The morning after the dinner, Zenith Global buzzed with whispers. The boardroom clash had already made waves, but now, the sight of Dev and Thripthi leaving together the previous evening had added fuel to speculation.

Thripthi walked through the corridors with her usual poise, but she could feel the eyes on her. Assistants paused mid-conversation, managers exchanged glances. She ignored them, her heels clicking against the polished floor, and entered Dev’s office with neatly prepared files.

Dev was already at his desk, reviewing documents with his usual intensity. He didn’t look up immediately, but the moment she closed the door, his voice broke the silence.

Dev (without looking up): “You’re late.”

Thripthi (raising a brow, amused): “By three minutes. That’s hardly late.”

Dev (finally glancing at her): “Three minutes is enough to lose a deal.”

Thripthi (smiling faintly): “Or enough to win one, if you use them wisely.”

She placed the files on his desk, her movements calm, deliberate.

Thripthi: “The Orion Tech numbers are holding steady. I’ve prepared projections for the next quarter.”

Dev (studying her, tone clipped): “Good. Sit.”

She sat across from him, crossing her legs, her gaze steady.

Thripthi (lightly teasing): “You look like you didn’t sleep.”

Dev (dryly): “I don’t waste time on sleep.”

Thripthi (leaning forward): “Or maybe you couldn’t. Maybe you were thinking.”

Dev (eyes narrowing): “About what?”

Thripthi (smiling mischievously): “About………..”

For a moment, his composure faltered. He leaned back, exhaling slowly.

Dev: “You’re too confident.”

Thripthi (softly, but firm): “Confidence isn’t arrogance. It’s survival.”

Dev (after a pause, voice low): “Survival in Zenith requires silence, not boldness.”

Thripthi (meeting his gaze): “Then maybe Zenith needs to change.”

The silence stretched, charged with tension. Dev’s jaw tightened, but his eyes betrayed something else — curiosity, conflict, and a flicker of admiration he didn’t want to admit.

Dev (finally): “You’re dangerous, Thripthi.”

Thripthi (smiling faintly): “Dangerous? Or necessary?”

Scene 1: The Office Stir

Later that morning, a group of executives gathered near the coffee machine.

Executive 1 (whispering): “She’s not just his assistant anymore.”

Executive 2: “She spoke in the boardroom. Boldly. And he defended her.”

Executive 3: “Dangerous. If she rises too fast, the board will question his judgment.”

Thripthi overheard fragments as she passed, but she didn’t flinch. She had learned long ago that whispers were just shadows — and shadows disappeared in the light.

Scene 2: The Private Conversation

By afternoon, Dev summoned her into his office. The door closed, shutting out the hum of Zenith.

Dev: “You’ve become the subject of whispers.”

Thripthi (smiling faintly): “Whispers don’t scare me.”

Dev (leaning forward): “They should. Power attracts attention. Attention attracts enemies.”

Thripthi (softly, but firm): “And allies. Don’t forget allies.”

Dev studied her, his jaw tight, his eyes conflicted.

Dev: “You think you can handle this?”

Thripthi (meeting his gaze): “I don’t think. I know.”

Dev (after a pause): “You’re reckless.”

Thripthi (smiling mischievously): “Or fearless. Depends on how you look at it.”

Dev (dryly): “Fearless people often end up broken.”

Thripthi (leaning forward): “And guarded people end up alone.”

The silence stretched, charged with something neither wanted to name.

Scene 3: The Unexpected Gesture

That evening, as Thripthi prepared to leave, Dev appeared at her desk again.

Dev: “I’ll drop you home.”

Thripthi (surprised): “Twice in two days? You’re breaking your own rules.”

Dev (quietly): “Maybe some rules deserve to be broken.”

The drive was quieter this time. The city lights flickered against the windshield, casting shadows across his face. Thripthi studied him, realizing that beneath the steel was a man who was learning to bend.

Thripthi (softly): “You don’t usually do this, do you?”

Dev (eyes on the road): “Do what?”

Thripthi: “Drive someone home. Break routine.”

Dev (after a pause): “No. I don’t.”

Thripthi (smiling faintly): “Then why now?”

Dev (glancing at her, voice low): “Because silence is heavier when you’re not there.”

Her breath caught. She turned toward the window, hiding the flicker of emotion in her eyes.

Scene 4: At Her Doorstep

The car slowed in front of her apartment. For a moment, neither moved.

Thripthi (softly): “Thank you… for tonight.”

Dev (steady, almost reluctant): “It won’t be the last.”

Thripthi (teasing, but gentle): “Careful, Dev. Promises are dangerous.”

Dev (quietly): “So are you.”

She stepped out, her heels clicking against the pavement, but the weight of his words followed her up the stairs.

Scene 5: Dev Alone

Dev lingered in the car, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel. He wasn’t used to this — the vulnerability, the pull, the way her presence unsettled his carefully built walls.

Dev (to himself): “She doesn’t just challenge me. She steadies me.”

The night swallowed his words, but the truth remained.

Closing Scene

Thripthi paused at her balcony, overlooking the city. She whispered into the night:

Thripthi: “He’s not just steel and silence. He’s human. And maybe… dangerously so.”

Chapter Fourteen wasn’t about numbers or boardrooms. It was about trust — fragile, dangerous, and impossible to ignore.