Anna’s breath caught in her throat.
Niran.
His grip on her wrist was firm—but not bruising. Not yet. His expression was unreadable, dark eyes scanning her face like he was peeling back every layer of her soul.
Anna’s stomach twisted.
How long had he been standing there?
Had he been watching her?
Her pulse thundered in her ears, but she forced herself to stay still. Stay calm.
Niran’s gaze flicked past her, scanning the empty room before settling back on her with quiet intensity. "What are you doing in here?"
His voice was smooth, almost lazy. But there was something beneath it. Something sharp.
Anna swallowed, her mind racing. She couldn’t show fear. Couldn’t let him see the panic rising in her chest.
"I—I thought Dara might be here," she said, forcing her voice to stay steady. "
