The morning sunlight spilled into the room like liquid gold, cutting through the heavy curtains and highlighting the faint bruise of shadows on Veeresh Deewan’s face. One week had passed — one agonizing, tense week — and now he was awake, his eyes sharp, alert, and piercing as always.

Poornima sat beside him, hands folded nervously in her lap. Her heart pounded in her chest. She had waited for this moment, rehearsing her words a thousand times, yet now that he was finally conscious, all the courage in her body seemed to shrink.

“Veeresh…” she whispered, voice soft, trembling. “I… I’m sorry.”

He didn’t move at first, only studied her with an intensity that made her feel naked under his gaze.

“For… deceiving you,” she continued, her fingers twisting the cap of the whiskey bottle she held out to him. “For trying to escape… I shouldn’t have done it. It was wrong.”

Veeresh’s eyes flicked to the bottle, then back to her. He said nothing, letting the weight of his silence press down on her.

“I… I won’t do it again,” she added quickly. “I promise. But… I want to finish my education. I want to study my master’s in London Business School. That’s all I want. Please…”

For a moment, the air was still. Poornima’s words hung like a fragile glass, trembling in the quiet.

Then, finally, Veeresh spoke.

“You can continue your education.”

His voice was low, controlled, but not unkind. “Go to London. Do your master’s. I accept your apology.”

Poornima’s eyes widened in surprise, and a rush of relief and happiness overcame her. A smile broke across her face, radiant and pure.

“Thank you,” she whispered, almost breathless.

Without thinking, she leaned forward and hugged him, burying her face into his chest, letting herself feel the strange warmth of the man who terrified and obsessed her in equal measure.

Veeresh froze. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t control the situation. The contact startled him — her softness, her trust, the way she let herself melt against him.

Yet he didn’t hug her back.

He didn’t move.

He simply let her hug him, stiff, unreadable, and even as his heart clenched in ways he didn’t admit, his face remained a mask.

“Go on,” he said finally, his tone clipped but not harsh. “Focus on your studies. That’s all you need to do for now.”

Poornima pulled back slightly, searching his eyes for any sign of warmth, and then nodded.

“I will,” she whispered, a mix of relief and happiness flooding her.

Veeresh watched her leave the room, her steps light and careful, a stark contrast to the storm he carried inside. Something had shifted — subtly, imperceptibly — and though he wouldn’t admit it, the obsession that had always lived quietly within him now had a new dimension: a protective, possessive curiosity that refused to let her go entirely.

For now, she had her freedom.

But the devil always remembered what was his.