CHAPTER ELEVEN : ARYAN’S DILEMMA
The moment lingered in silence until she broke it, clearing her throat nervously. “By the way… I want tomorrow’s leave.”
Aryan straightened slightly. “Why?”
“I have to go to shoot for my portfolio tomorrow,” she said, excitement flickering in her tone.
“Where?” he asked.
“I don’t remember the proper location,” she admitted. She opened her phone and showed him. “This is the location.”
Aryan took the phone and checked carefully. The longer he read, the darker his expression became. His veins pulsed with irritation. He looked at her, disappointment clouding his face. His words sharp. “Are you really the same girl I saw on the first day?”
“Huh?” Priya’s eyes widened, confusion lacing her features.
I thought she was different… careful, responsible… but here she is, walking blindly into a scam because of cheap prices. Doesn’t she know how dangerous this world is? His frustration spilled into words.
“I mean,” he continued, his tone laced with disappointment, “I thought you did everything with care. But I never thought you were such a big idiot.”
The second he said it, a pang of guilt hit him. He noticed the way her shoulders drooped, how her eyes lowered in embarrassment. Damn it, Aryan. You didn’t have to call her that. But what do I do? If I don’t speak harshly, will she ever realize how unsafe this is?
Her heart sank instantly, the sting of his words sharper than she expected. “Why? What happened?” she asked weakly.
“Look at these locations properly,” Aryan snapped, his anger mixed with fear. “Do you think a professional shooting artist can exist in such an area?”
Her lips pressed together as shame flushed her cheeks. She stayed quiet, her silence only fueling his worry. What if she had gone there alone? What if something happened? No… I can’t let her take such stupid risks. She doesn’t even know how cruel people can be out there.
“Now don’t say you didn’t see this location,” he added coldly. “And that you applied only because its price is low. Is it?”
Priya’s throat felt dry. She couldn’t deny it. With her gaze fixed on the floor, she muttered, “You are right. The prices there were low… that’s why I applied there.”
Her soft confession confirmed it, and Aryan clenched his fist under the desk. She admits it so easily… doesn’t she understand she’s putting herself in danger?
The truth tasted bitter, and embarrassment made her chest heavy. She didn’t dare meet his eyes.
Aryan exhaled sharply, his irritation clear. “Ahh, this girl… Go back and sit at your desk.”
She hesitated, then asked softly, “But what about my leave?”
“I said go back,” Aryan replied firmly, his gaze stern.
Her eyes pricked, her voice faint as she whispered, “Fine.”
She turned and walked back slowly, her heart aching. More than losing the leave, it was his disappointed eyes that hurt her. ‘Why does it matter so much to me? Why does his anger feel heavier than any scolding I’ve ever received?’ she thought, swallowing the lump in her throat.
Aryan’s gaze followed her. Her small frame looked weighed down with disappointment. He turned away quickly, raking his hand through his hair. Why do I care so much? Why does the thought of her being in danger make my chest ache? She’s just my assistant… right? Then why does her hurt expression feel heavier than losing Albert’s damn deal?
She sat at her desk, staring blankly at her screen, but her mind was still replaying the way he had defended her in the footage… and the way he had called her an idiot.
After a long silence in the cabin, Aryan picked up his phone and dialed a number. His tone was clipped and professional at first, but Priya noticed a softness sneaking into it as he spoke with the person on the other side. She couldn’t hear much, only small parts of the conversation, but his voice carried authority—as though he was arranging something important.
When he hung up, he leaned back slightly, his expression unreadable. Then his voice broke the silence. “Come here…”
Priya hesitated for a moment, her fingers still brushing over the files on her desk. Slowly, she walked toward him, her steps careful, curious.
He slid a small slip of paper across the desk toward her. “Take this address and go there for your portfolio shoot.” His voice was calm, but there was a trace of determination, like he had already decided this was best for her.
She blinked in surprise, picking up the paper carefully. “Whose address is this?” Her tone carried a mix of suspicion and hope, unsure whether she should trust what he was offering.
“Just someone I know,” he replied simply, eyes already shifting back to the laptop screen. His words sounded casual, but inside, Aryan was tense. She doesn’t need to know how much effort I put into this. She just needs to be safe.
“And her amount?” Priya asked softly, still cautious.
“It’s free,” Aryan answered, his voice steady.
Her brows knitted together, and she leaned forward slightly. “Free?” she repeated, almost whispering in disbelief. In her world, nothing ever came free.
He finally glanced at her, his eyes intense. “Only for you.” The words slipped out more personal than he intended. For a second, his gaze held hers, heavy with something unsaid—something he quickly tried to bury under his usual coldness.
Priya’s heart skipped. She clutched the paper tighter. “But why?” she asked, her tone filled with innocent confusion.
Aryan’s jaw tightened. He didn’t want to explain, didn’t want her to question his reasons. Looking back at his laptop, he said firmly, “I already told you—if I say something, accept it without any question.” His voice was sharp, but beneath it was the echo of protectiveness he couldn’t put into words.
Priya sighed softly. “Fine,” she said, giving in, though her eyes lingered on him for a moment longer.
“Good,” Aryan muttered, his gaze still locked onto the laptop screen as though the conversation was over. But the slight curve of his lips betrayed his relief—she had agreed.
Priya hesitated again, then asked carefully, “By the way, at what time should I go?”
This time, Aryan’s eyes lifted to meet hers. His gaze softened, losing its edge. “Whenever you want,” he said, his voice carrying an odd gentleness he rarely showed.
Her lips curved into a small smile, almost shy. “Okay,” she murmured, and then turned, walking back toward her desk. She could still feel the weight of his gaze following her for a second before he forced himself back to his work.
Aryan leaned back slightly in his chair, tapping his pen against the table. She doesn’t know it yet, but I’ll never let her walk into danger again. Even if she thinks I’m being controlling, it doesn’t matter. I’ll protect her—even if I have to do it silently.
Aryan was buried in his files, his sharp eyes moving across the pages with focus. Just then, a chain of notifications started buzzing on his phone, one after the other, almost endlessly. He frowned, clearly irritated.
“Now who is…” he muttered, dragging the phone closer. But the moment his gaze landed on the sender’s name, his irritation deepened. “Dad… What did he send me?” he sighed, his voice carrying a mix of reluctance and resignation.
Before he could open the messages, the phone started ringing. His jaw tightened, but he answered.
“Yes, Dad?” His tone was short, guarded.
“Did you see?” Mr. Khanna’s voice came strong, filled with authority.
“What?” Aryan replied, feigning ignorance, his patience already wearing thin.
“The photos I sent you—did you forget what I told you last night?” His father’s stern reminder hit the exact nerve Aryan didn’t want touched.
Aryan leaned back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What did you say?” he asked, pretending not to remember, though his voice betrayed a trace of irritation.
“About the girls’ photos. And now—you have to choose one of the photos I sent you. To marry you.”
Aryan’s eyes darkened. He clenched his jaw so tightly it almost hurt. His voice, however, remained firm and controlled. “Dad, I’m very busy now. I’ll talk to you later.”
“But Aryan… listen—” his father tried to press further. But he ended the call.
“Ahh… what should I do with my Dad,” Aryan muttered, running his hand through his hair and tossing the phone onto the desk with a soft thud. His face looked tired—not from work, but from the constant pressure his family put on him. For a moment, the powerful, untouchable Aryan seemed just like any other son, trapped between duty and his own choices.
At her desk, Priya’s hands froze over the keyboard. She had been silently watching the whole time, her eyes following every change in his expression. The irritation at first, then the resignation, and finally that helpless anger when he ended the call.
‘He always looks so strong,’ she thought, her heart softening. ‘But right now… he doesn’t look like the Aryan Khanna everyone fears. He looks like a son, forced to obey… someone who doesn’t want to bend, but doesn’t want to break either.’
Her chest tightened slightly. She had seen his coldness, his anger, his authority. But this side—this tired, vulnerable side—was new. And it stirred something inside her she couldn’t name.
‘Maybe,’ she thought, lowering her gaze to her desk, ‘he isn’t as unfeeling as he pretends to be. Maybe… he’s fighting battles I don’t even know.’
Aryan, meanwhile, sat in silence, staring blankly at his files, though his mind was far from work.
Priya woke up earlier than usual that day, her heart fluttering with a strange mix of excitement and nervousness. Today wasn’t just another day—it was the start of something she had been dreaming about. She got ready quickly, carefully applying a light touch of makeup, adjusting her dress, and checking her reflection in the mirror more times than she could count. I hope I don’t look silly… she thought, grabbing her bag before heading out.
When she arrived at the address Aryan had given her, she paused for a moment. The place looked neat, professional, yet surprisingly warm. It wasn’t anything like the shady location she had almost chosen before. A wave of relief washed over her. Of course, Aryan wouldn’t send me somewhere unsafe.
She spotted an elderly woman waiting outside. Gathering her courage, Priya walked toward her with a polite smile. “Hello, I’m Riya,” she introduced herself, her voice carrying a soft nervousness.
The old lady studied her face for a moment, then broke into a gentle smile. “Hello dear, you’re Aryan’s friend, right?” she asked kindly.
Priya’s breath hitched for a second. Friend? The word echoed in her head, making her cheeks heat up. For a fleeting moment, she liked the sound of it—but reality struck. She lowered her gaze and corrected quickly, “Friend… No… No… I’m his assistant.” Her tone was careful, almost shy, as though she didn’t want the woman to misunderstand.
“Okay… okay… come,” the lady said warmly, waving her hand for Priya to follow.
Inside, the space was set up like a small studio. A simple backdrop, soft lighting, and a camera neatly placed on a tripod. The environment didn’t feel intimidating. Instead, it carried a sense of calm, thanks to the lady’s presence.
“Stand here, dear,” the woman guided, adjusting the angle of the light. “Don’t be nervous. Just be yourself. Aryan wouldn’t send me someone who isn’t special.”
Priya blinked, slightly taken aback. He… thinks I’m special? She wondered, her heart beating faster. Trying to steady herself, she nodded.
The shoot began. At first, her movements were stiff, her smile hesitant. She didn’t know where to place her hands or how to look at the camera. The lady chuckled softly and said, “Don’t worry. Think of something that makes you happy… maybe a moment, or someone.”
Instantly, Aryan’s face flashed in Priya’s mind—the way his deep eyes held hers that day, the way he stood up for her in the meeting room, and even the accidental closeness they had shared. Without realizing, a soft, natural smile spread across her face. The camera clicked, capturing her glow.
“That’s it, perfect,” the old lady said encouragingly.
With every click of the camera, Priya grew more confident. She posed with ease, sometimes playful, sometimes graceful. Her nervousness melted away, replaced by quiet determination.
When the first shoot was done, the lady showed her a few shots on the screen. “See? Beautiful. You’ll go far, dear.”
Priya’s eyes widened at the photos. Is this really me? She could hardly believe the confident girl in the pictures was herself. For the first time, she felt her dream might not be so far away.
Aryan and Karan were sitting in Aryan’s cabin, both of them leaning slightly over the table as they discussed some important work. The room was quiet except for the sound of papers shifting and the soft tapping on Aryan’s laptop. Suddenly, Aryan’s phone buzzed loudly on the table. He glanced at it once, frowned, and without a word, pushed it aside.
Within seconds, it rang again. This time a bit longer. Yet Aryan’s expression remained unreadable—cold and detached—as if he had already decided he wouldn’t answer.
Karan raised an eyebrow, watching him curiously. “Who is it?” he asked.
Aryan didn’t even lift his eyes from the file. His silence was enough to tell that he didn’t want to answer.
But just then, Karan’s own phone began to ring. The caller ID flashed Mr. Khanna. Karan quickly picked it up, his voice instantly soft and respectful.
“Hello uncle,” Karan greeted warmly.
“Hello my son, can you make me talk to Aryan?” Mr. Khanna’s voice carried a hint of irritation mixed with fatherly concern.
“Sure,” Karan replied politely.
“I have been calling him since a long time, but he is not picking up the call. Where is he?” Mr. Khanna asked, his tone sharp now, clearly displeased.
“In front of me,” Karan answered truthfully, glancing at Aryan, who was still avoiding the matter.
“Give him the phone,” Mr. Khanna demanded.
Karan sighed lightly, then held the phone toward Aryan. “It’s your dad,” he said softly.
Aryan hesitated for a moment, then finally took the phone with an indifferent look on his face. His tone was flat when he said, “Yes, dad?”
“Why weren’t you picking up my call?” Mr. Khanna asked firmly, his voice laced with frustration.
“I was busy,” Aryan replied curtly, keeping his tone clipped, as though he wanted the conversation to end quickly.
“Okay… okay…” Mr. Khanna sighed, softening his tone slightly before continuing. “Now tell me…”
Aryan leaned back in his chair, tiredly rubbing his temple. “What?” he asked, almost as if the question itself was a burden.
“Which girl did you choose for yourself?” Mr. Khanna asked directly, his voice filled with expectation.
Aryan’s lips curved into a dry, almost mocking smile. “No one. They are not my type,” he said bluntly.
There was silence on the line for a beat, then Mr. Khanna spoke again with determination. “Okay, so then we ourselves will choose the girl of our choice.”
Aryan’s expression darkened. His voice carried sharp sarcasm as he replied, “To waste my time like last time?”
“Means?” Mr. Khanna asked, slightly confused but also annoyed.
“If this one also runs away like the previous one, then my time will be wasted,” Aryan said coldly, the bitterness clear in his words. His tone reflected not just anger, but the disappointment he had buried inside.
“That’s why I am telling you,” Mr. Khanna countered firmly, “Choose a girl of your choice. Meet her, spend time with her, and then marry her.”
Aryan sighed heavily, running his fingers through his hair. His frustration was visible, but so was the pressure weighing on him. “Okay… okay… fine, dad,” he said finally, more to end the argument than out of agreement.
“Now choose any of these girls and tell me who she is, so that I can fix your date with her,” Mr. Khanna said, his voice softening into persuasion again.
“Fine,” Aryan muttered.
The phone slipped from his hand back onto the table with a soft thud. Aryan leaned back in his chair, his jaw tightening, his eyes hard. For a moment, he looked as though he was carrying a war inside—between his father’s wishes and his own reluctance. Karan watched him quietly, not daring to interfere, but he could sense the storm of emotions Aryan was holding back.
“What happened?” Karan asked curiously, leaning slightly forward, noticing Aryan’s irritated expression.
“Guess what could happen,” Aryan replied, his voice edged with frustration, as he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple.
“Again your marriage?” Karan guessed, half-smiling, already knowing the answer.
“Hmm…” Aryan sighed heavily, almost exhausted by the same repeated topic. “And this time he sent me pictures of girls and said that I have to choose one of them.” His tone carried both annoyance and helplessness.
“So what’s the problem? Choose one then,” Karan said casually, trying to lighten the situation.
Aryan grabbed his phone, scrolling through the pictures, and with sarcasm and irritation in his voice, he said, “Look at her, her eyes are so big, it looks dangerous… and this one, she’s so fatty… and this one, she looks like a Dumbo. I’m not body-shaming anyone, I’m just trying to tell you that they all are not perfect for me.” His tone was sharp, but beneath it, there was desperation—he wasn’t just rejecting them, he was searching for something meaningful.
Karan raised his brows, amused. “Then what is perfection in your language? Any example?”
Aryan froze for a moment, his lips parting slightly but no words coming out. His mind immediately conjured a single face, uninvited yet persistent—Priya. Her eyes, her determination, the way she carried herself—all of it filled his imagination. His silence was enough for Karan to notice.
“Leader… Tell me… Who is she?” Karan asked, curiosity and a teasing spark in his tone.
Aryan looked away quickly, as if caught off guard, but finally muttered, “Maybe someone like Riya. Beautiful, Intelligent, Hardworking, and Daring.” His voice softened unknowingly while describing her, betraying his inner thoughts.
“Why someone like Riya? Why not only Riya?” Karan pressed, leaning in with a knowing smile.
“Huh?” Aryan blinked at him, caught completely off guard by the directness of the question.
“Sorry for my words,” Karan said gently, “But I know that you have feelings for her.” His tone wasn’t mocking anymore, but filled with genuine concern.
Aryan shook his head quickly. “I only care for her, I have no feelings for her in my heart,” he said, his voice firm but his eyes uncertain, betraying the conflict within.
“But we care only for those we love,” Karan countered softly. “And I’ve seen the love for her in your eyes.”
Aryan clenched his jaw, looking down at his desk, avoiding Karan’s piercing gaze. “Whatever it is… but the truth is, I’m not sure about my feelings.” His tone carried honesty but also fear, fear of confronting his emotions.
Karan leaned back, sighing. “But she’s the only girl who can save you from your dad’s proposals.”
Aryan’s head snapped up, frustration flickering in his eyes. “So what do you want from me? That I will go to her and propose for marriage? Tell her that I have feelings for her, such feelings about which even I myself am not sure? And what if she rejects my proposal? I can’t take a risk. She is my employee, and I don’t want her to see me as her lover.” His words tumbled out fast, heavy with panic and confusion.
“Leader, calm down,” Karan said with a reassuring smile, raising his hand in a calming gesture.
Aryan stared at him, incredulous. “After putting me in so much confusion, you’re saying that I should calm down?” His voice was half angry, half helpless, yet tinged with irony.
Karan chuckled softly, trying to ease the tension. “Umm… I have another idea. By that, you don’t even have to propose to her, and you can marry her.”
Aryan narrowed his eyes. “And what is that?”
❁𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑❁
❀𝕴𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖎𝖙!❀
♡ 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎, 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎 ♡
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