Beneath The scars 📚

"When I was a boy," Agastya said suddenly, as if speaking more to the view than her, "my father told me something I've never forgotten. He said: You can either be loved or respected. But never both."

Risha blinked. The shift in tone was so sudden, it took her a second to follow.

"Which did you choose?" she asked.

He turned back slowly, eyes unreadable. "Respect is quieter. But it lasts."

The air between them thickened.

Then he returned to the table, lifted the preliminary contract, and handed her a pen.

"You have one night," he said. "To read this. To think. To walk away, if you choose."

"And if I sign it?"

"Then we don't look back."