Chapter 12 — The Devil’s Quiet Night

The penthouse had fallen completely silent.

Only the faint city lights entered through the glass walls, painting the dark room in shades of gold and shadow.

Veeresh carefully pulled the duvet over Poornima’s sleeping form before wearing his shirt again. Every movement of his was unusually gentle, almost unfamiliar even to himself.

Poornima shifted slightly in her sleep, exhausted, peaceful.

He stared at her for a long moment.

Then Veeresh walked toward the balcony, lighting a cigarette as the cold midnight wind brushed against him. The city below never slept, yet for the first time in years, his mind had gone strangely still.

Dangerous feeling.

His eyes drifted back toward the room.

Toward her.

His rival.

Poornima Rathore.

A woman who should have hated him.

Yet tonight she had trusted him completely.

Veeresh inhaled slowly, remembering every detail of the night — the way her body trembled beneath his touch, the way she held onto him like he was the only thing keeping her together, the tears that escaped her eyes when the weight inside her finally broke apart.

And the way she whispered only one name.

“Salvatore…”

Not once had she called him Veeresh.

Always Salvatore.

Like she had accepted every darkness inside him without fear.

His jaw tightened slightly.

Her first time.

And she had given it to the arch rival of her family.

To the devil himself.

Any other woman would have regretted crossing paths with a man like him. But Poornima had walked into his darkness willingly, almost desperately, asking him to erase her pain.

And somehow…

He had done exactly that.

Veeresh exhaled smoke into the cold air, his gaze hardening again.

Tonight, something had changed.

Not in her.

In him.

Because Salvatore Dreewan suddenly realized something dangerous—

Poornima Rathore’s soul no longer belonged to the Rathore family.

And after tonight, neither did her heart.