Chapter 29

The afternoon sun streamed through the tall windows of the staff room, painting the wooden tables with streaks of gold. The quiet rustle of papers, the clinking of teacups, and the occasional murmur of professors filled the space.

Poornima sat at her desk near the corner, her head bent over a well-worn copy of Shakespeare’s Sonnets. Her pen tapped lightly against the margin as she scribbled notes, though her mind was far from the verses. She sensed him before she saw him—like the air itself shifted when he entered.

Veeresh Raj walked in, his presence commanding as always, the weight of authority in each step. His colleagues greeted him, but his eyes searched only one place. And when they found her—simple, serene, absorbed in her world of words—his chest tightened.

He walked to the opposite desk, placing his files with his usual precision. Outwardly, nothing had changed. His posture was straight, his face unreadable, his tone steady when he spoke briefly to another professor about the upcoming exam schedule.

But every few moments, his gaze flickered across the room—toward her.

And every time her eyes lifted from her book, almost unknowingly, they collided with his.

It was fleeting, unspoken, yet undeniable.

Her eyes held warmth, curiosity, and a silent question. Why do you look at me this way? Why do you retreat when I try to understand?

His gaze, sharp yet heavy, carried a truth he couldn’t voice. Because you’re the only one who makes me forget control. Because you see the man behind the professor—and that terrifies me.

She looked away first, her lashes lowering, her fingers tightening around the book. A faint flush touched her cheeks, though her expression remained composed.

He leaned back in his chair, his hand resting against his chin as though lost in thought about economics. But his mind wasn’t on numbers—it was on the way her eyes had softened, the way she had broken the silence between them without saying a single word.

The staff room bustled on, unaware that across two desks, a conversation was taking place—through stolen glances, through quiet breaths, through eyes that spoke of things neither dared to say aloud.

For the first time in years, Veeresh Raj—the man of empires, missions, and unshakable control—felt a crack in his armor. And Poornima Rai—the woman of simplicity and strength—felt a pull she could neither name nor deny