Rayan leaned against Veeresh’s desk with a sly grin. “Sir, the next project deal—why not take it to Madam’s hotel? Let her handle the client. Show her you trust her.”

Veeresh tilted his head, smirk tugging at his lips. “Nice idea, Rayan. Call Bakshi. Tell him Jaipur Marriott.” His eyes darkened with mischief. Now, Mrs. Raj, let’s see if you can escape me here.

–––

The Jaipur Marriott buzzed with energy. Staff hurried about, silver trays flashing, cutlery clinking, curtains tied in perfection. And in the middle of it all stood Poornima, crisp saree wrapped elegantly, her voice calm but firm as she guided her team. She was every inch the businesswoman she had fought to become.

Veeresh’s gaze found her instantly. His heart clenched—and softened—but his lips curved into his signature smirk. He winked. She met his eyes only for a second, her face stone-cold, before she turned on her heel and disappeared into her cabin.

Bakshi, Veeresh’s client, was already impressed. “Sir, this blueprint is flawless. You’ve outdone yourself.”

“Hmm.” Veeresh didn’t even look at the papers, his attention slipping toward the kitchen doors where Poornima had vanished. “Order some food. This hotel is hers. Let’s see what she serves me.”

–––

In the kitchen, Poornima caught wind of the order. She glanced at the docket, her lips twitching into the faintest rebellious smile. So, Mr. Raj wants to sit here smugly? Fine. With a flick of her wrist, she sprinkled extra chili, mixing it well. Let’s see if the mighty king of Rajasthan can handle this fire.

When the dish arrived at the table, Veeresh dug in without hesitation. The first bite lit his throat aflame. Heat rushed to his eyes, sweat pricked his forehead, and his chest burned. But he didn’t drop his fork. Instead, he chewed slowly, defiantly.

Bakshi chuckled. “Spicy, but brilliant!” He wiped his mouth. “I’ll take my leave, sir. We’ll finalize next week.”

The moment Bakshi exited, Veeresh’s composure cracked. He stood abruptly, chair scraping back, and made his way to the restroom, his throat raging as if fire itself had taken root.

–––

Poornima followed silently, her pulse oddly quick. When she stepped into the restroom, she found him gripping the sink, shirt collar tugged loose, breaths heavy and uneven.

“Veeresh…” she whispered, stepping closer.

He glanced up at her through the mirror, eyes bloodshot but sharp with something more than pain.

Before she could think twice, she pulled him by his collar and pressed her lips to his. The kiss was urgent, cooling fire with fire, her soft lips against his searing breath. For a moment, it was only heat, taste, and the echo of everything unspoken.

Veeresh responded instantly, hand sliding to her waist, pulling her against him, deepening the kiss until the world ceased to exist.

But Poornima was the one to break away, chest rising, cheeks flushed. Her lips curved faintly, though her eyes glistened. “Sorry,” she murmured, voice trembling but defiant. “I just took my revenge—for all the ways you hurt me.”

Veeresh, breathless and burning, let out a low chuckle. His lips brushed her ear as he murmured, “I have low tolerance, Mrs. Raj. But for you? It’s okay.”