Chapter 16: Unhealthy Obsession

"Get up," he stressed, raising his brows, and she stood up, gulping. She took a few steps back to create a safe distance between them and looked down. She was low-key afraid, which he could deduce by how tightly she was fisting her shirt and covering her chest as well.

He strolled towards his chair and grabbed his coat, which was hung on the back of it. He picked it up and walked towards her before moving behind her. As soon as he approached her back, she turned herself around, aware that the back of her shirt was torn and he would see it.

She looked at him anxiously. Her big doe eyes were full of fear. And her hushed breaths implicated her nervousness.

"You don’t want it?" he asked, and she looked towards his coat and then up at him. After a few moments, she gave him a small nod.

"Then?" He questioned, somewhat curious to know what's been going on in her mind.

"My shirt... it is torn," she replied, looking away, her heart beating a mile a minute. She had never been in such a situation. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears. Nervous. Anxious. And breathless. She was nothing but a mess in that moment and only wished to escape and for these moments to pass quickly.

He simply handed her his jacket, which she gratefully put on.

"What happened, Sheharzaad?" Her name sounded so different when uttered by him.

She raised her lashes and looked up at him.

"I was... working in the office. I was... and he came... and he..." her voice began to crack, but she needed to finish her sentence. She had to tell him the story from the beginning. He was the boss, and his decision would be final. It was necessary to gain his confidence.

"Then?" he raised his brow in a questioning manner, and she tried to compose herself. The incident was deeply engraved in her mind.

"Then he said he wants me. He... he said I called him and he said... I will not tell anyone about this. They will believe him and not me, and then... he tried to force himself on me when you came."

He just pressed his tongue against his cheek and gave a small nod.

"Come, I'll drop you home."

She suddenly became alarmed. "There is no need for that. I live far away. I don’t want to bother you."

"How far?" he asked.

"An hour's ride. Aap kiu puch rhai hein?" she asked, growing anxious. She couldn't trust him. Men would be men, after all. She would rather stay in the office the whole night than go with an unknown man. That’s why she wasn’t telling him her exact location, because he was also an unknown person, and telling him her home address was a big no.

("Why are you asking?")

"You don't live that far," he stated quietly, narrowing his eyes at her slightly.

Her mouth hung open with surprise. Her face showed a 'how do you know?' expression.

"I know my employees, Sheharzaad. Never lie to me again," he stated, addressing the lie she had told about her home address.

"Yes, sir," she nodded her head, looking down.

"Let's go. I'll drop you." He walked towards the door, only to notice that she wasn’t following him and was still rooted in her place.

He looked at her, his eyes demanding an explanation.

"Please, don't do anything to me," she pleaded, and he frowned. "Drop me home... safely. Please don't... don't touch me," she stuttered. The trauma had settled deep within her mind.

He smiled at her. A smile that didn’t reach his eyes, though she couldn’t see it due to the darkness in his office.

"I'll drop you," he assured her.

"Th... thank you," she replied with gratitude and followed him as they both reached his car and got in. She clung to the door.

No words were exchanged between them. The atmosphere was quiet, and he was focused on driving while she was nervous, stressed, and sad.

At last, they reached her house, and he stopped the car in front of the gate.

She immediately opened the door without looking at him to rush out of the car.

"Wait," he said, and she stopped.

"Yes, sir?"

"Tomorrow, I want you in my office with your phone—"

All the color drained from her face, thinking he would terminate her.

"Sir, please, I apologize. It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t do anything. He came to me. Please, sir, don’t fire me from this job. I really need it. He was lying when he said I called him. I didn’t. Sir, please, I’m sorry," she pleaded, her voice cracking.

His face remained stoic.

"I'll personally investigate this matter. Go get some rest and do as I say, Sheharzaad. Tomorrow, be in my office at sharp 9."

She nodded mindlessly and got out of the car before knocking on the door and entering her house. His eyes followed her retreating back, and unbeknownst to him, a small smile spread on his lips, only to disappear as quickly as it had come.

He started the engine and drove away.

But was that smile out of love? No. He didn’t believe in a thing called love.

Infatuation? Yes. His mind had developed a desire for her. He didn’t know when it had started brewing within him, but now he was aware of the craving he had for her.

He wanted her. In his bed. Beneath him. That smile represented the precious piece he wanted to have writhing under him. She had entered his twisted mind, and his dark thoughts had already begun formulating unspeakable things he wanted to do with her. Since he first laid eyes on her, she had drawn him in. And that attraction was lethal, making him want her more and more every time she came into his view.

For some odd reason, that girl was becoming an unhealthy obsession for him.