—”

“No,” he said sharply. “You won’t speak another word to the press. I’ll clean this mess.”

That cut deeper than his anger.

“You don’t trust me to fix what I broke?”

“I don’t trust you not to break something else trying,” he said coldly. “This is why I never let emotion lead business. Because it makes people reckless.”

Her breath caught. “Is that what you think I am? A reckless mistake?”

He didn’t answer.

And that silence was worse than any insult.

“Get out,” he finally said, turning back to the screen.

“I have a reputation to repair.”

Nayra stood — slow, shattered, silent.

And walked out.

Her steps echoed in the corridor.

And behind the closed door, Arjun pressed his fists into the table.

He wasn’t angry at just the error.

He was angry at himself.

--------

Huhhhh!! Business deals....it's sucks.

My whole search history filled up with business theories. And yeah I got some knowledge too!!

But only for next two chapters.

I don't understand this calculations!

Hope you like and share it

~yours

Mayurah