Love in Between

Rules and allies

Sanya nodded slowly, swallowing the lump rising in her throat. The weight of the contract felt heavier now, more real than ever. She glanced down at the folder, then back up at Xavier’s unreadable face.

“So, that’s it? I just… move in and become your assistant?” she asked, her voice barely hiding her disbelief.

Xavier leaned back, fingers steepled. “Yes. No distractions, no mistakes. You keep up, or you’re out.”

The sharpness in his tone made it clear he wasn’t joking.

Sanya squared her shoulders. “Fine. I’m not afraid of hard work.”

“Good.” His lips curled into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. “I like that.”

Before she could say more, the assistant returned with a small tablet. “Mr. Devaux, your driver is here.”

Xavier stood abruptly, the commanding presence filling the room once again. “Prepare yourself, Ms. Rao. Tomorrow marks the beginning of a very different life.”

Sanya took a deep breath, clenching the contract tighter. She wasn’t sure what she was getting into, but she knew one thing for sure —

there was no turning back.

That night, Sanya sat by the small bedside table, a faded photo of Aryan cradled gently in her hands. Her brother’s pale face, once full of life and laughter, now lay fragile in the hospital bed, hooked up to machines that beeped steadily—each sound a reminder of time slipping away.

The doctors had warned her: without urgent treatment, Aryan’s condition would only worsen. But the cost was more than she could ever afford on her own.

Her mother’s eyes were dry when she’d spoken earlier, exhaustion etched into every line of her face. “Sanya, you have to do whatever it takes. He’s all we have left.”

Tears welled up, but Sanya blinked them back. She had no choice. The deal with Xavier was harsh, but it was a lifeline.

Her mind raced with what-ifs, but she pushed them aside. She owed it to Aryan to be strong—no matter the cost.

As the room grew quiet and the city lights dimmed outside her window, Sanya whispered a silent promise. “I will save you, Aryan. Somehow.”

⸻

The next morning, Sanya stood by the front door, her small suitcase by her side, heart pounding in her chest. The sleek black car pulled up quietly, its tinted windows reflecting the pale dawn light.

The driver stepped out, nodding politely. “Ms. Rao? I’m here to take you to Mr. Devaux’s residence.”

Sanya swallowed her nerves and climbed into the back seat, clutching her bag tightly. The city blurred past as the car glided through traffic, the tension in her chest growing with each passing mile.

When the car pulled up to an imposing mansion, the driver opened the door for her, but there was no sign of Xavier.

Instead, a man with a warm smile and confident posture approached. He wore a sharp suit, and his eyes held a kindness that caught Sanya off guard.

“Ms. Rao, I’m Kael, Mr. Devaux’s secretary. Welcome.” His voice was calm and genuine.

Sanya blinked, caught off guard. “I… was expecting Mr. Devaux.”

Kael chuckled softly. “He’s a busy man. I’m here to help you settle in.”

He gestured toward a sleek security panel by the door. “Let me show you the house rules and security measures.”

As they walked, Kael explained the protocols — cameras in every room, restricted areas, the importance of confidentiality.

“Mr. Devaux is meticulous,” Kael said, eyes twinkling. “He likes order, punctuality, and no surprises.”

Sanya frowned. “Anything I should be careful about?”

Kael smiled, a knowing look crossing his face. “He dislikes laziness, gossip, and—strangely enough—people touching his vintage books without permission.”

Sanya couldn’t help but laugh quietly.

They paused near the living room where a grand piano sat silently.

“You’ll get used to it,” Kael said, softer now. “And if you ever need help, I’m here. Think of me as your guide in this… unique situation.”

Sanya felt a flicker of relief. Kael was kind, generous even—qualities that contrasted sharply with Xavier’s cold demeanor.

Still, her mind kept drifting back to the man she hadn’t met yet, and the rules she was bound to follow.

For now, she would lean on this unexpected ally.

Later that evening, Sanya stood alone in her new room—a minimalist space with floor-to-ceiling windows and polished hardwood floors. It was beautiful, sterile, and utterly unfamiliar.

She placed Aryan’s photo by the bedside again, anchoring herself to something real.

A soft chime echoed through the room.

She turned toward a wall panel now glowing with pale blue light. A message blinked across the screen:

Dinner will be served in the East Wing dining hall at 7:00 p.m. Attendance is mandatory.