The Jaipur Marriott gleamed under the night sky, its grand chandeliers reflecting in the polished marble floors. Poornima stepped out of her car, heart racing despite herself. The way Veeresh had summoned her—so abrupt, so commanding—still had her pulse quickened.

She entered the hotel lobby, scanning the space for him, when he appeared, as if materializing from the shadows himself. Veeresh was impeccably dressed, every inch the commanding presence she had already begun to loathe and… secretly admire.

“Good evening, Ms. Mewar,” he greeted, voice smooth, with that dangerous edge she could never quite ignore.

“Veeresh… you called me here,” she said, trying to keep her tone even. “Why?”

He gestured toward a private lounge. “Projects. Auction outcomes. Future collaborations. I needed you here… alone.”

She hesitated, then followed him inside. The room was warm, intimate, and impossibly elegant. On the table lay a small cake, candles flickering softly.

Her eyes widened. “Is… is this—?”

Veeresh’s dark gaze met hers, and for the first time, a rare, almost human softness crept in. “Happy Birthday, Poornima.”

She blinked, shocked. “You… you remembered?”

He smirked. “I read it in the bidding paper. Not that it matters. But… happy birthday, nonetheless.”

Poornima’s lips curved into a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Mr. Raj.”

“Call me Veeresh,” he said, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. “Now, cut the cake.”

With a laugh that was half nervous, half incredulous, Poornima picked up the knife and sliced into the cake. Veeresh leaned closer, and in a move that made her heart hammer, they fed each other, frosting smudging lips, cheeks brushing. The air between them thickened with unspoken tension—intense, magnetic, and undeniably charged.

They leaned back slightly, catching their breath, the flicker of candlelight dancing in their eyes.

“So,” Veeresh murmured, tone shifting back to business, though the heat in his gaze didn’t fade, “today’s auction. Your strategies… I want to hear your take. Every detail.”

Poornima met his eyes, her mind racing, her pulse still high. “The projections show that if we adjust the bids here and leverage the local connections there, we could—”

He listened intently, but his gaze never wavered, sending small shocks through her with every glance. The way he hung on her words, the way his presence pressed close, it was suffocating and thrilling all at once.

Minutes stretched into a private symphony of collaboration, teasing, and unspoken challenge. Every suggestion she made, every counterpoint he raised, carried a current of sparks between them. They argued, they laughed softly, they challenged each other—but beneath the business talk, the tension hummed.

And in the flickering candlelight, as she looked at him feeding her another bite of cake, Poornima realized with a jolt that her carefully constructed walls weren’t enough to keep him out. Not tonight. Not ever.

Veeresh, for his part, was perfectly aware of it—and the dangerous thrill of that knowledge only made him lean closer.