A Night of Unforeseen Consequences

The night had settled into a tense silence. The confrontation, the shattered vial, and the suffocating gas had shaken Arya more than she cared to admit. As she sat in her apartment, nursing a cup of tea, her mind replayed the evening's events on an endless loop.

Rohan had called twice to check on her, but she had let the calls go unanswered. She needed time to think, to process. The woman's venomous words echoed in her mind:

"You've ruined everything! I was supposed to be his choice."

What had she meant? What kind of twisted game was this?

Before she could spiral further into her thoughts, a sharp knock on her door made her jump. Her heart pounded. It was late—too late for visitors.

She hesitated, then slowly approached the door.

"Arya, open up."

She froze. The voice was unmistakable. Deep, composed, yet carrying a weight of something unspoken.

Mr. Veer.

Taking a steadying breath, she unlocked the door and pulled it open. He stood in the dim hallway, his presence overwhelming even in the shadows. He wasn't wearing his usual mask, and for a fleeting second, Arya found herself staring.

He was...unexpectedly striking. Sharp angles, piercing eyes, a face that was both familiar and yet utterly foreign without the usual barrier between them.

"May I come in?" he asked, his voice quieter than she had ever heard it.

Arya stepped aside wordlessly, still processing the surreal nature of his visit.

Once inside, he took a moment to survey her small apartment. It was modest—nothing compared to the grandeur of his estate—but it was warm, filled with personal touches. Books stacked on a small wooden shelf, half-finished sketches on the table, a cozy blanket draped over the couch.

"You live alone?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes."

He said nothing, but she could tell he was taking in every detail, as if trying to understand her world.

Finally, he turned to face her fully. "I came to apologize."

Arya blinked. Of all the things she had expected him to say, an apology wasn't one of them.

"For what?" she asked cautiously.

"For doubting you," he admitted. "For allowing those ridiculous accusations to go unchallenged. For..." He exhaled sharply. "For letting you walk out that night with the weight of humiliation on your shoulders."

Arya swallowed. She hadn't expected him to acknowledge any of it.

She crossed her arms, trying to maintain some semblance of control in this conversation. "Why now?"

He met her gaze without hesitation. "Because I saw the truth tonight. I saw how that woman targeted you. How you risked yourself to protect Rohan. And I realized—I was wrong about you."

A lump formed in Arya's throat.

She wanted to be angry, to remind him how much his words and silence had hurt her. But looking into his eyes now, she saw something she hadn't before.

Regret.

Genuine, unguarded regret.

She sighed. "It's not just about the accusations, you know. It's about the way you looked at me, as if I was nothing more than a threat. As if I didn't deserve the benefit of the doubt."

He nodded, his jaw tightening. "I know. And that was my mistake."

A heavy silence stretched between them.

Then, after a moment, he said, "I want to make it right."

Arya frowned. "How?"

He hesitated, as if he himself wasn't sure of the answer. Then, finally, he said, "By protecting you."

She blinked. "Protecting me?"

"The woman from tonight—she's not working alone. I have enemies, Arya. And now, you've been dragged into this mess because of me."

Arya's pulse quickened. She had suspected as much, but hearing it confirmed sent a chill down her spine.

"I don't need your protection," she said firmly.

"You do," he countered. "And whether you accept it or not, I'm not going to let you face this alone."

Arya bit her lip. There was no arrogance in his tone, no condescension. Just cold, hard certainty.

"And what does your protection involve?" she asked, skeptical.

He hesitated before answering. "For now, staying somewhere safer."

Arya's eyebrows shot up. "You're not seriously suggesting—"

"I am," he interrupted. "The Veer estate is heavily guarded. No one can reach you there."

She let out a hollow laugh. "So your solution is to lock me up in your house like some sort of captive?"

His lips twitched, almost as if he found her resistance amusing. "Not a captive. A guest."

Arya scoffed. "A guest who has no choice but to stay?"

He exhaled. "I won't force you, Arya. But understand this—whoever targeted me tonight will come after you. If they think you're important to me, they'll use you."

Arya's breath caught at his words. Important to me.

She shook her head. "I can take care of myself."

He studied her for a long moment. "I don't doubt that," he said. "But I'd rather not find out what happens if you're wrong."

Arya clenched her fists, conflicted. She hated feeling like she needed help. Hated the idea of being swept into Mr. Veer's world any further. But deep down, she knew he was right.

After a long silence, she sighed. "Fine," she muttered. "But only for a few days."

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "Understood."

The ride back to the Veer estate was quiet. Arya sat in the back of Mr. Veer's sleek black car, staring out at the city lights blurring past.

She had no idea what she was stepping into, but one thing was clear—this was no longer just about rumors and misunderstandings.

This was something bigger. Something dangerous.

And for better or worse, she was now entangled in Mr. Veer's world.

As they arrived at the estate, Arya couldn't shake the feeling that her life was about to change forever.

And she wasn't sure she was ready for it.