The air in Poornima’s restaurant office was thick with the scent of fresh herbs and roasted spices—a comforting sanctuary she had built with her own hands. She had barely settled behind her desk when her assistant interrupted.

“Ma’am, someone from the Raj Group is here. He insists on seeing you.”

Poornima frowned, already bracing herself. “Raj… as in Veeresh Raj?”

Her assistant nodded nervously. “Yes, ma’am. He… he didn’t give a reason.”

Poornima straightened her posture. Calm, composed, unshakable. She had faced investors, critics, and even her own family’s expectations. She could face him too.

The moment he walked in, the temperature in the room seemed to spike. Veeresh—tailored suit, commanding presence, and eyes that seemed to strip her bare—strode in like he owned not just the space, but the city itself.

“Ms. Mewar,” he said, voice low and measured. “I hear you’ve been expanding rather aggressively. Quite impressive… though reckless.”

Poornima’s jaw tightened. “I run my business my way. I don’t need your approval, Mr. Raj.”

He smiled—a small, dangerous tilt of the lips. “Approval? Oh, I don’t care about approval. But I do care about people who think they can challenge me.”

Her laugh was sharp, cutting through his air of authority. “Challenge you? I don’t even know you. And frankly, I have zero interest in it.”

Veeresh’s gaze lingered. “Yet here you are. In my presence.”

“I’m in my own presence,” she shot back, eyes flashing. “And I suggest you leave before I start charging you for trespassing.”

He chuckled, that deep, low sound that made her toes curl in irritation—and something else, something she refused to admit even to herself. “Defiant. Smart. Dangerous. You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Poornima slammed a hand on her desk. “And you’re full of arrogance, Mr. Raj. Now, if you’ve finished your unsolicited opinions, I have work to do.”

Veeresh leaned forward, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off him. “Oh, I think we’re just getting started.”

Poornima’s pulse quickened, though her expression remained cool. She had built walls stronger than any palace gates—but somehow, he was testing them, probing, teasing, and she hated that a small part of her… wanted him to succeed.

“Leave,” she said, voice steady despite the tension crackling between them.

He grinned. “I can’t. Not yet. But don’t worry… I have a feeling, Ms. Mewar, our paths will cross again.”

And as he finally turned and walked out, Poornima found herself staring after him longer than she should have, heart thumping against her ribs like a wild drum.

Enemies, yes. But something dangerous and magnetic was threading its way between them—something neither of them could ignore.