"Don't you remember anything from last night?" he asked, looking at me like I was supposed to.
I rubbed my temples. My head was pounding, my mouth was dry, and my dress was still crumpled like a poorly wrapped momo. "Wait… what happened?"
Ethan smirked — not a normal smirk, the annoying, rich, know-it-all smirk. "You sure you want to know?"
I panicked. Was it worse than last time? Did I dance on tables again? Did I confess something stupid? Did I—
"Ugly robot," I mumbled under my breath and got off the bed like it was on fire.
"I'll take that as a no," he said from behind as I nearly tripped putting on my heels.
I didn't wait. I bolted. Whatever happened last night, I wasn't mentally prepared to deal with it. Yet.
Back at work, Ethan was... silent. No teasing, no sarcasm, no extra commands. I thought he'd say something. About the event. About the files. About me possibly being an embarrassing disaster again. But nope. Just robotic instructions and death stares.
Classic Ethan.
Two days passed like that. I buried myself in work, trying not to think about anything — not even the weird tension in the air or the fact that I apparently survived another scandal. Then came the drama. Turns out, the person who switched the presentation got caught. Full office chaos mode. People gossiping louder than typing. Some defended the guy, some were just happy it wasn't them. Ethan didn't say a word to me about it though. Like nothing happened.
Which, honestly, was worse.
I had just stepped out of the cafeteria when chaos exploded.
Someone threw a mouse—an actual mouse—on someone.
People were frozen in confusion. Employees scrambled to stop the fight before it turned into something uglier.
"It wasn't me, it was Roshni who switched the presentation! Come say it, tell the truth! My career, my family… my life is at stake!!!" the accused guy yelled, his voice breaking with panic.
It turned out he was the only one caught using my computer—the one that had the final presentation file. So, naturally, he became the perfect scapegoat.
Roshni stood there like a statue. Blank face. Nothing to say.
But her boyfriend didn't take it as calmly—he lunged at the accused, fists clenched.
People tried to stop them. It didn't work.
The accused looked genuinely shaken, his voice cracking as he spoke.
"Ma'am, I don't even know you but that day the pendrive was given by Roshni and she told me to save it in your computer, she said you asked her and as she was running late she can't do it…trust me I don't know any of this!!!"
For a moment, everything froze.
People stopped mid-fight, mid-gossip, even the guy with the mouse in his hand looked confused now.
All eyes were on me.
Me.
I swallowed hard. My brain was sprinting but my body felt stuck in wet cement.
I didn't know him. I barely knew Roshni. And yet my computer—my system—had been the smoking gun.
"I…" I opened my mouth to speak but no words came out. What was I supposed to say?
I looked at him. His eyes were red, not just from anger but fear. The kind that crawls into your bones when you know everything could fall apart.
I couldn't lie.
I couldn't protect someone.
And I couldn't accuse someone either—not without proof.
So I did the only thing I could.
"Stop." My voice cut through the noise like a whip. "This is not the place to scream accusations or fight. We're in an office, not a courtroom."
I turned to the two men who had been seconds away from throwing punches.
"Both of you. HR. Now."
They hesitated for a second before shuffling away with security, muttering curses under their breath.
People began to disperse, murmuring, throwing me sympathetic looks—or worse—curious ones. I hated both.
I turned back to the accused guy. "What's your name?"
"Rahul," he said. "I—I just joined last month."
"Okay, Rahul. For now, write down everything that happened that day—every detail. Who said what, where, what time. Send it to HR. And… thank you for coming forward."
He blinked, surprised I hadn't yelled at him. "I swear, I didn't—"
"I believe you're scared. That's enough for now."
He nodded and walked away.
And then it hit me.
Through all of this—the chaos, the accusations, the near fist-fights—Ethan hadn't said a single word.
Not during the switch-up. Not during the fight. Not when I was standing there, holding a crumbling situation together.
I saw him across the hallway. He was watching. His arms were folded, his expression unreadable.
When our eyes met, he didn't flinch. He didn't nod. He didn't move.
He just… turned around and walked back into his office.
Like none of this mattered.
Like I didn't matter… though he might know the fact that someone used my computer to almost sabotage the company.
I stood there for another full minute, staring at the door Ethan had disappeared behind.
Then I moved.
My legs felt like lead, but I didn't stop until I was at his door. I knocked once—firmly—and didn't wait for permission. I pushed it open.
He looked up from his desk, calm as ever. That unreadable CEO face of his—perfectly composed.
Like chaos hadn't just exploded down the hallway.
Like he hadn't just seen me dragged into it.
"Sana." He said my name like a formality. "I assume the situation outside is being handled."
I stared at him. "That's all you have to say?"
He blinked. "Should I say more?"
My fists clenched at my sides. "Two days ago, the entire presentation got switched. I got blamed. Again. And now today, half the office is screaming, throwing mice and punches, and somehow I'm the one in the middle of it. You saw what just happened, Ethan. You heard what that guy said."
"I did," he replied coolly, leaning back in his chair. "You handled it well."
"That's not the point," I snapped. "You didn't say anything. You didn't even ask me if I was okay."
Silence stretched between us like a rubber band pulled too tight.
He didn't flinch, but his jaw tightened just a bit. "Would you have preferred I yelled? Chosen a side without proof? That would've helped you?"
I blinked. "No—but I would've preferred something. A nod. A check-in. A sign that I wasn't just… disposable."
That last word slipped out before I could catch it.
He stood now, slowly, walking toward me with measured steps. His eyes were dark and tired, but sharp.
"You're not disposable," he said quietly. "You're the only one who didn't fall apart today."
I swallowed. "Then why does it feel like I'm the only one who had to hold everything together?"
He looked at me for a long second. Then said, almost too softly:
"Because sometimes the strongest person in the room doesn't get a break."
His words settled into the room like fog.
I looked away, suddenly too aware of the ache building in my chest. "You know… it wouldn't kill you to say, 'I've got your back.'"
He paused. I felt his gaze linger on me before he stepped back, his voice clipped again.
"HR will run a full inquiry. Until then, stay away from Roshni. Don't talk to her, don't accuse her. Let them dig."
I nodded stiffly, left the room.
Ping.
Waiting for you in the café. — Noah.
I stared at the message for a few seconds, still holding my laptop like it could shield me from the world. I didn't want to talk to anyone, but… Noah had this way of showing up exactly when I needed someone.
And honestly?
I needed a break. A real one. Not scrolling in the bathroom stall pretending I didn't exist.
So I went.
The café inside the office building was half-empty, dimly lit with fake vines hanging from the ceiling. Noah was already there—legs stretched out, hair slightly messy, sipping something iced and unnecessary at 4 PM.
"Look who finally decided to grace me with her presence," he smirked as I sat down.
I rolled my eyes. "I was working."
"I was waiting. Huge difference. I even saved the good seat for you. The one that hides you from the gossip aunties at table three."
I laughed softly despite everything. He always knew how to read the room—or me.
He leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Okay, but seriously—office today? Wild. Roshni showed up like she didn't almost start a civil war, Rahul looks like he aged ten years overnight, and Ethan's face is more unreadable than your handwriting."
"Wow," I said, lifting my cup, "look at you. Full-time gossip channel, part-time comic relief."
"And yet you keep tuning in." He winked.
I shook my head with a smile, taking a slow sip of my coffee, trying—just for a second—to let the warmth cut through the dread building in my chest.
But then I froze.
My hand instinctively reached up to my collarbone.
Bare.
My pendant.
I hadn't had it this whole time.
I blinked, panic slowly rising. "Noah…"
He immediately sat straighter. "What? What happened?"
"My pendant," I whispered. "The silver one. With the turquoise stone. It's gone."
He looked confused for a second. "The one you always wear?"
I nodded quickly, my voice starting to tremble. "It's not expensive. But it—it was my mom's. My dad gave it to her when they got married. After she died, it was the only thing I… I wore it every day. I never take it off."
He leaned in closer, suddenly serious. "Sana. Hey. Breathe."
"I checked everywhere. I tore up my room this morning. I even looked in the fridge."
He chuckled softly. "Okay, that's a little concerning."
"I was desperate."
Noah's voice softened. "When did you last see it?"
"I… don't know. That's the thing. Everything's been happening so fast—presentation drama, the fake expense thing, that anonymous message…" I shook my head. "I didn't even realize it was gone."
He reached across the table and gently touched my hand.
"We'll find it. Okay? I'll help. If we have to search every inch of that godforsaken office, I'm in."
My eyes met his. And for a second, all the noise faded.
"You didn't have to say that," I whispered.
"I did," he said quietly. "Because you're not alone in this, Sana."
Then his lips quirked up. "Also, if this turns into a romantic mystery scavenger hunt, I demand a dramatic slow-motion montage."
I laughed again, despite the lump in my throat.
Noah leaned back, tilting his head. "I like when you smile. You don't do it enough lately."
"That's because people keep trying to ruin my life."
"Yeah, well… good thing I'm on Team Sana."
For the first time in a while, I felt like I wasn't falling apart.
Noah's phone buzzed. He frowned, checked it, and stood.
"I'll be back soon, okay? We'll start the great pendant hunt when I return."
That evening, my phone wouldn't stop buzzing.
There it was. A photo.
Grainy. Flash-heavy. Zoomed in.
Ethan kissing a girl. Her face not entirely visible.
People were losing their minds.
"NeThan" was trending.
Neha didn't deny it. She smiled in an interview when someone asked. Just smiled. As if that wasn't enough to send the whole internet into a meltdown.
I didn't think too much about it at first. I had enough on my plate.
But then, during a late-night drive—me driving Ethan home, on call with Noah—I sighed and said, "I still can't find my pendant. I swear it vanished."
Ethan, without looking up from his phone, said, "You might've left it at my place."
I slammed the brakes harder than I needed to. "What?"
He finally looked at me. "The pendant. It was in my living room. Didn't know it was yours till now."
As we reached his building, he got out, paused like he remembered something, then handed it to me.
"You can take it as a warning. I don't want to see you drinking again — not while you work for me."
I blinked. "Why are you saying this all of a sudden?"
He pointed to the pendant. "It matters to you. Maybe think twice next time."
And then he walked away.
That's when it hit me. Hard.
The pendant.
His house.
The photo.
The kiss.
Everyone thought it was Neha in the photo.
But what if it wasn't?
I kissed Ethan.
I kissed my boss.
And the whole country thinks it's someone else.
And he never said a word.
I wasn't even thinking about liking him. I was thinking—
Why didn't he fire me?
Was he pretending it didn't happen?
Was he trying to protect Neha?
Was this another scandal I just caused?
Did he hate me?
My mind spiraled, loud and fast. My body moved on autopilot.
I didn't even notice I was walking into the middle of the road.
A flash of headlights.
A horn.
A scream.
And then — nothing.