The city outside Aarush’s penthouse was unusually quiet, wrapped in a blanket of winter fog that blurred the lights and muted the life below. Normally, Aarush loved that silence—it gave him clarity, control, a clean boundary between work and everything else.
Tonight, it felt oppressive.
Too still.
Too revealing.
Noah sat on the edge of the large sofa, legs pulled up, hoodie drowning his tiny frame. He looked smaller than usual—nothing like the charismatic, camera-ready celebrity the world adored. His hair fell into his eyes, and his phone lay facedown beside him, as if even a single notification might shatter what little peace he had clung to all day.
Aarush watched him, a glass of water in hand, heart tight.
He’d seen Noah angry.
He’d seen him flirty.
He’d seen him confident.
But
