Chapter 10 - Upperhand

The next morning, Adhya strutted into Malhotra Enterprises with a mission.

If Reyan Malhotra thought she would crumble under pressure, he was dead wrong.

She had spent half the night researching every ongoing fashion collaboration and brainstorming ideas. If he wanted her to prove herself, she would—in style.

With a victorious smirk, she made her way to his office, knocking twice before stepping inside.

Reyan was behind his massive mahogany desk, dressed in another one of his perfectly tailored suits. Midnight blue today. His sleeves were rolled up just enough to reveal his strong forearms, and his tie was slightly loosened.

Messy, for once.

He barely looked up. "You're late."

Adhya frowned, checking the time. "It's literally 9:02 AM."

"Still late," he muttered, flipping through a file.

She rolled her eyes and dropped a thick folder onto his desk with a thud. "I stayed up researching our current fashion collaborations and market trends. Since you think I'm incompetent, I figured I'd prove you wrong."

He finally looked up, dark eyes assessing her with unreadable intensity. "Impressive."

Her lips parted slightly, surprised by the rare praise. "Wait, did you just—"

"Don't get used to it," he cut in smoothly, sliding another file toward her.

She narrowed her eyes at the thick dossier. "What's this?"

"You're assisting me on the Gucci collaboration. You'll be working on the initial design proposals."

Her heart skipped a beat. Gucci.

"Wait... seriously?" she asked, half-expecting him to smirk and say just kidding.

He leaned back, tapping his fingers against the desk. "Do I look like I joke?"

"No," she admitted. "You look like a man who hasn't laughed since birth."

A flicker of amusement crossed his face before disappearing. "You have two days. Impress me."

Adhya's excitement simmered, turning into pure determination. "I will."

She stood up to leave but paused, tilting her head. "Your tie is crooked."

He raised an eyebrow. "And?"

She bit back a smirk and slowly walked around his desk, stopping right in front of him.

His eyes darkened slightly as she leaned down, grasping his tie between her fingers.

"Relax, Mr. Malhotra," she whispered, straightening the fabric with slow, deliberate movements.

His breathing hitched just slightly, his jaw tightening as her fingers brushed against his chest.

Adhya felt a thrill of satisfaction. So, Mr. Ice King isn't completely unaffected, huh?

"You shouldn't do that," he muttered, voice lower than before.

She looked up, meeting his gaze—intense, dangerous, filled with something unspoken

"Why not?" she challenged softly.

A long pause. The air between them sizzled.

Then, suddenly, he grabbed her wrist—not harshly, but firmly—pulling her hands away from his tie.

But Adhya, always reckless, had other plans.

Instead of stepping back, she smirked and, in one swift motion, plopped herself onto his lap.

Reyan went rigid beneath her. His grip on her wrist tightened, his breathing slow and measured—like he was barely restraining himself.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked, his voice a dangerously low rasp.

She shrugged, feigning innocence, but her heart was pounding. "I figured I'd make myself comfortable while you decide whether to yell at me or not."

"Adhya." His tone held a warning.

But she leaned in slightly, tilting her head, her long hair brushing against his jaw. "What's the matter, Mr. Malhotra?" she teased. "Afraid of a little closeness?"

His jaw clenched, his hands twitching against the arms of his chair, as if he was physically holding himself back. "Get up."

She smiled. "Make me."

A muscle ticked in his jaw. For a second, she thought he might actually do it—grab her by the waist and throw her off.

But instead, he exhaled slowly, his dark eyes burning into hers. "You like playing with fire, don't you?"

She leaned closer, her lips a breath away from his ear. "Maybe I do