---

The music and laughter of the party flowed around Poornima like a river of lights and shadows. Veeresh had excused himself, disappearing into the restroom, leaving her momentarily alone in the sea of glances, whispered compliments, and veiled ambitions.

Simon, ever bold, approached her with that smug, arrogant smile that used to make her heart ache.

> “So… did he make you happy?” Simon asked, leaning a little too close. “Did you… satisfy the underworld don?”

Poornima’s lips curled into a small, confident smile. She looked at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief and disdain.

> “You really are hopeless, Simon,” she said softly, almost amused. “Veeresh is much better than you. He respects boundaries, never misbehaves, we talk… I flirt with him, and, most importantly, he’s not a cheater like you.”

Simon blinked, caught off guard. “Not a cheater?” he repeated, incredulous.

Poornima shook her head, a small laugh escaping her lips.

> “Yes, Simon. And sure, he married me… forcefully. But let me tell you — the best thing that ever happened to me in life is that my husband is a gentleman.”

Simon’s lips twitched, a mixture of disbelief and mockery. “Gentleman? The underworld don?”

Poornima’s smile widened, her eyes glinting with fire.

> “For the world, yes — he is the devil of the underworld. But for me? He is a thorough gentleman. A man who knows how to respect me.”

She leaned slightly closer, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper.

> “One word about him… one hint of disrespect, Simon, and I will not be quiet.”

Simon’s confident facade faltered. Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving her smiling lightly, calm, and unshaken.

---

From across the hall, hidden in the shadows near the bar, Veeresh had overheard every word. Every compliment, every acknowledgment, every declaration of respect — it cut through the iron walls he had built around himself.

The word “gentleman” echoed in his mind, repeating like a soft drumbeat over the harsh rhythm of his life. A strange warmth rose in his chest — confusion mixed with pride, possessiveness, and something he refused to name.

He stood there for a long moment, silent, watching her laugh lightly with friends, teasing the world with her charm, and the thought struck him harder than any deal, any gun, any empire ever could:

> She sees me differently. She doesn’t fear me. She trusts me. She respects me. And… she calls me a gentleman.

Veeresh’s lips curved slightly, a rare, unguarded smile. That single word — “gentleman” — would stay with him for the rest of the night, haunting, thrilling, and oddly comforting, reminding him of the woman who had learned to tame the devil of his world with nothing but her wit, charm, and fearless heart.