Veeresh Deewan wasn’t the kind of man who lost sleep over strangers.

He didn’t get curious. He didn’t wonder. He took what he wanted, destroyed what he hated, and forgot what didn’t matter.

But tonight — for reasons he didn’t understand — that girl’s trembling voice haunted him.

“You’re my first kiss…”

The memory of her tears, her warmth against his chest, refused to fade.

He sat in his office, high above the city, the lights of Mumbai glittering below like shattered diamonds. A glass of whiskey in his hand, his expression unreadable, his mind sharp and calculating as ever.

At precisely midnight, his right-hand man, Raghav, stepped in.

“Boss, you asked for the girl’s details.”

Veeresh turned slowly in his chair, the dim light catching his profile — sharp jaw, cold eyes, calm that could kill.

“Speak,” he ordered, voice like steel wrapped in silk.

Raghav placed a file on the table. “Name — Poornima Chowdary, twenty-one years old. Commerce student at Mumbai Central University. Lives with her parents and two elder brothers. Brothers are into local business — arrogant, protective, and, apparently, jealous of her.”

Veeresh raised a brow. “Jealous?”

“Yes, sir. The girl’s known for her intelligence, her grades, her reputation. Sweet-natured, quiet. Kind to everyone. But… a bit naïve.”

A faint smirk touched Veeresh’s lips. “Naïve,” he repeated slowly, as though tasting the word. “That explains it.”

Raghav hesitated, flipping through the pages. “She was in a relationship with a foreigner. Simon Roy.”

The moment the name dropped, Veeresh’s fingers stilled on the rim of his glass. His eyes narrowed, the faint amusement in them turning into something darker.

“Simon Roy?”

“Yes, sir. European businessman, though our sources confirm he’s linked to the European Mafia. Recently spotted in Mumbai. He’s… dangerous.”

Veeresh chuckled — low, mirthless. “Dangerous?” He leaned back, eyes glinting like fire under ice. “You’re talking about him to me, Raghav?”

The man swallowed, nodding quickly.

Veeresh looked out the window again, at the storm clouds forming over the skyline.

So, the girl who crashed into him — cried on him — belonged to that man.

The irony was delicious.

He picked up the file again, flipping through her photos. One of them — a candid college picture — caught his eye. Poornima, laughing with a book in her hand, unaware someone had captured the moment.

Something sharp twisted in his chest — annoyance, interest, he couldn’t tell.

> “So, Simon Roy,” he murmured, setting the file down. “You cheated on her, didn’t you? Tch… men like you never learn.”

A dangerous smile curved on his lips, cold and slow.

> “Let’s see how you handle it when I take what you threw away.”

He stood, straightening his cuffs.

> “Keep an eye on Poornima Chowdary. Discreetly. I want to know where she goes, who she meets, what she reads, what she dreams of. Everything.”

Raghav nodded instantly. “Yes, boss.”

As the door closed behind him, Veeresh looked once more at her photo — her soft smile, her innocence frozen in a world she didn’t belong to.

> “You have no idea, little girl,” he whispered under his breath, voice laced with something dangerous.

“You kissed the devil… and now the devil wants to know your name.”

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Would you like the next chapter to show Poornima’s point of view, where she wakes up confused, remembers the night, and later sees Veeresh again — not as a stranger, but as the man everyone fears?