Chapter 20 The Girl He Could No Longer Ignore

Arjun could not stop thinking about her.

The realization irritated him at first.

Not because he disliked Ananya.

Quite the opposite.

That was precisely the problem.

For most of his life, emotional clarity had come easily to him. He understood distance. Understood restraint. Understood how to separate temporary attraction from meaningful attachment before either became complicated enough to disrupt the structure of his life.

People often mistook his composure for emotional coldness.

In reality, he simply disliked losing control of himself unnecessarily.

Then Ananya changed.

Or perhaps—

he finally began seeing her properly.

And now she occupied his thoughts at inconvenient hours with alarming consistency.

During meetings.

While driving.

Halfway through conversations with other people.

The worst part was that nothing dramatic triggered it.

Not grand romantic moments.

Small things.

The way she paused before answering difficult questions, as though carefully deciding how much truth another person deserved.

The exhaustion hidden beneath her calmness.

The strange sadness that occasionally surfaced in her eyes whenever conversations drifted too close to trust or emotional dependence.

And recently—

her laughter.

That soft, startled laugh inside the car had remained with him far longer than it should have.

Arjun leaned back slightly in his office chair, fingers resting motionless against the untouched cup of coffee beside him.

Across the desk, his younger cousin Kabir narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“You’ve been staring at the same document for ten minutes.”

“I’m reading.”

“No, you’re haunting it.”

Arjun looked up flatly. “Why are you here?”

“To confirm a theory.”

“I regret asking.”

Kabir grinned shamelessly before dropping into the chair opposite him. Unlike most people around Arjun, Kabir lacked both intimidation and excessive admiration, which made him unusually irritating and occasionally useful.

“So,” Kabir said casually, “how’s the terrifying Omega who rejected you publicly?”

Arjun’s gaze sharpened instantly.

“Who told you about that?”

“Please. Half the family talks about nothing else lately.”

That sounded unfortunately believable.

Kabir leaned forward slightly. “You like her.”

It was not phrased as a question.

Arjun should have denied it immediately.

Instead, silence stretched just long enough to become answer enough on its own.

Kabir blinked once in genuine surprise.

“Oh,” he said slowly. “That serious?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t need to.”

Arjun exhaled quietly, irritation sharpening beneath his composure now.

“This conversation is over.”

“Not remotely.”

Kabir studied him with growing fascination. “You’ve never looked this distracted over anyone before.”

“That’s dramatic.”

“No,” Kabir replied. “You know what’s dramatic? The fact that you voluntarily waited outside her institute for twenty minutes last Friday.”

Arjun went completely still.

“How do you know about that?”

“You told me you were nearby when I called.” Kabir looked deeply entertained now. “Then I heard traffic in the background and realized you weren’t moving.”

Silence.

Kabir stared at him in disbelief.

“You actually waited.”

“I wasn’t busy.”

“You could’ve gone inside.”

“She dislikes being pressured.”

The answer escaped too naturally.

Kabir sat back slowly, expression shifting from amusement into genuine realization.

“You’re paying attention.”

Arjun looked away briefly toward the office windows overlooking the city below.

Yes.

Far too much attention.

That was becoming impossible to deny now.

—

Meanwhile, Ananya remained completely unaware of the conversation happening elsewhere across the city.

Which was probably for the best.

Because she was already struggling enough with her own emotions.

The following week brought another family gathering she could not reasonably avoid—this time hosted by distant relatives visiting from Jaipur. Unlike previous events, however, tonight carried additional tension beneath the surface from the moment she arrived.

People were watching her differently again.

Not critically.

Carefully.

And somewhere beneath that attention lingered growing curiosity regarding the Rathores.

Ananya recognized the atmosphere immediately and disliked it instantly.

During dinner, conversation moved predictably toward marriage discussions within the younger generation. Several relatives exchanged updates regarding engagements, potential matches, and future arrangements while the older women discussed compatibility with practiced expertise.

Ananya focused quietly on her food, avoiding unnecessary participation.

It didn’t work.

One of her aunts eventually turned toward her with deliberate casualness.

“And what about you, Ananya? I heard things became… complicated recently.”

The table quieted subtly.

Not enough to appear obvious.

Enough.

Ananya set down her glass calmly before answering.

“They became clear.”

Several people exchanged brief glances.

Her aunt smiled tightly. “Still, you’re fortunate everything seems to have resolved peacefully.”

There it was.

The implication beneath the politeness.

Fortunate the Alpha still paid attention afterward.

Fortunate society had softened again.

Fortunate her rejection had not cost her value permanently.

Something cold moved quietly through Ananya’s chest.

Before she could answer, another relative added carefully, “Arjun Rathore appears very understanding.”

The words sounded complimentary.

Yet beneath them lingered the assumption she had begun hating more each day:

that her social standing still depended entirely upon male approval.

Ananya opened her mouth—

Then stopped.

Because suddenly, she felt exhausted.

Exhausted of performing diplomacy around ideas that fundamentally insulted her existence.

She looked directly at the women seated across from her and said quietly:

“My life is not a favor someone decided to spare.”

Silence.

Complete silence.

Several people froze visibly.

Her mother inhaled sharply beside her.

But Ananya continued calmly before anyone could interrupt.

“If someone respects me, that’s appreciated,” she said evenly. “But my worth does not increase or decrease based on whether an Alpha continues choosing me publicly.”

The words landed like glass breaking softly across the table.

No shouting.

No anger.

Only truth spoken too directly for comfort.

One older relative recovered first, forcing a strained smile.

“You misunderstand—”

“No,” Ananya interrupted gently. “I understand perfectly.”

Silence again.

Heavy this time.

Across the table, her father watched her with an expression she could not fully read. Not anger exactly.

Recognition perhaps.

As though he was finally beginning to understand how deeply these conversations had affected her all along.

The rest of dinner passed awkwardly afterward.

No one raised the subject again.

But the atmosphere never fully recovered.

—

Later that night, unable to tolerate the suffocating politeness inside the house any longer, Ananya stepped outside onto the terrace alone.

The city stretched endlessly beyond the neighborhood walls, glowing beneath warm midnight haze and scattered lights. Somewhere far away, music drifted faintly upward from another celebration entirely unrelated to hers.

Her phone vibrated.

Arjun: You survived tonight?

Ananya stared at the message in disbelief.

Then typed back immediately.

How did you know there was an event tonight?

The reply came seconds later.

Your mother mentioned it to mine.

Of course she had.

Ananya leaned lightly against the terrace railing before replying again.

Then yes. Barely survived.

A pause.

Then:

What happened?

She considered ignoring the question.

Instead, perhaps because exhaustion weakened her restraint tonight, she answered honestly.

People keep speaking as though my value depends on whether you continue acknowledging me.

This time the response took longer.

When it came, the message was shorter than expected.

That would make me angry too.

Something about the simplicity of the answer affected her unexpectedly.

No forced reassurance.

No denial.

Just understanding.

The honesty loosened something tight inside her chest.

Before she could stop herself, she typed:

I said something unpleasant at dinner.

Another pause.

Then:

Did they deserve it?

Ananya laughed softly under her breath despite herself.

Yes.

Good.

The warmth spreading through her chest afterward felt alarmingly natural.

She looked down at the screen for several moments before typing more slowly this time.

You’re very calm about all this.

The reply came almost immediately.

No. I’m calm with you.

Her breath caught sharply.

For several seconds, the city noise below seemed to disappear completely.

The message remained glowing against the screen in her hand.

Simple.

Direct.

Dangerous.

Ananya stared at it far longer than necessary before finally lowering the phone slowly against her chest.

And somewhere deep inside her—

another carefully guarded wall cracked quietly apart.