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The corporate office was sleek, sharp, and intimidating — the kind of place most people feared to enter. But Poornima Chowdary walked through the glass doors with quiet confidence, her books clutched against her chest, her mind sharp and focused.

She had applied for the internship in Veeresh Deewan’s company on her own, without asking for any help. And when she cleared the interview, the satisfaction in her heart was deeper than she expected.

Veeresh, watching from his private office on the top floor, allowed himself a rare smile. His Ruby, independent, smart, and determined, had done this all on her own. No influence, no connections, no shortcuts. Just her talent and courage.

> “She’s mine,” he whispered softly, almost unconsciously, the possessive edge to his voice unmistakable.

Back at home, life settled into an unusual rhythm — a rhythm that neither of them expected. Poornima, in her last semester, excelled in her studies, her focus sharper than ever. She spent her days in lectures and internships, and her nights with Veeresh, the man who had once terrified her, now softened in the glow of domesticity.

Every night, she waited for him. Every night, she prepared dinner and served it with care. And every night, Veeresh, the cold, ruthless underworld king, allowed himself to be part of this simple ritual.

> “Ruby,” he said one evening as she placed a plate in front of him, his voice low and smooth, the single word carrying weight and warmth.

She smiled, cheeks tinged with pink, and shared stories from her day — the funny things her classmates did, a project that had gone wrong, a professor who had made a joke she didn’t understand until later.

Veeresh listened quietly, his dark eyes softening. And when it was his turn, he spoke of his day — the deals, the meetings, the chaos — and she listened, attentive, never interrupting, absorbing the glimpses of the world he ruled with such cold precision.

It was a strange balance. She brought light into his dark world, and he offered her a strength she had never known.

And night after night, as she served him, smiled at his stories, and shared her victories, Veeresh’s cold walls began to melt, almost imperceptibly.

He could still be ruthless, sharp, dangerous — the Veeresh Deewan the world feared.

But to Ruby, he was learning to be something else.

A man who could listen.

A man who could care.

A man whose obsession now carried an unexpected softness, reserved only for her.

And Poornima, for the first time in her life, felt at home in the heart of the devil — not as a prisoner, but as someone who belonged, quietly, irrevocably, in his shadow.