Chapter 18

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Shattered Trust: A Dance with Demons

(Niharika)

It had been two days since my dad was discharged from the hospital, but he hadn't said a word to me other than official matters. He warned me to be cautious around Mr. Aryan, yet he kept the details of their bitter past hidden from me. I attempted to inquire, but he evaded my questions. After work, I went to my dad's home to update him on today's office matters. The cost-cutting ideas proposed by Mr. Aryan had proven effective over the past few months, significantly increasing the hotel's monthly profit. Many board members were impressed by his efficiency, but my dad didn't share the same sentiment. Every time I mentioned Mr. Aryan's name, my dad clenched his teeth with obvious resentment.

Lost in these thoughts, I stepped out of the elevator and headed towards my room. As I reached my door and rummaged through my bag for the keys, the door of the apartment opposite mine swung open, revealing a familiar face. I sighed in annoyance. Could this situation get any worse? Mr. Arrogant Aryan stood right in front of me, as if the universe was playing a cruel joke on me.

"What are you doing here? Are you here to see me?" he asked, his voice dripping with amusement.

Oh, what does he think of himself? "And what makes you think I'm here to see you?" I retorted, forcing a fake smile.

"Well, you're standing in front of my apartment, so isn't it obvious that you're here to see me?" he mocked, wearing a smirk.

I scoffed. "Well then, let me enlighten you, Mr. Self-Absorbed. I've been living in this apartment for the past two years. It's only natural that I come here every day because, well, I live here. But why are you here? In the same apartment building? Were you stalking me?" I raised an eyebrow, challenging him.

He chuckled. "So, for your information, Ms. Creative Head, I've been living here for the past two months. And no, I'm not stalking you. I just found out that you live here." He moved closer, emanating heat that sent shivers down my spine. My breath caught in my throat.

"Don't flatter yourself," he tapped my nose playfully, then stepped back. "Anyway, it's nice to know that you're living here. I'll throw you a housewarming party soon. Now, I have to go out for dinner. See you tomorrow, dear," he said with a mischievous smirk and entered the elevator.

Did he just call me dear? Seriously?!! A small smile crept onto my lips. Why does it make me so happy? There's something about him that inexplicably draws me in. Lost in thought, I finally retrieved the key from my bag and opened my apartment door.

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A week had passed since my father's discharge, and against everyone's advice, he insisted on coming to the office. We pleaded with him to rest, but he was adamant. The doctor allowed him to work for a few hours and undergo physiotherapy sessions, but he still needed to rest. The doctor mentioned that being in an environment he enjoyed might have positive effects on his condition. Although he could move his fingers on his left arm, his left leg remained paralyzed. So we wheeled him into the hotel in a wheelchair.

As we stepped out of the elevator, his secretary was reading his schedule for the day, while I pushed his wheelchair towards his office. However, upon reaching Mr. Aryan's office, my father abruptly signaled us to stop and requested to be taken inside. Confused, his secretary and I exchanged glances, but my father interrupted before I could speak.

"Do as I said," he commanded, raising his good hand to halt me. I reluctantly nodded in agreement.

I turned his wheelchair towards Mr. Aryan's office, and his secretary knocked on the door. We heard a voice granting permission to enter.

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