AANYA’S POV

The office buzzed with energy, the kind that made papers flutter and coffee machines hiss like miniature steam engines. Aanya sat at her desk, staring at her screen while her phone buzzed again. A’s message popped up, and her fingers itched to type back. She tried to focus on the spreadsheet in front of her, but her heart betrayed her attention.

Meera leaned over the cubicle wall, arms crossed, a teasing smirk on her face.
Meera: “Seriously, Aanya… you’ve been staring at that phone like it’s a crystal ball. Who is he?”

Aanya glanced up, cheeks warming. “It’s… just someone I chat with. Across the ocean. Nothing serious.”

Naina spun in her chair, hair flying, eyes wide. “Uh-huh. Just someone, right. And you’re glowing like a lighthouse over here. Come on, Aanya, we deserve details!”

Kritika, ever the blunt one, dropped her pen on the desk with a loud clatter. “Yeah! International crush at work? This is practically dangerous! Do you even know him?”

Aanya laughed softly, trying to type a reply to A without drawing more attention. Her heart fluttered with every ping. She typed carefully:

Aanya: “Just conversations. Nothing fancy.”

Almost immediately, her phone buzzed again. A’s reply was playful, teasing, and it made her chest tighten:

A: Then let’s steal it. Just for today.

Meera narrowed her eyes at Aanya, raising a brow. “Steal it? Oh, come on… this is getting dramatic. You’re falling, aren’t you?”

Aanya shot her a look, half annoyed, half flustered. “No! I mean… maybe I like talking to him… but it’s not—stop it!”

Naina leaned on the cubicle wall, eyes glittering with curiosity. “Oh, Aanya… you’re hopeless. We all see it. You’re blushing, smiling at your phone like it’s the most precious thing in the world. Admit it—he’s got you wrapped around his little finger.”

Kritika chuckled. “I’m just saying… international strangers aren’t usually this good at… well, whatever magic he’s doing.”

Aanya rolled her eyes, but a small smile escaped. She took a deep breath, letting the warmth of the message sink in. Across oceans, someone she had never met in person had carved out a space in her mornings, her thoughts, and her heart.

Meera, noticing her distracted state, smirked. “Don’t worry, we’re not judging… much. But I swear, if he hurts you, we’ll hunt him down. Across continents, if needed.”

Aanya laughed, shaking her head. “I think I can survive… hopefully.”

The chaos of the office continued around her—phones ringing, colleagues chatting, printers whirring—but she felt a bubble of calm, a tiny stolen moment, carried in her phone’s light. She sipped her coffee, letting it warm her hands, and glanced at her screen again.

Aanya: “…Then let’s steal it. Just for today.”

Her thumb hovered over the send button. Heart racing. Excitement mingled with nerves. She pressed send. Almost instantly, her phone buzzed again.

A: Done. But only today. Tomorrow chaos returns.

Aanya leaned back in her chair, smiling softly, as if the world outside the cubicles had melted away. Her friends noticed the quiet change in her demeanor but didn’t press further, letting her enjoy the stolen bubble of connection.

For the rest of the morning, Aanya moved through the chaos of her workday with a quiet lightness, glancing at her phone whenever it buzzed, savoring every teasing, protective, and playful word from A. Amid deadlines, reports, and ringing phones, she felt a small thrill—a tether across oceans, a secret treasure of stolen moments, and a heart quietly entangled in a connection she couldn’t see in person, but already felt deeply.

ADRIAN’S POV

The palace corridors were alive with activity, though to the untrained eye it appeared calm and orderly. Courtiers in crisp uniforms moved with quiet precision, servants carried trays of polished silver, and distant laughter echoed from the gardens. Adrian moved through it all with effortless grace, a mask of composure firmly in place, but inside, his mind was far from calm.

He paused briefly near the sunlit balcony, the view of Valeria sprawling beneath him both breathtaking and suffocating. The golden light caught the sharp angles of his face, but he barely noticed. His attention was on his phone, the small rectangle of light that connected him to Aanya across oceans. Her latest message lingered in his thoughts:

Aanya: “…Then let’s steal it. Just for today.”

Adrian slow, almost imperceptible smile tugged at his lips. Just for today. Such a simple phrase, yet it carried weight heavier than any throne or council decision he’d faced. She didn’t know the life he led, the responsibilities he carried, or the dangers that lurked even in the light of day. And yet, her trust and her words had begun to carve a space in his heart.

He leaned against the balcony railing, fingers brushing the smooth marble as his mind raced. Each message from her tugged at something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in years. His protective instincts surged—not just a casual concern, but a raw, urgent desire to shield her from every inconvenience, every threat, every unexpected chaos.

And speaking of chaos… the palace didn’t allow him a moment’s peace. Courtiers brought urgent messages, nobles whispered petty schemes, and Lucian—his ever-watchful younger brother—had taken it upon himself to monitor his every move, teasing when he faltered, curious when he lingered too long over his phone.

Adrian ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. His mother, observant and calculating, had noticed the shift in him. She didn’t ask questions outright—never directly—but her quiet, almost obsessive attention was enough to unsettle him. The slightest smile at a message, the faint sparkle in his eyes, the moments he seemed… distracted. She saw it all. She didn’t need to know Aanya existed, or that these stolen messages had become his anchor. She only needed to see that something had captured him, and her curiosity was dangerous in its own subtle way.

Adrian’s life outside of these brief digital exchanges was regimented, controlled, and luxurious. Breakfast in the sunlit atrium, surrounded by the faint aroma of fresh pastries and strong coffee. Meetings with ministers, strategy sessions with advisors, and private training in fencing and horseback riding that left him both invigorated and restless. Everything was precise, disciplined, polished—but with Aanya, the structure began to crack just enough to feel human.

He tapped a finger against the railing, contemplating the distance between them. Across oceans, she was living her own chaotic, colorful, unpredictable life, entirely unaware of who he truly was. And yet, every playful message, every subtle tease, every shared secret—even if trivial—pulled him further in.

Adrian: One day, I’ll see if your bravery matches your words.

Adrian soft laugh escaped him. Bravery… she embodied it effortlessly, even in the smallest gestures: facing office chaos, navigating daily life, wielding humor like a shield. And it was maddeningly, devastatingly attractive.

His thumb hovered over the screen. He wanted to tell her so much—words of protection, teasing, longing—but he couldn’t. She didn’t know him. She didn’t know the palace, the titles, the expectations, the shadows. The risk of revealing too much was immeasurable. And yet, the temptation to let her in, to let her touch even the edges of his world, was almost irresistible.

Adrian exhaled sharply, pressing the phone briefly to his chest. “For now,” he muttered under his breath, “small moments are enough.”

Behind the calm, the controlled movements, and the sharp intellect lay a heart quietly unraveling. Each ping of her messages was a lifeline, a tether across continents, a thread he couldn’t sever without leaving a void he didn’t want to face.

He straightened, shoulders squared, mask of composure restored. Duties called—meetings, councils, the endless ballet of palace life—but in the back of his mind, a single, persistent thought lingered: Aanya. Across oceans. A connection stolen in moments. And slowly… impossibly… I’m falling.

The afternoon sun reflected off polished marble floors and gilded windows, but all he could see was the invisible line connecting him to her, fragile, electrifying, and unbreakable in ways he wasn’t ready to admit.

AANYA’S POV

The office had shifted into the familiar lull of the post-lunch haze. The hum of computers, distant chatter, and the occasional clatter of a dropped pen filled the air. Aanya rubbed her temples, trying to shake off the lingering drowsiness while her phone buzzed again.

A: Surviving the battlefield unscathed, I hope?

Aanya smiled faintly, her fingers flying over the keyboard. “Barely. Coffee is my only weapon, sarcasm my shield.” She pressed send and leaned back, letting herself savor the fluttering warmth of anticipation.

Meera peeked over her cubicle wall, eyes glittering with mischief. “So, battlefield, huh? Is this war talk code for… your international crush texting again?”

Naina spun in her chair to join the conversation, a teasing grin on her face. “Yes! You’re blushing again. Admit it, Aanya—you’re smitten.”

Kritika, ever blunt, dropped her pen loudly on the desk. “Honestly, I think we can all see it. He’s got you wrapped around his finger with just messages. Dangerous, Aanya. Very dangerous.”

Aanya rolled her eyes, laughing quietly. “It’s not like that. We just… talk. It’s nice to have someone to… joke with.”

Meera raised a brow. “Joke with? Uh-huh. That’s cute, Aanya. You’re glowing. Like literally glowing.”

Aanya tried to focus on the spreadsheet in front of her, but her thoughts wandered to A. Across oceans, he was probably moving through his day, unaware of how much his words made her heart flutter. Each small, teasing message became a stolen moment, a thread connecting her to someone she hadn’t met but already trusted in ways that felt dangerous and exhilarating.

Her phone buzzed again.

A: Then we steal it. Just for today.

Aanya’s chest tightened. Her thumb hovered over the screen before she tapped send. “…Then let’s steal it. Just for today.”

The office chaos continued around her, but in that moment, it faded to the background. Papers, phones, and ringing emails existed, but only on the periphery. Her world had shrunk to this small bubble of connection, a stolen afternoon with someone who made her chest flutter and her mind wander.

Meera nudged her lightly. “You really are hopeless. But cute. Very cute.”

Naina leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially, “We’ll help you plan the next message. Strategically. It’s a mission, remember?”

Kritika laughed. “A mission of the heart. Just don’t get caught smiling at your phone like that again—some people might notice.”

Aanya shook her head, letting out a soft laugh. “I’m careful. It’s just… nice. Small victories in a sea of chaos.”

Her colleagues returned to their own work, leaving Aanya to steal another glance at her phone. The afternoon ticked on, each message from A like a tiny gift, a tether across oceans, a thread of something exhilarating and fragile. She typed carefully:

Aanya: “…I hope our small stolen moments can survive this chaos.”

Almost immediately, her phone vibrated.

A: They will. Even in chaos, we find a thread.

Aanya’s heart swelled. Tiny, stolen threads. Moments of laughter, subtle teasing, and warmth—these were her victories, her brief escapes from the monotony of work, and the unpredictable chaos of life.

As the sun began to dip outside the office windows, painting the sky in soft shades of orange and pink, Aanya felt a rare sense of calm. Amid deadlines, work pressures, and her friends’ playful prodding, she had stolen something entirely her own. A thread that tied her heart to someone far away, someone who made the world a little lighter, a little warmer, and infinitely more thrilling.

She tucked her phone close, smiling to herself. The office would continue to hum with chaos, but for now, in this stolen afternoon, she had a moment of magic.

The sun had begun its slow descent, spilling golden-orange light across the office windows. The usual post-lunch haze had given way to the frenetic push of deadlines and last-minute emails. Aanya rubbed her temples, trying to focus on the spreadsheet glowing on her screen, but her phone kept buzzing insistently beside her keyboard.

Meera leaned over from the adjacent desk, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Another message from him, isn’t it? Your little ocean friend.”

Naina spun in her chair, catching Meera’s eye. “Honestly, we all know why she’s distracted. Look at her! She’s grinning at her phone like a total fool.”

Kritika, arms crossed, sighed dramatically. “It’s obvious, Aanya. You’re head over heels. And don’t think we won’t tease you endlessly about it. Every little ping makes your day, huh?”

Aanya shook her head, cheeks flushing, yet she couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “It’s not like that. We just… talk. It’s nice.”

Meera leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially, “Nice? Uh-huh. We’ll call it a tactical operation: Operation Stolen Moments.”

Aanya laughed softly, glancing at her phone again. The screen lit up:

A: Alive?

She typed quickly, heart fluttering with each keystroke:
Aanya: Barely. But I survived. Barely.

The girls watched knowingly, smirking at the subtle pink tint creeping over her cheeks. They knew it wasn’t just the usual office exhaustion; it was something else entirely. Something that made her grin, laugh softly, and drift off into little daydreams mid-task.

Her thoughts wandered across oceans, imagining A—his calm composure, the faint mischievous glint she could sense in his words, the way he made the distance feel almost irrelevant. She pictured him in some distant office or palace room, perhaps looking at a cityscape similar to hers, typing the words she treasured.

A: Then we steal it. Just for today.

Her chest tightened. Her thumb hovered over the screen, hesitation flickering through her. …Just for today. The casual phrasing made her pulse race. She tapped send:
Aanya: …Then let’s steal it. Just for tonight.

The office around her faded into the background—the tapping keyboards, the distant hum of printers, the occasional cough or phone ring—all became peripheral to the small bubble of stolen connection she was immersed in.

Meera, ever perceptive, leaned in once more. “You’re glowing, Aanya. Honestly. And yes, we notice. We notice everything.”

Naina laughed softly. “Consider us your strategic advisory team for these… clandestine operations.”

Kritika rolled her eyes but smirked. “Just don’t let anyone else notice how… distracted you are. You’re lucky it’s just us.”

Aanya tucked her phone close, smiling to herself. Every message, every teasing word, every small bubble of connection was a lifeline. For a few moments, she could forget the stress, the deadlines, the office chaos—and just exist in the tiny, electrifying space where she and A shared their stolen moments.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard once more, thinking of what to say, what tiny act of connection she could create before the workday ended:

Aanya: Chaos still reigns here, but we… we’re winning our little battles.

Almost instantly, the familiar buzz confirmed the reply:

A: Always. And I’ll always be here for backup, no matter the distance.

Aanya’s heart skipped. Across continents, someone she had never met, someone she didn’t truly know, had become a lifeline. A thread she could cling to amidst her hectic, unpredictable life. She leaned back, glancing at her colleagues who were oblivious to the storm of stolen moments swirling around her.

The sun dipped lower, painting the office in soft shades of amber and pink. Aanya felt a rare, peaceful warmth—a sensation she hadn’t realized she had been craving all day. Chaos would resume tomorrow, deadlines would pile up, life would demand her attention. But for this evening, she had stolen a moment entirely her own, suspended across oceans, woven together with words, smiles, and quiet, thrilling intimacy.

She whispered softly to herself, almost a mantra:
“Tomorrow chaos returns… but today, I stole this.”

And somewhere far away, A would be feeling the same—holding onto their fragile connection, oblivious to the chaos around him, yet entirely consumed by her presence in his mind.

ADRIAN’S POV

The palace had settled into its usual nighttime rhythm—servants gone, halls empty, and the soft glow of candlelight flickering in private rooms. Yet Adrian’s mind remained anything but calm. Every word from Aanya echoed in his chest, replaying in endless loops.

Lucian lounged nearby, leaning casually against a doorway, his eyes sharp and teasing. “Still glowing, brother?” he asked, voice laced with amusement.

Adrian stiffened slightly, trying to maintain composure. “She’s… just a distraction,” he muttered, though the faintest smile betrayed him.

Lucian smirked knowingly. “Distraction? You’ve been preoccupied all afternoon, pacing, muttering… even your mother noticed.”

Adrian’s chest tightened. His mother—observant, silent, and precise—had indeed noticed the subtle shift. Not once had she asked questions about Aanya’s identity, but the obsessive way she observed him, noting every distracted glance and soft smile, left him unnerved. The truth was he was falling, slowly, inexorably, for someone he couldn’t reveal himself to.

The luxurious palace around him—the golden chandeliers, marble floors, private courtyards—was a gilded cage tonight. Its beauty and order contrasted sharply with the chaos of his emotions. Protecting her, longing for her, keeping his heart tethered yet invisible—it was a balancing act he had never known he’d be capable of.

He pressed the phone to his chest, eyes scanning the city below. Aanya, somewhere far away, unaware of the palace, unaware of him—yet her words, her presence in his mind, held more weight than any council meeting, any ceremonial duty, any opulent display surrounding him.

Lucian leaned closer, whispering with a sly grin, “One day, she’ll step into this palace… and we’ll see if you can keep that composure then.”

Adrian exhaled slowly, chest tight. That day could never come—not yet. And yet, the thought of it, the tiny seed of possibility, made his pulse quicken. For now, the thread between them—the stolen moments, the delicate intimacy across oceans—was all he had. And he would guard it fiercely, obsessively, even as his heart betrayed him with every message, every thought, every fleeting smile.

He whispered softly to the night, as if speaking directly to her:
“For now… this thread, these moments… are ours. And I’ll hold onto them, no matter the chaos, no matter the distance, no matter what comes next.”

Three lives, three continents, one invisible thread:

Aanya: Blissfully unaware, heart fluttering at messages, craving stolen moments amidst daily chaos, teased by friends who notice everything.

Adrian: Caught between protective instincts, rising affection, family scrutiny, and the gilded luxury of his life, tethered to a girl he cannot reveal himself to.

Lucian and family: Observing, teasing, obsessively watching, hinting at future challenges and intrigue without interfering—yet.

Tomorrow promises more chaos, unspoken tension, and the slow burn of two hearts inching closer while worlds, oceans, and secrets stretch between them.