"The heart has a strange habit of choosing the people the mind warns it against."
If someone had told Aprajita Sharma five years ago that one day she would fall in love with Rakshit Bharadwaj, she would have laughed without a second thought.
He was everything she disliked in a person.
Cold.
Reserved.
Unreachable.
A man whose silence could empty an entire conference room faster than raised voices ever could.
Employees feared disappointing him more than losing their jobs. He never shouted, never argued, and never believed in explaining himself. One look from him was enough to make executives question every decision they had ever made. In the corporate world, Rakshit Bharadwaj wasn't just respected-he was feared.
Aprajita was nothing like him.
Independent, practical, and straightforward, she believed every problem had a solution and every conversation deserved honesty. She wasn't intimidated by power or impressed by wealth. She spoke her mind, admitted her mistakes, and had never believed that love could exist without warmth.
Which was exactly why falling for Rakshit Bharadwaj made no sense.
She often searched for the answer herself.
It wasn't his success.
Money had never impressed her.
It wasn't his looks.
Good-looking men existed everywhere.
Then what was it?
Perhaps it was the certainty with which he lived. The discipline that never wavered. The way he carried responsibilities without expecting appreciation. The loneliness she sometimes caught in his eyes before it disappeared behind the familiar mask of indifference.
There were moments-rare, almost impossible to notice-when she felt the man everyone feared wasn't the real Rakshit Bharadwaj.
She remembered the evening they had both worked past midnight on a merger project. The office had emptied hours ago, yet he remained at his desk, completely absorbed in work. When she absent-mindedly rubbed her tired eyes, a cup of hot coffee appeared beside her laptop.
"I didn't order this," she had said.
Without looking up from his screen, he replied, "No one works efficiently with a headache."
That was it. No concern.
No smile.
No unnecessary conversation.
Just a simple observation before he returned to work as if nothing had happened.
It was such an insignificant moment.
Yet somehow, she never forgot it. Perhaps that was Rakshit Bharadwaj. He never expressed care. He simply did what needed to be done and walked away before anyone could mistake it for kindness.
Unfortunately, Aprajita had. Somewhere between his silence and her understanding, her heart had quietly chosen the one man who had never once looked at her as anything more than his most dependable employee.
---
At exactly nine o'clock, the glass entrance slid open.
The murmurs died instantly. Rakshit Bharadwaj stepped inside, dressed in a perfectly tailored charcoal-grey suit, his expression as unreadable as ever. His polished shoes echoed against the marble floor, each step steady and unhurried. He neither rushed nor slowed down for anyone. A few employees greeted him nervously. He acknowledged them with a slight nod before continuing towards the private elevator without a word.
No one found his silence rude anymore. It was simply who he was.
"Good morning, Mr. Bharadwaj."
He inclined his head once. That was enough.
Only after the elevator doors closed did the office finally breathe again.
The newest intern looked around in confusion. "Does he always have this effect on everyone?"
A senior executive let out a nervous chuckle. "You'll get used to it. Just make sure your work is perfect before it reaches his desk."
The elevator opened on the top floor, revealing a cabin as black and white as the man who occupied it. Every file sat neatly in its place, the blinds were adjusted at the same angle, and a cup of black coffee rested on the corner of his desk, prepared before he arrived. Rakshit placed his laptop bag aside, removed his blazer with practiced ease, and picked up the first file waiting for his approval.
Barely thirty seconds passed before he noticed a discrepancy.
A single figure in the financial projections had been entered incorrectly. It was a mistake most people would have overlooked.
He didn't.
Pressing the intercom, he said calmly, "Ask Mr. Mehta to come in."
His voice remained even, almost emotionless, yet everyone who worked under him knew that calmness was far more intimidating than anger.
Mr. Mehta entered moments later, already looking anxious.
Rakshit slid the file across the table without lifting his gaze. "The revised projections don't match the final estimate."
The manager quickly skimmed through the papers before his face turned pale. "I'm... sorry, sir. I must have overlooked it."
"You did."
There was no lecture. No raised voice. No humiliation.
Just two words. They carried enough weight for the manager to apologise twice before leaving the cabin.
Rakshit closed the file and reached for the next one.
Outside, Aprajita stood holding a blue folder against her chest. Unlike everyone else on the floor, there wasn't a trace of nervousness on her face. She knocked twice before opening the door slightly. "Sir, may I come in?"
For the first time that morning, Rakshit looked up from his work.
His expression remained composed, but there was a subtle softness in his unreadable eyes. "Come in, Aprajita."
She stepped inside, completely unaware that the employees outside had noticed something they rarely ever witnessed.
The CEO who barely remembered birthdays, office celebrations, or casual conversations had remembered the one person he trusted enough to call by her name.
-----
The office had finally settled into its usual rhythm after Rakshit Bharadwaj's return. Employees hurried between departments carrying files, phones rang continuously, and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingered through the corridors.
Aprajita walked towards her cabin, balancing a stack of files in one hand while scrolling through the day's schedule on her tablet. Before she could enter, Reshmi appeared in front of her with two paper cups of coffee. "I knew you'd skip breakfast again," she said, handing one over. Aprajita accepted it with an embarrassed smile. "I'll eat later," she replied, making Reshmi sigh dramatically. "You always say that."
Both entered the cabin together.
Unlike the other team's cabins, Aprajita's team cabin felt warm. A few indoor plants rested near the window, colourful sticky notes surrounded her monitor, and a tiny ceramic moon sat beside her keyboard, something she'd bought years ago because it reminded her of peaceful nights.
Her phone vibrated. She glanced at the reminder and immediately straightened.
9:30 AM - Mr. Bharadwaj's Board Meeting.
"I'll be back," she said, placing the coffee on her desk before picking up a file and walking out in a hurry.
Reshmi watched her leave and shook her head with a smile. "One day," she murmured to herself, "that man is going to realise half his life runs because of you."
---
Aprajita knocked gently before entering Rakshit's cabin. "The board members have arrived," she informed him softly, but Rakshit didn't even lift his eyes from the documents spread across his desk. "Five minutes," he replied, turning another page.
She nodded and was about to leave when her eyes fell on the cup of black coffee beside his laptop. The coffee had gone cold again.
Without saying anything, she walked towards his desk and picked it up.
Rakshit finally looked up. "What are you doing?" he asked, watching her carry the cup away.
"It went cold," she answered matter-of-factly.
"I'll drink it."
She looked at him for a brief moment before shaking her head. "You won't," she replied and quietly walked out, leaving him staring after her.
Five minutes later, she returned carrying another cup. She placed the freshly brewed coffee in the exact same spot and adjusted a few files lying nearby. Rakshit looked at the steaming cup before meeting her eyes. "You didn't have to," he said quietly.
"I know," she replied with a small smile before walking out as though it wasn't worth discussing.
---
The cafeteria buzzed with conversations as employees made the most of their lunch break. Aprajita had barely taken two bites of her paratha when the chair opposite her scraped against the floor. Looking up, she found Reshmi settling into the seat with her lunch tray, a suspiciously mischievous smile already playing on her lips.
"So..." she began, narrowing her eyes dramatically.
Aprajita raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"I just came from Finance."
"And?"
"They've officially confirmed it."
A frown settled on Aprajita's face as she set her sandwich down. "Confirmed what?"
Reshmi leaned across the table as though she was about to reveal the company's biggest secret. Lowering her voice, she whispered, "That the entire House of Bharadwaj knows you're hopelessly crushing our very own Mr. Rakshit Bharadwaj."
Aprajita nearly choked on her juice before glaring at her friend. "Oh, please."
"I'm serious," Reshmi insisted, folding her arms across her chest. "Tell me one person in this office who doesn't know."
"I.....," Aprajita replied dryly.
Reshmi burst into laughter.
Rolling her eyes, Aprajita picked up her paratha again. "It's not a crush."
Reshmi blinked dramatically. "Oh? Then what is it?"
"I don't do crushes," Aprajita answered matter-of-factly before taking another bite.
"You don't?" Reshmi repeated, clearly unconvinced.
Aprajita shook her head. "A crush is temporary. It fades after a few weeks."
Reshmi slowly smiled, as if she'd been waiting for exactly that answer. "So what you're saying is..."
Aprajita paused mid-bite and sighed, realising she'd unknowingly walked straight into her friend's trap.
Before she could change the subject, Reshmi grinned triumphantly. "Interesting... because I clearly remember someone covering all her college notebooks with pictures of Aditya Roy Kapur."
Aprajita froze. "That was different."
"Oh, was it?" Reshmi smirked. "The same girl who skipped lectures because his movie released on a Friday?"
"I did not skip lectures."
"You skipped practicals."
"It was only one practical."
"And who almost cried because she couldn't get tickets for Ok Jaanu?"
"I wasn't crying!" Aprajita protested, trying-and failing-to suppress her smile.
"You absolutely were."
"I was frustrated."
Reshmi laughed so loudly that a couple of employees at the next table turned around to look at them. Unbothered, she pointed her spoon at Aprajita. "You had the biggest crush on Aditya Roy Kapur."
Groaning in embarrassment, Aprajita hid behind her water bottle. "I was nineteen."
"And now?" Reshmi asked, her teasing tone softening.
Aprajita lowered the bottle and smiled faintly. "Now I'm twenty-nine."
The playful smile on Reshmi's face slowly disappeared. "So..." she asked quietly, "...this isn't a crush?"
Aprajita's gaze instinctively drifted through the cafeteria's glass wall towards the top floor, where Rakshit's cabin overlooked the city. A small, almost unnoticeable smile touched her lips as she stared at the closed blinds.
"No," she admitted after a long silence. "I think I left the 'crush' stage a long time ago."
Reshmi followed her line of sight before looking back at her friend. "You know he has absolutely no idea."
A soft laugh escaped Aprajita's lips. "I know."
"And you're okay with that?"
She slowly looked away from the window, the smile on her face carrying more acceptance than sadness. "I have to be."
"Why?"
"Because not every love story needs a confession." She paused for a moment, absentmindedly tracing the rim of her water bottle with her fingers. "Sometimes..." she said softly, "...loving someone quietly is enough."
Reshmi studied her for a long moment before shaking her head with an affectionate sigh. "You're either the bravest woman I've ever met... or the biggest fool."
Aprajita laughed quietly and shrugged. "Probably both."
Reshmi shook her head before taking a sip of her coffee. "You know what surprises me the most?" she asked, watching Aprajita curiously. "The great Rakshit Bharadwaj barely trusts anyone in this company... yet somehow, you've become the one person he relies on for almost everything."
Aprajita smiled faintly, brushing the comment aside. "That's because I work for him, Reshmi."
"Oh, stop it." Reshmi waved her hand dismissively. "He doesn't just assign you work. He trusts your judgment. If a meeting is rescheduled, he asks you. If a contract needs reviewing, it lands on your desk first. Half the board members have to wait outside his cabin, but you walk in without an appointment."
Aprajita looked down at her plate before answering. "Trust isn't given overnight. I've worked with him for five years and our parents are friends."
"Exactly," Reshmi replied. "And do you know why he trusts you?"
Aprajita looked at her questioningly.
"Because you've never lied to him." The words lingered between them. Reshmi continued, "Everyone else tells him what he wants to hear. You tell him what he needs to hear. Even if it means disagreeing with him."
A small smile appeared on Aprajita's lips. She knew her friend wasn't wrong.
Rakshit Bharadwaj valued many things-discipline, perfection, commitment-but above all, he valued honesty. He could tolerate mistakes because they could be corrected. What he couldn't tolerate was deception.
Over the years, he had come to rely on her more than anyone else in the company. If she said a report was ready, he signed it without reading every page. If she assured him a meeting was under control, he never questioned it. He didn't trust easily, but once he did, he never looked back.
Sometimes, Aprajita wondered if that was the cruelest part of loving him.
He trusted her with his company, his schedule, and the decisions that carried the weight of House of Bharadwaj. But he had never once imagined trusting her with his heart.
Next day,
Rakshit had just loosened his tie when a knock echoed through the quiet cabin.
"Come in," he said, picking up a file from his desk.
The door opened, and Aravind Bharadwaj walked inside. Though dressed in his usual expensive suit, age and illness had begun to steal the commanding aura he once carried. His steps were slower, but the quiet dignity in his eyes remained untouched-the same dignity that had built House of Bharadwaj into what it was today.
Rakshit immediately stood up and walked towards him. Gently holding his father's arm, he frowned. "You should've called me, Dad. I would've come downstairs."
Aravind smiled as he patted his son's hand. "I wanted to see my son in his kingdom."
Shaking his head with helpless affection, Rakshit guided him to the sofa. "You shouldn't be climbing stairs."
Settling down comfortably, Aravind looked at him with amusement. "I'm not as fragile as you think."
Rakshit didn't argue. He silently poured a glass of water and handed it to him before taking the seat opposite.
For the next few moments, neither of them spoke.
Aravind slowly looked around the spacious cabin. His eyes paused on the company logo before finally settling on Rakshit. A proud smile appeared on his face. "You've made this company everything I dream it would become."
Rakshit gave a small, polite smile and rested his elbows on his knees. "There's still a long way to go."
"There always will be," Aravind replied with a knowing smile.
Silence settled between them once again, comfortable yet heavy.
After a long sigh, Aravind looked straight at his son. "When are you going to stop avoiding the question?"
Rakshit already knew which question his father meant. Leaning back against the sofa, he rubbed his forehead tiredly. "We've had this conversation before."
"And we'll keep having it," Aravind said firmly, holding his gaze, "until you give me a different answer."
Rakshit looked away towards the glass window overlooking the city. "I need time."
A tired chuckle escaped Aravind's lips. He slowly shook his head. "You've been asking for time for the last three years." His smile faded, and his voice grew softer. "I don't have that luxury anymore, Rakshit."
The words settled heavily between them. Rakshit's jaw clenched, and after a brief silence, he deliberately changed the subject. "How was chemotherapy yesterday?"
Aravind noticed the diversion instantly. Looking at him with quiet disappointment, he sighed. "You always do this."
Rakshit met his eyes without flinching. "I'm asking about your health."
"And I'm asking about your life," Aravind replied just as calmly.
Neither answered the other. The silence that followed felt louder than any argument.
After what seemed like forever, Aravind spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. "The doctors have told me enough to know I shouldn't postpone the important conversations."
Rakshit lowered his gaze and closed his eyes for a brief moment before nodding. "I know."
"No..." Aravind gently corrected him, his eyes filled with helplessness. "You know I'm ill. You still refuse to accept that I may not have much time left."
The room fell into complete silence. Rakshit didn't respond. His fingers tightened around the glass in his hand until his knuckles turned white.
Watching him, Aravind's expression softened even further. "I don't want to leave this world wondering whether you'll spend the rest of your life alone."
Rakshit remained expressionless, refusing to let the emotions rising inside him show on his face.
After a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice low and controlled. "I said I need time."
Aravind looked at him-not with frustration, but with the sadness only a father could carry. "Time," he said quietly, offering a faint, bittersweet smile, "isn't always ours to ask for, son."
💛
Aravind had barely stepped out of the CEO's floor when he noticed a familiar figure walking towards the elevator, a stack of files balanced carefully in her arms.
The moment Aprajita saw him, her face brightened. "Uncle!" she called, quickening her steps. Shifting the files to one hand, she bent down and gently touched his feet before looking up at him with a warm smile.
Aravind placed his hand over her head affectionately. "Kush raho, beta."
Straightening up, Aprajita studied his face carefully, her smile slowly fading into concern. "How are you?" she asked softly. "Dad told me you had chemotherapy yesterday."
"I'm doing much better than your father makes it sound," Aravind replied with a reassuring smile.
She folded her arms, unconvinced. "You've lost weight."
Aravind chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "And you've become a doctor overnight?"
"I don't need a medical degree to notice that," she shot back, narrowing her eyes at him.
A soft laugh escaped him. "You're just like your father. Both of you think I'm made of glass."
"I think you're terrible at taking care of yourself," she muttered, making him laugh even harder.
"Look who's talking," he said knowingly, his smile turning teasing. "Have you had lunch?"
For the briefest moment, Aprajita avoided his eyes. "I have."
"Liar."
She let out a defeated sigh before smiling sheepishly. "I was about to."
"I've known you since you were six, Appu," Aravind said, shaking his head with amusement. "You still make the same face whenever you lie."
Caught red-handed, she scratched the back of her neck and smiled innocently. "Fine... I'll eat."
"You'd better."
She nodded obediently before tilting her head. "Did Rakshit sir trouble you today?"
A smile tugged at Aravind's lips as he noticed she still addressed his son with the same professionalism after all these years.
"He never troubles me."
"He troubles everyone else," she complained with a dramatic sigh.
"He only expects people to do their jobs," Aravind defended calmly.
"He expects perfection," she corrected with a small laugh, rolling her eyes. "Sometimes I think even the computers are scared of him."
That made Aravind laugh genuinely. "And yet," he said once his laughter settled, "you've managed to survive under him for five years."
Aprajita grinned proudly. "I've learnt the secret."
"Oh?" Aravind leaned forward with curiosity. "And what's that?"
She lowered her voice as though sharing a company secret. "I don't argue unless I'm absolutely sure I'm right."
Another hearty laugh escaped him. "You know," he said after a moment, looking at her thoughtfully, "your father keeps telling me you are the only one who keeps him in track."
Aprajita's eyes widened in horror before she laughed. "Please don't tell him. Mr. Bharadwaj would have my resignation letter ready before I even reached the parking lot."
"I doubt that."
She blinked, confused. "Really?"
Aravind looked at her for a long moment before speaking quietly. "Rakshit trusts very few people."
She nodded slowly. "I know."
"And you are one among them."
For a fraction of a second, her heart skipped. She wasn't expecting those words.
Before her surprise could reach her face, she tucked it away behind her usual professional smile. "I've only done my job, Uncle."
Aravind continued looking at her silently. There was something remarkably sincere about the young woman standing before him. Honest. Capable. Grounded. The kind of person who never asked for recognition but earned it anyway.
A thought crossed his mind.
If only that stubborn son of mine could see what I see...
The corner of his lips lifted before he quietly pushed the thought aside. Breaking the silence, he smiled warmly. "Go have your lunch."
"I will," Aprajita replied immediately.
"And tell your father I'll visit him this weekend."
"I'll let him know." Giving him one last respectful smile, she adjusted the files in her arms and walked towards the cafeteria.
Aravind stood there for a few moments, watching her disappear into the corridor.
A faint smile slowly spread across his face. For the first time in weeks, an idea quietly began to take shape in his mind.
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