Chapter Eleven
951 Words
Ryan's POV
She looked like a dream walking out of the bedroom.
The kind that doesn’t just linger in your sleep—but haunts your days, crawls under your skin, and refuses to let go.
Aanya.
Wearing the dress he had chosen.
Lavender.
Soft, like her voice. Delicate, like the way she sometimes tucked her hair behind her ear when she was nervous. Confident, like the fire he’d seen in her when she stood up to him despite the way her knees trembled.
His breath caught. Not just because she was beautiful—but because she was his choice. He’d imagined how she’d look in that dress the moment he bought it, but nothing compared to reality. The way the fabric hugged her curves modestly yet gracefully, how the shade kissed her dusky skin, the way her eyes sparkled with hesitation, her lips parted in a half-smile.
“Beautiful,” he whispered before he could stop himself.
She froze for a second.
Then smiled. Slightly.
And just like that—he forgot every reason he was supposed to stay away.
He turned away from her gaze, clearing his throat. “You should eat more. You’ve barely touched your strawberries.”
“I’m full,” she replied, sliding the empty bowl aside. “Your soup was good... I’ll give you that.”
His lips quirked. “Only good?”
She shrugged. “Fine. Great. Incredible. Whatever adjective you prefer.”
He leaned his elbows on the counter, watching her with a smirk. “You’re hard to please.”
“You’re used to people being too easy.”
Her voice wasn’t harsh—just honest. And that’s what struck him.
That was the thing about Aanya.
She wasn’t afraid to look at the devil and call him out. Even when her hands shook. Even when her eyes betrayed the smallest flicker of fear. She still stood her ground.
And that terrified him more than any weapon ever had.
Because she made him feel human.
Too human.
Too vulnerable.
“You’re not wrong,” he said quietly.
She blinked at that. Caught off guard.
“I usually am,” she said, half-smiling.
“You’re not like them.”
She raised a brow. “Them?”
He nodded toward the world beyond the windows. “The ones who want something from me. Status. Power. Wealth. Safety.”
She tilted her head. “And what do I want?”
He stared at her.
“That’s what scares me. I don’t know.”
They stood there in silence for a beat too long. The tension between them wasn’t sharp—it was thick. Like molasses. Like gravity. Pulling them closer, second by second.
And then, of course, she had to ruin it.
With a tantrum.
“I’m paying for the dress, by the way,” she said, arms crossed, staring him down like a warrior facing a king.
Ryan blinked.
Then laughed.
“You’re what?”
“You heard me.”
“I thought we already had this conversation—”
“No. You glared, and I didn’t want to start a war in your penthouse. But now I’m sober. And in this dress. And I’m paying for it.”
He leaned closer, amused. “And how exactly do you plan on doing that?”
“I’ll transfer it to your assistant. Gabe.”
“I’ll fire him before I let that happen.”
Her jaw dropped. “You wouldn’t!”
“I’ve done worse for less.”
She growled. Actually growled.
And damn if it wasn’t the most adorable thing he’d ever seen.
“Ryan Williamson, you are the most—”
“Charming?”
“Annoying.”
“Dangerous?”
“Arrogant.”
He chuckled again. “Say what you want, Aanya. You’re still wearing my shirt underneath, aren’t you?”
Her silence was answer enough.
And he didn’t miss the blush that crept to her cheeks.
But then something shifted.
As he watched her glance away, a strand of her hair slipped over her face. It moved with the soft breeze coming through the open balcony door, teasing her skin.
His control slipped. Just enough to make him act before thinking.
He walked toward her.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Her eyes widened slightly with every step.
One.
Two.
Three.
Until there was barely a breath of space between them.
His hand lifted, brushing the strand of hair gently behind her ear. His fingers lingered just a second longer, trailing the curve of her jaw.
Soft. Silky.
Her breath hitched.
His voice was barely a whisper, meant only for her.
“You look dangerous in lavender.”
Her lips parted.
He continued, low and intimate, “You walk into my life, into my space... and now you’re under my roof, in my clothes, stealing my breath with every look. Tell me, Aanya—how the hell am I supposed to keep my distance?”
Her lashes fluttered.
His hand fell away, clenched at his side, trying to resist what every nerve in his body screamed for.
To kiss her.
To pull her close and never let go.
But then—she moved.
And what she did next wasn’t what he expected.
Not even close.
Something that made Ryan stiffen, his breath lodged in his throat.
His eyes widened—genuinely shocked. A reaction he hadn’t felt in years.
He stared at her, unmoving.
And she? She only smiled softly, almost innocently.
But he knew better.
Nothing about this girl was innocent.
Not anymore.
Not after that.
"Author's Announcement"
Check out my new book Beyond Arrows and Crowns
This book is a Mythological Book where you will learn about different aspects of life....
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