---

The morning sun spilled through the curtains, soft and golden — the kind of light that used to make Poornima Chowdary feel alive. But today, it just reminded her of everything she’d lost.

Her head throbbed faintly. The night before was a blur — tears, whiskey, rain… and a stranger’s arms that felt far too safe.

A kiss. Her first kiss.

Her heart twisted as the memory flashed — his cold scent, his stillness, his silence.

Who was he?

She didn’t know.

And she didn’t want to.

Poornima stood before the mirror, tying her hair into a neat ponytail, trying to look like nothing had happened — like her world hadn’t just fallen apart. She wore a simple white kurti, minimal makeup, and that calm, kind smile she always carried to hide her storms.

She glanced at her phone. Twenty-seven missed calls.

All from Simon.

Her chest tightened.

Once, that name had meant everything — love, safety, dreams.

Now it tasted like betrayal.

Without thinking twice, she opened the chat, deleted everything, blocked his number, and whispered to herself,

> “No more tears. No more love.”

She slipped her phone into her bag, grabbed her books, and stepped out of the house.

---

The college campus buzzed as usual — laughter, chaos, assignments, gossip. But Poornima felt distant, like she was walking through noise that no longer reached her.

Her best friend waved from the corner.

“Poornima! You okay?”

She forced a small smile. “Yeah… just tired.”

But in truth, she wasn’t tired. She was done. Done being naïve, done believing words that sounded like promises but meant nothing.

Her only focus now was her dream — London Business School. She wanted to earn it, live it, build her own empire far from anyone’s shadow.

> “I’ll go there,” she thought, flipping through her economics notes. “I’ll make something of myself. And I’ll never let anyone break me again.”

The determination in her eyes burned brighter than her heartbreak.

But what Poornima didn’t know — what she couldn’t even imagine — was that she wasn’t walking alone.

Across the road, parked beneath the shade of a banyan tree, sat a sleek black car. Inside, two men watched her every move, speaking softly into earpieces.

> “Target leaving college premises,” one murmured.

“Copy that. Mr. Deewan said keep your distance. She shouldn’t notice.”

Poornima passed by them, completely unaware of the eyes following her — the invisible wall of protection and danger around her.

To her, she was just another student with a broken heart and big dreams.

But to Veeresh Deewan, she had already become an obsession wrapped in innocence.

---

In another part of the city, Veeresh sat in his glass-walled office, reading through reports as Raghav’s voice came through the phone.

> “She blocked Simon Roy. Ignoring all contact. Seems focused on her studies.”

A flicker of amusement crossed Veeresh’s face.

London Business School,” he muttered, glancing at her file again. “She wants the world, huh?”

He leaned back in his chair, eyes dark with interest.

“Let her chase her dreams. I just want to see how long she can fly… before I clip her wings.”