Page 77 of Dream On, Liar

“Yeah,” Rihaan nodded once. “But, I’d liked to be on the low order for today. Pain’s at a seven today.”

A sharp breath left me as my father nodded.

Just as Rihaan turned to leave, my father stopped him. “Rihaan.”

“Yeah?”

“You know I wouldn’t ask this of you, if it wasn’t important. But I’m asking you to sort this out before I have a very expensive problem on my hands.”

Then his gaze sharpened.

“I’ve been understand with both of you so far. And while I understand where you’re coming from Rihaan, this can’t go on any longer. If that means treat this like a contract, then do that. You both know go to negotiate your terms, lay it out. But if neither of you can be adult enough of to do it, no one will be leaving this room happy.”

And then he was gone. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving the room too still.

For a moment, I didn’t move.

Neither did Rihaan.

I hadn’t even realised he was already there until I felt it—the weight of his presence across from me. He was leaning back against the chair opposite, arms folded, posture loose in a way that didn’t match the exhaustion in his face.

There were shadows under his eyes. A tightness in his jaw that hadn’t been there before. Like he hadn’t been sleeping properly. Like something had been sitting on his chest for days and refusing to move.

He looked…worn down.

Not angry.

Not sharp.

Just tired in a way I didn’t know how to fix.

But so badly wanted to.

The thought was enough to startle me, making me trip over my words as I spoke. Just so I couldn’t dive deeper into why in the world my brain had thought of it.

“So,” I said. “What will it take?”

His eyes lifted to mine, almost surprised by the sincerity in my voice.

And for a second, something flickered there—something unreadable, something that made my stomach tighten before I could name it.

Then his mouth tilted.

Slow. Controlled. Before it turned into a smirk. “An apology.”

I shrugged. “I’m sorry.”

He raised a brow. “Don’t try to bullshit a bullshiter, trouble. We both know you don’t mean that.”

My expressions morphed into an unbothered agreement. “You didn’t specify. I wonder my father said you know how to negotiate.”

Fire blazed through his gaze. “Okay. You want it specified? I want you to apologise like you genuinely mean it. Then, I want you to go out and ask Raina to help you write an announcement that apologises for your behaviour, and the chaos your paper brought.”

I blinked, but when I sensed the seriousness of his tone, I couldn’t help it.

A short, disbelieving laugh left me. “You’re joking.”

“No.” The certainty in his voice made my chest go tight. “I won’t work with you until you do.”