Next day,

Mrunal was flushed even before she stepped into the office. No makeup today. Just a touch of kajal. She didn’t have the energy to look “presentable.” Not when her mind was a battlefield of whispered words and midnight confessions. Every time she blinked, his texts played behind her eyes. SinEater.

He was getting under her skin. No—inside it.

It was stupid, really. She didn’t even know his name. Just a username and a voice she refused to hear yet. But he was making her imagine things—do things—that she’d never even dared to admit in the real world.

And somehow, she couldn’t stop.

Her fingers tapped against her thigh under the desk as she tried to focus on her presentation slides. But her mind kept drifting—what would he say tonight? What would he want? Would she finally confess the fantasy that had kept her awake until dawn?

"Stop it," she told herself. You're at work, not in that world.

“Excited for the office party?” Tanya dropped into the seat beside her, her voice light and mischievous.

“Hmm?” Mrunal blinked. “Oh, right. Yeah. Should be fun.”

Tanya narrowed her eyes. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve been up all night.”

Mrunal let out a small laugh. “Insomnia. You know how it is.”

Tanya grinned. “Or maybe Velvet?”

Mrunal stiffened. “What?”

Tanya leaned in and whispered, “Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about. I saw your face yesterday when I mentioned it. You’ve been on, haven’t you?”

Heat crept up Mrunal’s cheeks. She looked around quickly, praying no one heard.

Tanya cackled. “God, you’re blushing. That means it’s good. Who is he? Some mystery man rocking your world?”

Mrunal tried to play it off. “I don’t know... just talking. It’s anonymous.”

“Anonymous, hot, and dangerous. That’s the best kind,” Tanya smirked. “Unlike our boss.”

Mrunal raised an eyebrow.

Tanya rolled her eyes dramatically. “Devraj Rathore. God really wasted a sinfully beautiful face on a man that broody. He barely talks, never smiles, and walks around like he’s plotting everyone’s funeral.”

Mrunal didn’t reply. She just sipped her coffee, eyes flicking to the conference room across the floor. That’s when it happened. She looked up, and he was there—Devraj Rathore. Leaning against the doorway in his usual charcoal shirt, sleeves rolled just enough to show the veins on his forearm. His jaw sharp, mouth unsmiling. Eyes... locked on her.

For a second—just a second—the world narrowed to that gaze. It wasn’t polite. It wasn’t distant. It felt... like knowing. Mrunal’s breath caught. Her fingers tightened around the mug.She looked away first.

“See?” Tanya whispered. “Total psycho boss energy.”

Mrunal forced a laugh. “Yeah... totally.”

But her heart was racing. And her thoughts were spiraling.

Later at night,

 11:57 PM

Mrunal stared at the glowing screen, her fingers trembling slightly as they hovered over the keyboard. She’d worn her softest satin slip tonight. Alone in her room. Curtains drawn. Door locked. Breath shallow.

She told herself it was just words. Just a game. But it never felt like just anything with him. The chat pinged.

SinEater: You're late, DarkMuse.

Her pulse kicked. She typed back quickly.

DarkMuse: Am I? Maybe I wanted to keep you waiting.

SinEater: Dangerous move, sweetheart. Do you forget who you belong to in here?

She swallowed. The possessiveness in his texts always made her dizzy.

DarkMuse: I don’t belong to anyone. Unless you plan on changing that.

There was a pause. Then his message hit like a whip.

SinEater: You want my darkest fantasy?

DarkMuse: Always.

SinEater: Then imagine this.

SinEater: You're on your knees. Silk binding your wrists behind your back. Eyes covered. Mouth parted. Waiting. Her throat dried.

SinEater: I don’t let you speak. I don’t let you touch. I don’t even let you see me. You're mine—under my control, under my mercy. You only breathe when I say. You only come when I allow it.

Mrunal’s fingers shook. She felt the slip of reality blur. Her thighs clenched.

DarkMuse: Would you hurt me?

SinEater: Never to damage. But enough to make you feel me for days. My marks on your thighs. My fingers bruising your hips. My name in your mouth while you beg.

SinEater: You’d be so good for me. Pretty. Tied. Desperate. But silent… until I tell you to scream.

She gasped softly, heat blooming across her skin like wildfire.

DarkMuse: And if I tried to resist?

SinEater: Then I’d pin you down harder. Make you prove how badly you need to be owned.

Silence. The kind that crackled.

SinEater: Tell me, Muse. Are you wet for me right now?

Her breath hitched. She typed:

DarkMuse: I’ve never been wetter.

SinEater: Good. Because next time, I want to hear you.

DarkMuse: I told you. I’m not ready.

SinEater: But your body is.

SinEater: You can lie with words. But not with the way you’re touching yourself right now.

Mrunal stared at the screen, stunned. Exposed.

Because she was. How the hell did he know? She wanted to deny it. But she didn’t.

Instead, her reply was breathless, needy:

DarkMuse: What would you do if I was in front of you now?

SinEater: I’d tie you up and ruin you slowly. Until you forget every man who touched you before me. Until you’re nothing but my Muse. And then I’d do it again.