shifted shadow

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Chapter Four: Shifting Shadows

The next morning, the hospital buzzed with rumors.

Someone had seen Damien Orlov walking around the hospital courtyard in the rain — no guards, no cane, nothing but that cold calm that unnerved everyone who looked too long.

Rhea barely mentioned it.

But Aanya couldn’t stop thinking about their conversation the night before.

> “You already solved me… didn’t you?”

That single sentence clung to her like a second skin.

She hadn’t changed the plot — not exactly. Damien still remembered Rhea, still asked about her. But his curiosity about Aanya was growing. Faster than expected.

She had stepped too far into the story.

Now the story was starting to stare back.

---

Later That Day – Recovery Room

Aanya passed by Damien’s room again. She wasn’t scheduled to check on him, but her legs moved without permission. Just a glance, she told herself.

Through the glass window, she saw him — sitting on the bed, one hand typing something on a sleek black laptop. The other held a glass of water.

Rhea was inside, standing near the monitors, chart in hand.

She was smiling. He wasn’t.

Damien’s eyes didn’t leave the door.

Didn’t leave Aanya.

Their eyes met.

Aanya froze.

Damien said something to Rhea — short, abrupt. Then he stood up, limping slightly, and walked to the door. Opened it.

“Aanya,” he said. Calm. Like he’d summoned her.

“Mr. Orlov,” she answered, keeping her voice neutral.

“Come in,” he said.

“I’m not on your case—”

“I won’t ask again.”

Rhea looked confused. Aanya hesitated, then stepped inside.

“I wanted to thank you properly,” Damien said, eyes never leaving her face.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You were there when I woke up. You answered my questions. You didn’t lie.” He looked at Rhea. “Most people lie when they’re nervous.”

Aanya glanced at Rhea, whose expression had shifted—subtle confusion, a hint of discomfort.

“You said you don’t like men like me,” Damien continued, “but you still show up.”

Aanya forced a smile. “Maybe I just like disasters.”

Rhea laughed awkwardly. Damien didn’t.

He stepped forward, so close Aanya could see the faint scar beneath his jaw.

“You’re not afraid of me,” he said. “That’s not wise.”

“I’m not interested in being wise,” she said, turning to leave.

Before she exited, she glanced at Rhea.

> Still alive. Still untouched. Still unaware.

But Aanya knew. The shadow had started shifting.

And it was beginning to fall on her.

---

Private Office – Orlov Estate

That night, Damien sat alone in his sprawling office.

He scrolled through files his men had compiled — every scrap of data on Dr. Rhea Sharma.

Good family. Clean record. Brilliant surgeon. Calm. Kind.

Predictable.

Then he opened a second file.

Aanya Kapoor. Intern. Top of her class. Reserved. No social media. No close ties. Quiet. Elusive.

He clicked on her photo.

There was something in her eyes.

Something he couldn’t name — but couldn’t ignore.

“I was supposed to want Rhea,” Damien murmured. “So why do I dream about the other one?”

---

Hospital Cafeteria – Two Days Later

Rhea sipped her coffee across from Aanya. She looked tired. Edgy.

“Damien’s been… intense lately,” she said, trying to sound casual.

“How so?”

“He asks too many personal questions. About my childhood. My parents. My relationships.” Rhea looked down. “He’s too observant.”

Aanya felt a chill run down her spine.

This was it — the tipping point.

In the original story, this is where Rhea would begin romanticizing his darkness. Where she would say, “He’s just broken, not dangerous.”

But this time, she wasn’t smiling.

“He doesn’t look at me like a man in love,” Rhea added quietly. “He looks at me like I’m a puzzle he’s already solved.”

Aanya’s chest tightened.

> The obsession is drifting.

And yet… her presence had done exactly what she wanted. Rhea was uncomfortable. A little wary. That meant she wouldn’t fall as easily.

But at what cost?

---

That Night – Orlov Estate

Damien stood by the window, watching the rain.

His phone buzzed. A photo lit up.

Aanya walking alone down the street after her shift. Her hair tied back. A folder clutched to her chest.

She looked tired. Human.

Breakable.

Damien stared at the image for a long time.

Then he said to no one, “She doesn’t know how to hide her soul.”

And he smiled.

A slow, cold, dangerous smile.

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