POORNIMA CHOWDARY — the kind of girl who could make the sun jealous of her warmth.

At 21, she ruled the Commerce Department of her college — not with arrogance, but with that easy grace that made people stop and stare. Her laughter? It had a way of melting even the coldest hearts. Her kindness? It wasn’t showy — it was quiet, gentle, the kind that made people believe in good again.

But not everyone adored her. Her brothers, bound by pride and old traditions, saw her intelligence as rebellion. Her dreams were too big, her words too bold. And maybe… her heart was too fearless.

Because Poornima wasn’t like other girls — she fell for danger dressed in charm. For a man whose name whispered power across continents — Simon Roy, the mysterious European mafia heir with eyes like winter and a smile that promised chaos.

In a world that told her to obey, she chose to love.

And that single choice changed everything.

SIMON ROY — the name that carried both charm and danger across the streets of Europe.

At 31, he was the kind of man the world mistook for a hero — tall, sharp-suited, and disarmingly calm, with a voice that could soothe your fears even as he planned your downfall.

To the world, he was a business tycoon.

To the underworld, he was a mafia king — ruthless, calculated, and cold as marble.

And to Poornima Chowdary, he was everything she ever dreamed of.

Her savior. Her hero. Her forever.

But Simon Roy was built on lies — every smile a secret, every promise a sin. Behind the charming mask lived a man addicted to control, betrayal, and power. He could hold you close and still hide a thousand scandals behind his back.

He was the kind of man who could destroy you — and still make you beg for him.

VEERESH DEEWAN — a name whispered, never spoken aloud.

In the underworld of India, he wasn’t a man — he was a myth carved in blood and fear. A shadow in a tailored suit, the kind of presence that made even bullets hesitate before reaching him.

He didn’t walk — he commanded the ground beneath his feet.

He didn’t speak — he ordered with silence.

And when he looked at you… you didn’t dare look back.

Born in chaos, built by vengeance — Veeresh had no place for softness. His veins pulsed with power, not emotion. Love was weakness, and weakness had no space in his world. He ruled with cold precision — his hands that once knew warmth now only knew control, destruction, and dominance.

He was the kind of villain who didn’t care to be understood — the kind who could burn an empire just to feel the heat against his skin.

Every empire feared him.

Every enemy bowed to him.

Every loyalist worshipped him.

Because Veeresh Deewan wasn’t a man chasing power — he was power.

And behind that ruthless calm hid a storm so dark, it could consume anyone foolish enough to step too close.

He didn’t believe in happy endings.

He believed in owning the ending.

But fate had a cruel sense of humor — because even a man made of darkness can’t hide forever from the light that threatens to break him.

And when Poornima entered his world — soft, pure, unguarded — something inside the monster stirred.

Not redemption.

Not love.

Just a dangerous obsession that could destroy them both.