Chapter 30 The Rumor That Refused to Die

By Monday morning, something felt wrong.

Ananya noticed it almost immediately after entering the institute.

Not obvious hostility.

Worse.

The kind of atmosphere where conversations stopped half a second too late when she approached. Where people looked away too quickly afterward. Where whispers spread through corridors with enough confidence that nobody bothered hiding them properly anymore.

She hated how familiar the feeling was.

Rhea arrived beside her near the lecture hall entrance carrying iced coffee and visible irritation.

“You’re trending again.”

Ananya closed her eyes briefly.

“Wonderful.”

“No, actually terrible this time.”

That got her attention.

Rhea handed over her phone without another word.

A discussion thread filled the screen.

Anonymous social media posts.

Institute gossip pages.

Screenshots from private groups already spreading publicly.

At the center of all of it—

her.

And Arjun.

Someone had uploaded photos from the networking event and recent family gatherings, pairing them with captions implying Ananya deliberately rebuilt her image only after securing Arjun Rathore’s attention again.

Gold-digger.

Social climber.

Manipulative Omega.

Even worse—

the rumors now claimed her consulting opportunities came directly from Arjun’s influence rather than her presentation performance.

Ananya stared silently at the screen while something cold and exhausted settled through her chest.

Of course.

Of course the moment her success became visible, people searched for a man to credit instead.

Rhea looked furious enough to start a war personally.

“I already reported half these accounts.”

“It won’t matter.”

“No, but violence might.”

Despite herself, Ananya almost smiled faintly.

Almost.

Then she kept scrolling.

The comments worsened further down.

“She ignored him until she realized his value.”

“Omegas like her always act independent until money appears.”

“Poor Rathore. He doesn’t realize she’s using him.”

Ananya locked the phone quietly.

Not because the comments hurt individually.

Because they revealed exactly how fragile public respect remained for women like her.

One rumor.

One narrative.

And suddenly every achievement became suspicious again.

Rhea watched her carefully.

“Say something.”

Ananya adjusted the strap of her bag calmly before speaking.

“I’m tired.”

Not crying.

Not devastated.

Simply tired.

The exhaustion in her voice seemed to unsettle Rhea more than anger would have.

“This isn’t your fault.”

“I know.”

That was the difference now.

Once upon a time, she would have internalized every accusation instantly, searching desperately for what she should change to regain approval.

Now—

she recognized the cruelty properly.

Which somehow made it more infuriating instead of less painful.

As they entered the lecture hall, conversation shifted noticeably around them.

Several people looked away immediately.

Others didn’t bother.

Ananya kept walking without reacting outwardly.

Head high.

Composed.

But beneath the calm, something fragile inside her was beginning to wear thin.

—

By afternoon, the rumors had spread far beyond the institute.

Family group chats.

Professional circles.

Social gatherings.

Everyone suddenly seemed to possess opinions regarding her relationship with Arjun and the legitimacy of her accomplishments.

Nisha called first.

“You alright?”

Ananya leaned back heavily against her apartment couch, exhaustion pressing painfully behind her eyes.

“I’ve had better Mondays.”

“That bad?”

Ananya laughed softly without humor.

“I forgot how quickly society punishes women once they become too visible.”

Silence lingered briefly on the line.

Then Nisha sighed.

“You know the problem isn’t really your success.”

“Yes,” Ananya said quietly. “It’s that I stopped behaving modestly enough for people’s comfort.”

Because ambition in Omegas remained socially acceptable only when softened carefully by humility and emotional dependence.

Confidence alone still threatened people.

Especially when attached to visible male attention.

Nisha hesitated before asking carefully:

“Has Arjun seen the rumors yet?”

Ananya looked toward the rain beginning outside her apartment windows.

“Probably.”

And somehow that thought disturbed her most.

Not because she feared judgment from him.

Because part of her dreaded seeing disappointment in his eyes anyway despite everything.

Old fears died slowly.

—

She found out exactly how aware he already was less than an hour later.

Her phone rang while she stood in the kitchen mechanically making tea she had no intention of drinking.

Arjun.

Ananya stared at the screen several seconds before answering.

“Hello.”

“Where are you?”

The question came immediately.

No greeting.

His voice sounded controlled in a way she recognized instantly now.

Angry.

Real anger.

“At home.”

“I’m coming over.”

Her pulse tightened faintly.

“You don’t need to—”

“I know.”

The interruption came sharp enough to silence her instantly.

Then his tone softened slightly.

“But I want to.”

God.

Even now—

even exhausted and emotionally frayed—

those words still affected her too much.

Ananya closed her eyes briefly.

“Alright.”

—

Twenty minutes later, Arjun stood inside her apartment looking angrier than she had seen him yet.

Not explosive anger.

Cold anger.

The dangerous kind.

His phone remained clenched loosely in one hand while he scanned another set of messages across the screen.

“I had three people imply today that your consulting offers came through me,” he said flatly.

Ananya leaned against the kitchen counter quietly.

“They’re saying worse things elsewhere.”

“I know.”

The immediate answer startled her.

Arjun looked up then, jaw tight beneath visible restraint.

“I read all of it.”

Something inside her twisted painfully.

Not because she felt ashamed.

Because she hated that he had to witness this ugliness surrounding her now.

“It’ll pass eventually,” she said softly.

“No.”

The force inside the word surprised both of them slightly.

Arjun exhaled slowly afterward, visibly trying to regain composure.

“This doesn’t just disappear if ignored.”

Ananya studied him carefully.

“You’re taking this very personally.”

His gaze snapped toward her immediately.

“Because they’re attacking you.”

The simplicity of the answer made her chest ache.

For several moments silence stretched between them.

Then Arjun spoke again, quieter now.

“Did you believe any of it?”

The question startled her.

“What?”

“The comments.” His expression tightened faintly. “Did any part of you start wondering whether people were right?”

And suddenly—

horribly—

she realized the answer.

Not logically.

Emotionally.

Yes.

Not because she genuinely doubted her abilities.

Because years of conditioning taught her that public judgment eventually became truth if repeated often enough.

The silence gave her away immediately.

Something painful moved across Arjun’s expression.

“Ananya.”

She looked away.

“I know it sounds stupid.”

“No,” he said instantly. “It sounds like people have spent years convincing you your achievements only matter when attached to someone else.”

The accuracy hit like a blow.

Because yes.

Exactly that.

Arjun stepped closer slowly.

“Look at me.”

She hesitated.

Then obeyed.

His gaze held hers steadily.

“You earned every opportunity yourself.”

The certainty in his voice nearly shattered something inside her chest.

Because he sounded furious that she doubted it even slightly.

“You don’t understand,” she whispered. “When enough people say something repeatedly, eventually part of you starts hearing it in your own voice too.”

Silence.

Heavy.

Then Arjun did something unexpected.

He reached out carefully and took the phone from her hand before opening the gossip page still visible on-screen.

And without hesitation—

he deleted the entire application.

Ananya stared at him.

“What are you doing?”

“You don’t need to keep reading poison.”

The calmness in his voice made her throat tighten painfully.

Because no one had ever protected her gently before.

Not like this.

Not without making her feel weak for needing it.

Arjun set the phone aside afterward before looking back at her.

“They don’t get to decide who you are.”

The words landed somewhere dangerously deep inside her.

And suddenly she realized something terrifying.

The more cruel the world became toward her—

the safer she felt with him.

Which meant the line between love and dependence was beginning to blur again exactly the way she feared most.

As though sensing the direction of her thoughts, Arjun’s expression softened slightly.

“What are you thinking?”

Ananya looked at him quietly for several seconds.

Then answered with painful honesty.

“That I don’t know how to survive you being kind to me for this long.”

The vulnerability in the sentence visibly affected him.

For one suspended moment neither moved.

Neither looked away.

And suddenly the room felt too small for everything building between them now.

Then Arjun stepped closer.

Close enough that warmth surrounded her completely.

Close enough that one more step would become dangerous.

His gaze dropped briefly toward her mouth before lifting again.

And for the first time since her rebirth—

Ananya realized she wanted him to kiss her.

The realization terrified her instantly.