♡ Anvitha ♡
It was supposed to be a quiet evening. A rare slice of peace after the storm of whispers and wine-soaked smiles at yesterday's party. But of course, the peace I wanted was a mirage. Because the moment I spotted him in the hallway outside Devraj's study, leaning against the marble column like sin dressed in a three-piece suit, I knew calm wasn't on the menu tonight.
Ryan Raichand.
My jaw tightened on instinct.
He wasn't doing anything special - just scrolling through his phone like he hadn't thrown a dagger into my psyche the last time we met. Like he hadn't dropped a line that made my world tilt on its axis:
"By the way, Anvitha, did you take your pills this morning?"
I hadn't forgotten. Not for a second.
Now, here he was again. Perfect posture, that untouchable smirk tugging at his lips. And those goddamn eyes.
I walked toward him, slowly, heels tapping against the marble floor. A quiet war drum building beneath us.
He looked up, that lazy, languid gaze sliding over me like he had all the time in the world.
"Anvitha," he said smoothly. "Didn't expect you to approach me. Thought you preferred watching from afar."
"I don't stalk, Mr. Raichand. I interrogate."
"Do you now?" His smile widened. "Then by all means. Ask your questions, detective."
I took a breath, curling my fingers into fists behind my back.
"How did you know about the pills?"
He didn't answer right away. Just tilted his head, the light from the crystal chandelier catching the gold flecks in his eyes.
"I read. I observe. I connect the dots."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I'm giving."
I stepped closer. "Are you spying on me?"
He chuckled. "Would it bother you if I was?"
I leaned in slightly. "I think it would bother you more when I start doing the same."
His eyes flashed with amusement. "Touché. But do be careful, Anvitha. Some stones are best left unturned."
"Why? Afraid of what I might find? Or afraid I'll find you beneath them?"
That silenced him for a beat.
He glanced down at my hand. "Still wearing that rose-gold watch. The one Devraj gave you."
"What's your point?"
"Just interesting. The little things you keep. The things that remind you of who you think you are."
I bristled. "And who do you think I am?"
"That's the thing," he murmured, stepping close enough that our shadows fused on the marble floor. "I don't think you know yet. But you will. Eventually."
My blood simmered. "You talk in riddles, Ryan. Like you're auditioning for a part in a psychological thriller. Why not just say what you want to say?"
He looked amused. "Because where's the fun in that?"
I crossed my arms. "You're playing games with me."
He shrugged. "You approached me."
"Because you crossed a line."
"I only whispered what you've been thinking out loud."
My heart clenched. The bastard was right - I had been doubting things. My memories. My place in this family. The cold detachment I felt toward Avantika. The scars I couldn't explain.
"Why do you care?" I asked.
"I don't," he said softly. "But watching you unravel is... entertaining."
"You're a psychopath."
"Possibly." His smirk widened. "But an attractive one, I've been told."
"You know, I could have you investigated. Every call, every email, every text you've ever sent. You're not untouchable, Ryan."
He leaned forward, his breath brushing my cheek. "And yet here you are. Trying to touch the untouchable."
I stepped back, breathing sharp. "You want to test me, Raichand? Fine. But don't come crying when you lose."
"I never lose," he whispered.
"Maybe it's time someone taught you how."
He chuckled. "I'm looking forward to your lesson, Miss Ramaswamy."
I turned on my heel.
"By the way," he called after me, "you should be careful around Mihir. Loyal dogs have the sharpest teeth."
I didn't turn back. I didn't give him the satisfaction.
But inside?
I was spiraling.
Because the more he toyed with me, the more I was convinced of one thing:
Ryan Raichand knew everything.
And I wasn't sure if I wanted the truth... or to stay in the lie a little longer.
I should've known.
If loyal dogs have sharp teeth, that doesn't mean I let them bite me.
And Mihir? Mihir is a trained Rottweiler. Sharp. Brutal. Loyal only to Appa. And if he thinks his polished sarcasm and middle-finger-glasses-adjustment are enough to make me back down, he clearly doesn't know who the fuck he's dealing with.
He never answers directly. He speaks in riddles, cloaks truths behind layered sentences like he's writing a damn poetry collection. That tone of his? It's a quiet mockery, always two inches away from disrespect-but never enough for Appa to discipline him. He's protected. Untouchable.
But not by me.
I don't solve problems. I eliminate them before they grow teeth.
And Ryan Raichand? He's starting to bare fangs.
The moment I sat across from him, I knew. Something about that man feels... off. Polished on the outside, civil, even charming. But underneath that smooth voice and expensive suit? Something dangerous simmers-silent and waiting.
And worse?
He knows about me.
About the pills.
That one line he threw before leaving-"By the way, Anvitha, did you take your pills this morning?"-has been living under my skin ever since.
How?
Why?
Who the fuck even told him?
------------
Back in my room, I stood by the tall glass windows, the moonlight licking the floor at my feet. The lilies swayed in the garden-Avantika's favorite. So delicate. So short-lived. People admire them for their beauty, for the few days they bloom.
Me? I don't give a damn.
What's the use of something that dies after two days?
Tanishkha buys them for me sometimes when she visits. "Aren't they pretty?" she'll say with that soft smile, and I'll give a tight-lipped nod, wondering why she still believes in pretty things. She's a girly girl. Dreamy. Warm. I'm just... a girl.
A girl trying to survive a house full of secrets.
My phone vibrated on the glass table.
Raven.
The name alone tightened my spine. One of Appa's most loyal guards. The only one I could trust when it came to silent errands. I'd assigned him a simple task-follow Ryan Raichand. Dig. Uncover. Bring me every layer of dirt buried under that calm, smug exterior.
I unlocked the message.
One PDF. No message. Just a file.
Typical Raven.
I opened it, sitting slowly on the edge of my bed, heart drumming with curiosity and something darker.
---
Subject: RYAN VEER RAICHAND
DOB: December 18th
Age: 32
Height: 6'2
Blood Group: B+
Father: Jayveer Raichand - Founder of Raichand Global Industries (RGI), known for legal exports, suspected laundering.
Mother: Rose Raichand - Philanthropist. Never investigated.
Siblings:
- Arjun Raichand (older brother, works in real estate abroad)
- Riyana Raichand (younger sister, studing fashion designing. )
Home: Owns a penthouse in South Mumbai.
Often visits Raichand family estate.
Current Position:
- Director of Raichand Global's Strategic Affairs
- CEO & Founder of VIRYA - a luxury jewelry line launched last year. Clean record. Fast rise. Suspiciously fast.
Known Associates:
- Mihira Sethi - personal secretary. 28. Harvard graduate. Close. Possibly more.
- Nikhilesh Vyas - personal security. Ex-military. Unshakable loyalty.
Education:
- London School of Economics (BBA)
- Harvard (MBA)
Hobbies:
- Kickboxing
- Chess
- Collecting rare watches
- Writes poetry under pseudonym 'R.V.S.' (anonymous blogs traced through encrypted search)
My eyes stopped on one line and read it again:
> Writes poetry under pseudonym 'R.V.S.'
Poetry?
Are you fucking kidding me?
A man who looks at me like he's planning my destruction... writes poems?
The file continued, clinical and complete. Places he visits. Patterns. Employees. Financials. All neat. Too neat. Either Ryan has nothing to hide... or he hides it so well that even Raven couldn't pierce the surface.
Which makes him more dangerous than I thought.
I stared at the screen for minutes, then locked it and tossed the phone on the bed.
I was standing at the edge of something I didn't understand yet.
Ryan Raichand was not just a business partner.
He knew things he shouldn't.
He watched me too closely.
He left wounds in his wake just by speaking.
And the most dangerous part?
He enjoyed it.
I walked to the bathroom again. Not for another shower, but to stare at myself. Face-to-face with the girl in the mirror. My reflection stared back-black satin robe hugging my skin, damp hair framing a face that looked more haunted than curious.
I didn't know what I was more scared of: that Ryan was watching me... or that a part of me wanted to watch him back.
No.
Not scared.
Intrigued.
The most dangerous fucking emotion of all.
I picked up my phone again.
This time, I messaged Mihir.
Me: Need to talk. Urgent. Alone.
Because if Appa wouldn't answer my questions... Mihir would.
He had to.
And if he tried playing riddle-master again?
Then I'd remind him that even the sharpest dogs bleed when you aim right.

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