The ride to the party was painfully quiet.

Poornima sat in the backseat, her posture straight, her expression calm—too calm. Her eyes never lifted from her phone. Not once did she glance at the man sitting opposite her. Not even accidentally.

Veeresh, as always, sat on the left side, diagonally positioned so he could keep both her and the road in view. His eyes kept shifting between the outside and her reflection on the car window.

She didn’t acknowledge him.

Not even as just another human being inside the same car.

It didn’t bother him…

That’s what he told himself.

But the silence felt heavier than the gun he carried.

Agasthya sat between them, but even he sensed the shift. He looked at Veeresh once, eyebrows lifting slightly as if asking—“She’s still mad?”

Veeresh gave no reaction. His face remained the same unreadable iron mask.

When they reached the party, Poornima stepped out without waiting for him to open the door. The guard assigned to the venue hurried forward, but she simply adjusted her shawl and walked ahead.

Her perfume drifted in the air for a moment—warm, dark, a little sophisticated.

Not the sweet girly scent she wore years ago.

Veeresh followed, maintaining professional distance. His steps were soundless, his gaze sharp, scanning every corner, every suspicious movement, every face in the crowd.

Poornima didn’t spare him a single glance.

She spoke to guests, laughed softly at their jokes, discussed her work in London with businessmen and ministers. She looked… composed. Intelligent. Confident. Beautiful in a way that struck like a blade.

But she didn’t look at him.

Not once.

Even when someone asked,

“Your bodyguard is impressive, Miss Rathore.”

She smiled politely—

“I don’t know. I don’t really notice him.”

And walked away.

Agasthya winced.

Veeresh stood like a stone pillar.

The party went long. Some men tried to approach her too confidently, and each time, Veeresh subtly stepped closer—no touching, no speaking, not even looking at her directly—just a silent shield.

But she ignored him like he was made of air.

When the event finally ended, she walked straight to the car. No waiting. No pause. No impatience—just a cold indifference that hurt far more than anger.

He opened the door because he had to. She got in without a word.

Agasthya joined her.

Veeresh sat in the front.

The car began moving.

Again—

Silence.

Poornima stared out the window, scrolling her phone occasionally, her expression blank. The city lights kept flashing across her face—cold, distant, untouchable.

Veeresh kept his eyes on the road, jaw clenched tight enough to hurt.

This wasn’t the girl who once chased behind him in the rain crying “I love you.”

This wasn’t the girl whose heart he had broken with ruthless words.

This wasn’t the girl who looked at him like he hung the stars.

No.

This was a woman who didn’t care.

Or at least pretended not to.

And Veeresh… had no right to feel anything about it.

When they reached home, she simply stepped out, closed the door gently, and walked in without turning back—even though he knew she sensed his presence behind her.

Agasthya gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before following her.

Veeresh remained outside for a moment, staring at the dark sky.

His chest felt tight.

He inhaled deeply, forcing the feeling away.

Forcing himself to become what he always was—

a weapon,

a shadow,

a man with no emotions.

But tonight…

for the first time in years…

He felt something.

Something sharp.

Something he had no right to feel.

And Poornima?

She didn’t even spare him a glance.