Chapter 22 The First Time He Chose Her Publicly

The rumors stopped being subtle after that.

Until now, most of the speculation surrounding Ananya and Arjun had remained confined to private conversations and social whispers carefully disguised as harmless curiosity. People discussed them over dinners, during shopping trips, inside family gatherings where judgment always traveled beneath polite smiles.

But recently, the tone had shifted.

The story had become entertaining.

And once society found entertainment in a woman’s personal life, boundaries disappeared quickly.

Ananya realized just how far things had spread during a networking event hosted by the institute near the end of the month.

The gathering itself was important enough that attendance was practically mandatory. Professionals from multiple companies had been invited to review presentations from selected students, creating opportunities for internships, future placements, and industry connections. For most people in the program, tonight represented possibility.

For Ananya, it represented exhaustion before it had even begun.

The hotel ballroom hosting the event buzzed with conversation and movement beneath warm lighting and polished décor. Groups formed and dissolved constantly across the room while servers moved quietly between tables carrying drinks and appetizers no one seemed interested in eating properly.

Ananya stood near one of the display booths reviewing final notes for her presentation, trying to focus on work instead of the growing awareness that several people had already recognized her.

Not because of her performance.

Because of Arjun.

The realization irritated her immediately.

“You look one inconvenience away from murder,” Rhea muttered beside her.

“I’m trying to behave professionally.”

“That bad, then.”

Ananya exhaled slowly.

Two women from another institute division had glanced toward her three separate times within the last ten minutes. One of them smiled when their eyes briefly met—not kindly, but knowingly.

She hated that expression.

The assumption hidden inside it.

As though everything surrounding her recently revolved around male attention instead of her own choices and achievements.

Before she could respond, another voice entered smoothly from behind them.

“Well, this explains why people are suddenly taking attendance so seriously tonight.”

Ananya turned.

Vikram Sethi smiled easily as he approached, dressed sharply enough to attract attention without seeming as though he tried intentionally. Alpha. Confident. Socially skilled. The kind of man who understood rooms instinctively.

He had spoken to her several times over the past month during project collaborations involving external groups. Friendly. Intelligent. Slightly flirtatious in a way subtle enough to remain socially acceptable.

Rhea noticed immediately and stepped backward with suspiciously convenient timing.

“I suddenly remembered I have responsibilities elsewhere,” she announced.

Traitor.

Ananya watched her disappear into the crowd before looking back at Vikram.

“You seem very entertained tonight.”

“I’m curious,” he admitted openly. “You’ve become unexpectedly famous.”

There it was again.

Famous.

As though her emotional life were public property now.

Ananya’s expression cooled slightly. “I was hoping my presentation would receive more attention than gossip.”

Vikram studied her briefly before his tone softened.

“For what it’s worth, most people here are more interested in your work than rumors.”

“That would be comforting if it were true.”

“It is true.”

The certainty in his voice surprised her enough that she looked at him properly for the first time that evening.

Unlike most people recently, Vikram’s attention carried remarkably little curiosity about her connection to Arjun. If anything, he seemed more interested in her reactions than the surrounding drama itself.

“You really dislike this,” he observed quietly.

“Yes.”

“Fair.”

For a moment, the conversation settled into something unexpectedly easy.

Then someone nearby laughed loudly enough for several surrounding groups to glance over briefly.

“Come on,” a male voice said carelessly. “You can’t tell me she isn’t enjoying the attention now. Rejecting Rathore practically made her a celebrity.”

Several people chuckled.

Ananya froze.

Not because the comment itself shocked her.

Because exhaustion hit suddenly and deeply all at once.

She was tired.

Tired of being discussed.

Tired of being interpreted.

Tired of every achievement, every appearance, every interaction being filtered through the framework of her relationship with a man.

Beside her, Vikram’s expression darkened immediately.

“That’s enough,” he said sharply toward the group.

The laughter quieted slightly, though one of the men shrugged casually.

“What? Everyone’s thinking it.”

“No,” Vikram replied coldly. “Just people with no manners.”

The tension shifted instantly.

Several nearby conversations faltered as attention subtly turned toward the confrontation beginning near the center of the room.

Ananya felt heat crawl uncomfortably beneath her skin.

Wonderful.

Exactly what she wanted.

Public spectacle.

Before she could intervene, another voice entered calmly from behind the crowd.

“He’s right.”

Silence spread almost immediately.

Ananya turned sharply.

Arjun stood several feet away near the entrance of the ballroom, gaze fixed steadily on the group responsible for the comment. He wore dark formal clothing that sharpened the natural restraint already present in his posture, making his expression appear colder than usual beneath the warm lighting around them.

The man who had spoken earlier visibly stiffened.

No one seemed entirely certain how long Arjun had been standing there.

Long enough, apparently.

“She earned her place here herself,” Arjun continued evenly. “Reducing her work to gossip says more about you than it does about her.”

The room went painfully quiet.

Because this—

this was different from private support.

This was public.

Direct.

Intentional.

The man attempted a nervous laugh. “I didn’t mean anything serious by it.”

“That doesn’t improve it.”

Arjun’s tone never rose.

It didn’t need to.

Ananya stared at him silently while something dangerously complicated tightened inside her chest.

Because he had done exactly what people like him usually avoided.

He had chosen a side publicly.

For several unbearable seconds, no one spoke.

Then the conversation around the ballroom slowly resumed again, though quieter now, the atmosphere subtly altered beneath the surface.

The group dispersed quickly afterward.

Vikram glanced between Ananya and Arjun once before giving her a small nod.

“I’ll let you handle the rest of your admirers alone.”

Despite everything, the comment almost made her smile faintly.

Almost.

After he left, Arjun approached her fully.

“You alright?”

The question undid something inside her immediately.

Not because of concern itself.

Because he asked privately after defending her publicly, as though her feelings mattered more than the impression created by the confrontation.

Dangerous.

Again.

“I’m fine,” she answered softly.

Arjun studied her face carefully enough that she knew he didn’t entirely believe her.

“You shouldn’t have had to listen to that.”

“It happens constantly now.”

Something shifted subtly in his expression at the quiet exhaustion beneath her voice.

Anger.

Real anger this time.

“You say that like you’re used to it.”

“I am.”

The honesty lingered heavily between them.

For a moment, Arjun looked as though he wanted to say something sharper, harsher, perhaps directed toward society itself.

Instead he exhaled slowly and asked, “Have you presented yet?”

“No. In another twenty minutes.”

“Good.”

Ananya blinked slightly. “Good?”

“Yes.” His gaze remained steady on hers. “Now everyone here will remember your presentation instead.”

The confidence in his voice startled her.

Not empty encouragement.

Belief.

Simple and unwavering.

And somehow that affected her more than the public defense itself had.

For the first time all evening, some of the tension inside her loosened slightly.

Arjun seemed to notice immediately.

“Better,” he murmured almost absently.

Her pulse stumbled unexpectedly.

The familiarity in that single word felt far too intimate.

Before she could respond, one of the event coordinators approached hurriedly to announce that presentations would begin shortly.

Ananya gathered her notes automatically, though her fingers felt strangely unsteady now.

As the coordinator moved away again, Arjun spoke quietly beside her.

“Ananya.”

She looked up.

His gaze held hers fully.

“Make them remember you for the right reasons.”

Something warm and terrifying moved through her chest all at once.

Because suddenly—

more than society’s judgment,

more than gossip,

more than reputation—

she found herself wanting him to be proud of her.