The desert sun had a way of making everything sharper—the sand, the air, even the sharp edges of people. And Veeresh Singh Raj—king of Rajasthan, feared businessman, untouchable underworld don—was nothing if not sharp.

He stepped out of his sleek black SUV, eyes hidden behind dark aviators, but the air around him seemed to bend with authority. Even the wind dared not challenge him. Today’s meeting was supposed to be mundane—a review of a potential business expansion—but something in the city felt… different.

And then she appeared.

Poornima Singh Mewar. A princess, a restaurateur, a woman who walked in like she owned her world without even trying. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders in effortless waves, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd, and the way she held herself… it was impossible not to notice. She wasn’t trying to impress anyone. Yet she had already impressed everyone, including him.

Veeresh’s lips curved into a half-smile, though only he knew it. She was dangerous—not because of power or lineage, but because she refused to bow, refused to flinch, refused to acknowledge the invisible rules that dictated the world he thrived in.

Poornima, on the other hand, didn’t even glance at him at first. She was busy inspecting the hall, the catering setup, the staff—her domain, her rules. That was until a shadow fell over her papers, and a deep voice interrupted her thoughts.

“You’re in my way,” he said. Not a question, not a threat—just a statement.

Poornima looked up, eyes meeting his. For a moment, the world paused.

“You’re Veeresh Raj,” she said finally, her tone carefully neutral, hiding the flicker of curiosity. “The king, the businessman, the… legend.”

“And you’re Poornima Singh Mewar,” he replied smoothly, a hint of amusement curling the edges of his words. “The princess who’s too stubborn to follow anyone’s rules.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And you’re the man who thinks everyone should follow his.”

Veeresh’s smile widened—dangerous, knowing, electric. “Perhaps. But some… exceptions are worth noticing.”

Poornima’s heart skipped—annoying, infuriatingly so—but she quickly masked it with a roll of her eyes. “I highly doubt I’m one of your exceptions, Mr. Raj.”

“Maybe you’re not. Yet.” His gaze lingered just a moment too long, making her skin tingle. “But I like a challenge.”

And just like that, the collision of two worlds began—the fire of royalty, the venom of power, and a storm neither of them knew they were walking straight into.