Dimpal didn’t sleep,not even for a minute.Her mind replayed the moment Aarav Singh—the CEO, her boss, the man who barely spoke to anyone—touched her chin like she belonged to him.
The way his voice dropped when he said
“You’re mine to protect. Remember that.”
Those words burned into her like a bruise no one else could see.
And now—
she stood inside the forensics lab, staring at a blood-soaked cloth bag that had just been brought in by Crime Branch.
This wasn’t normal intern work.
she knew it.
Everyone did.
Yet the case file clearly said:
“Deliver directly to: Intern, Ms.Dimpal
Attn: CEO Aarav Singh.”
Why would a murder case be sent to her?
Why would Aarav put her name on it?
Her gloved hands trembled as she opened the sealed bag.
A metallic smell leaked out—sharp, thick, unmistakable.
Fresh blood.
she gulped.
“Did… did they send the wrong packet?” she whispered.
Ria, dimpal's senior, frowned. “No. Aarav sir signed the requisition. He said you'll handle the preliminary analysis today.”
her blood ran cold.
“He what?”
Ria nodded. “Girl, you’re lucky. No intern in the history of this lab ever got personal attention from him. You’ve made quite an impression.”
her heart stopped and she forgot to breaths.
Lucky?
This didn’t feel like luck.
This felt like being circled by a hunter who chose you marked prey.
she inhaled shakily, forcing her mind into forensic mode.
Focus.
Not on him.
On the sample.
dimpal spread the cloth on the table—
dark brown dried patches, some still red at the edges.
It looked like someone had wiped their hands on it after committing a crime.
But that wasn’t the part that froze her breath.
On one corner was a faint mark—
a shape she almost dismissed as random patterning…
Until her brain screamed.
It was a fingerprint.
A partial print.
Very clear.
“Ria?” dimpal whispered. “Could this be latent?”
Before she could answer—
The door slammed open.
dimpal flinched so hard she nearly dropped the bag.
Aarav Singh strode in, dressed in a charcoal suit that looked like it cost more than her monthly stipend, dark eyes flicking over everything with surgical precision.
No knocking.
No announcement.
Just him.
And his silent, suffocating presence.
Ria straightened. “Sir—”
“Leave.”
One word. Commanding.
She rushed out.
dimpal's pulse hammered.
Now it was just dimpal and him.
He stepped closer, eyes scanning her face like he was reading every micro-expression.
“You didn’t sleep,” he murmured.
dimpal swallowed.
“How—how do you know that?”
“You look exhausted. And your hands are shaking.”
she tried to hide them behind her back.
He caught her wrist.
Not hard.
But firm.
Like they belonged in his grip.
His touch sent sparks down her spine.
Aarav lowered his voice.
Dangerously soft.
“Why are you scared?”
“I’m not—”
“You are,” he interrupted. “Your pupils dilated the moment I entered.”
How did he notice that?
He brushed his thumb on her wrist.
“This… fear,” he murmured, “is it because of me? Or the evidence I assigned you?”
Assigned.
Not requested.
Not recommended.
Assigned.
“Why did you put my name on a murder case?” dimpal asked quietly.
His jaw tightened.
His eyes darkened.
“I didn’t like how close you were standing to that police officer yesterday.”
her entire body went rigid.
“What? He was only asking questions—”
“He was looking at you,” he snapped. “Smiling at you. I don’t tolerate that.”
her breath caught.
This man…
This CEO…
This insanely powerful person…
Was jealous of a police officer talking to her?
“What does that have to do with giving me a bloody murder cloth?!”
Aarav stepped closer.
Too close.
His breath brushed dimpal's forehead.
“Because,” he said, voice dropping to a whisper,
“I want you near me.”
dimpal stared at him.
“And I want to make sure no one else gets near you.”
her heartbeat pounded painfully.
This was obsession.
Sharp.
Unfiltered.
Almost predatory.
But still—not violent.
Not unkind.
Just… consuming.
she gulped. “Aarav… this is a lab. You can’t—”
He leaned in.
“I can do whatever I want.”
her stomach flipped.
He straightened and looked at the blood-stained cloth.
His eyes sharpened immediately—CEO mode.
“Report?” he asked.
she exhaled shakily. “A partial fingerprint. Right here.”
His attention snapped to the mark.
He bent beside her, shoulder brushing dimpal's shoulders.
she felt electricity shoot through her arm.
“That print…” he murmured, “is impossible.”
“What do you mean?”
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he took out a pair of clean gloves and gently held her hand steady as you pointed at the print again.
He didn’t have to hold her hand.
He wanted to.
“Sir,” you whispered, “what’s going on?”
Aarav’s jaw flexed.
“Nothing.”
Lie.
she could hear the lie in the silence.
He gently traced the edge of the print with his gloved finger.
Then he said something that made her blood freeze:
“This murder case…
didn’t ‘come’ to you.”
He turned.
“I sent it.”
You blinked.
“But why?”
His expression darkened.
“Because this fingerprint…”
He exhaled sharply.
“…belongs to someone who should be dead.”
her breath caught.
“What do you mean ‘dead’?”
He looked at you with something like pain—
or anger—
or memory.
“I’ll explain later. For now, you’re coming with me.”
“Where?”
He didn’t answer.
He just grabbed her wrist—
again, not hurting you, but not letting her go either—
and pulled her toward the door.
“Aarav—sir! Where are we going?”
He didn’t turn back.
“To see the body,” he said.
her stomach dropped.
“The murder victim?”
His voice was low.
“No.
The killer.”
.
.
.
.
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