The gala in Jaipur’s grand palace was a spectacle—crystal chandeliers glimmering, silk-clad guests moving like royalty incarnate, and the scent of jasmine mingling with expensive perfumes. For Poornima, it was another event she was attending out of necessity, not pleasure. Her restaurants had been invited for a partnership showcase, and she had no choice but to attend.

She didn’t expect to see him.

Veeresh Raj. In a tuxedo that made every man in the room look pedestrian and every woman whisper, he leaned casually against a marble pillar, surveying the crowd like a king inspecting his domain. And when his gaze landed on her, that slow, deliberate look that made her pulse stutter, Poornima knew this night was about to become complicated.

Before she could decide whether to dodge or confront, an event organizer approached her. “Ms. Mewar, you’ve been paired with Mr. Raj for the charity auction. You’ll present together.”

Her stomach flipped. Present together? That was a sentence designed to test patience, nerves, and possibly, heartbeats.

She turned sharply to confront him. “This has to be a mistake.”

He smirked, that dangerous tilt that made her teeth grind. “No mistake. Fate—or poor event planning—decided we’d work as a team.”

“Team?” she repeated, incredulous. “We’re… we’re enemies, Mr. Raj. Not a team.”

“And yet,” he said smoothly, offering one gloved hand, “here we are. So shall we make this… bearable?”

Poornima stared at the hand, then at him, and then back at the hand. Reluctantly, she shook it—firmly, because she wasn’t about to show weakness.

The auction began, and the two of them were forced to stand side by side, presenting bids, explaining partnerships, and smiling at wealthy donors. Every word Veeresh spoke was measured, magnetic; every glance he threw in her direction was deliberate, teasing.

Poornima found herself biting her lip, trying not to react, but her pulse betrayed her. He was infuriating, arrogant, and entirely too captivating. And the worst part? He seemed to know exactly what effect he had on her.

Halfway through, he whispered just loud enough for her to hear, “You’re distracting me.”

Poornima froze. “Excuse me?”

“You,” he said, eyes smoldering. “Every move, every word… you’re infuriatingly distracting. Focus, Ms. Mewar, or we’ll lose the bid.”

She wanted to snap back, to insult him in ten different ways—but instead, her chest fluttered. She hated it, and yet… it was thrilling.

By the end of the night, the auction had been a success, and they had survived each other’s presence. Barely.

Veeresh leaned close as they left the stage, voice low and dangerous. “This… pairing might be the most interesting part of my year.”

Poornima squared her shoulders, refusing to flinch. “Don’t get used to it, Mr. Raj. One night doesn’t mean anything.”

But as he watched her walk away, Veeresh knew exactly the effect she had on him. Dangerous, yes—but he wasn’t the kind of man who walked away from danger. Not when it looked like her.

And somewhere, deep in the pulse of Jaipur’s glittering night, a war of wills had just begun.