The office was unusually quiet.
Avni glanced at the clock on her desk. It was nearly noon and her calendar, for once, looked deceptively empty. Two meetings had been canceled—back-to-back—and Priya hadn't booked anything in their place. Odd. She was rarely this free on a weekday, especially with the upcoming quarterly reviews looming.
She leaned back in her chair, tapping her pen against her notepad when Priya suddenly barged in, cheeks flushed, a folder clutched in her hands.
"Ma'am!" she panted. "An investor is here to see you. Allesandro Romano. Italian-Indian, apparently. Says he's here regarding the Delhi deal."
Avni blinked, sitting upright. "What? WAIT, Did you just say—Delhi?"
Priya nodded, confusion flickering on her face. "Yes, ma'am. From Romano Holdings. He's already waiting in the conference room."
For a moment, Avni froze. The Delhi deal was high-priority—no, critical—and she would never intentionally push it back or forget about it. But she'd received no notice of an in-person investor today. She didn't thought much about it as it was the delhi deal which can bring her company to first position.
Still, she stood swiftly, brushing imaginary creases off her blazer. "Alright. Bring coffee to the meeting room in ten. Double espresso for me."
Priya gave a sharp nod and hurried away, her heels clicking against the floor.
Avni smoothed her hair, composed her expression, and walked toward the meeting room. Despite the confusion, she couldn't risk letting a major deal slip. If this was real, it could lock her position as the frontrunner for the firm's top chair.
As she stepped into the room, she saw him.
Tall, poised, charismatic. The man turned slowly, his tailored charcoal suit clinging perfectly to his frame. His features were sharp, and his eyes—those eyes—held a familiar flicker of amusement and something darker beneath. His lips curled into a smile that could melt glaciers.
"You must be Miss Avni Mehra," the man said in a refined accent, extending his hand. "Allesandro Romano."
Avni straightened her posture and stepped forward. "Yes. Welcome to MEHRA CORP, Mr. Romano."
He smiled, a perfect blend of charm and professionalism. "It's a pleasure."
She took his hand, and for a brief second, everything stilled.
His handshake was firm—but as their palms met, there was something else. The warmth of his skin, the brush of his thumb over her knuckles—so brief, yet oddly intimate. His touch lingered just a heartbeat longer than necessary, sending a ripple of something unfamiliar—unsettling—down her spine.
TIME SKIP:
Avni stood beside the digital screen, her pointer gliding across graphs and projections. Her voice was sharp, confident—every word calculated. "As you can see, Mr. Romano, the Delhi project has the potential to double ROI within the first quarter of launch. We've already acquired partial government clearance, and I've scheduled site visits for next week—"
"But…" Allesandro interrupted gently, reclining just slightly in his chair, his expression unreadable.
That one word ignited something in her. Her brows furrowed, and she dropped the pointer onto the table with a small thud.
"If you're not interested in this deal," she said, her voice rising with frustration, "then don't take it. I don't have time to convince someone who isn't serious."
Silence.
Avni's heart pounded—partly from the heat of her own anger, partly from the creeping thought that she had just ruined a career-defining opportunity. Her shoulders stiffened as she watched him rise from his chair.
He's walking away… Great. You've messed this up, Avni.
But to her surprise, he didn't head for the door.
Abhimanyu—still masked as Allesandro—took slow, deliberate steps toward her. His eyes never left hers, filled with a calm intensity that caught her off guard.
Kitni pyaari lagti hai gussa karte hue… he thought silently, a small smirk playing at the corners of his lips.
She instinctively stepped back, only to bump against the edge of the conference table. He didn't stop. His presence was magnetic, invading her space with the kind of quiet boldness that made her breath hitch.
"I—what are you—" she started.
But he gently placed a finger over her lips, silencing her. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through her spine.
He leaned closer, and she found herself slowly sinking into the chair behind her, unable to look away from those hypnotic eyes. His hand rose, brushing back a strand of her hair. Fingers trailed delicately down the side of her face, tracing her jawline as if memorizing it.
She stiffened. No… he shouldn't be touching me.
Her mind screamed, This is inappropriate. Unacceptable. Wrong. She had a boyfriend. This wasn't how she handled business. This wasn't who she was.
But then—why didn't she move?
Because somehow… somehow, his touch didn't feel wrong. It felt warm. Inviting. Familiar in a way that it shouldn't.
No. This isn't right. This can't be happening.
Avni's lips parted to speak—to push him away, to demand an explanation—but before she could utter a single syllable, the door swung open.
"Ma'am, I brought the cof—"
Priya halted mid-sentence, tray in hand, eyes widening as she took in the charged air of the room. Her gaze flicked from Avni's stunned expression to Allesandro's composed demeanor.
Abhimanyu, still pretending to be the suave Italian investor, simply straightened his blazer and offered a calm, charming smile."The deal is secure from my side," he said casually, as though nothing unusual had occurred. "It will be a pleasure working on this project with you."
He nodded once, then turned and walked out, not sparing another glance.
The silence in the room was thick. Priya quietly placed the tray down, pretending not to notice anything unusual.
Avni's fingers trembled slightly as she picked up her phone from the table. Her heart was racing, her thoughts tangled and messy. She stared at the screen for a few seconds, then typed.
To: Siya 💬
Some Italian investor just showed up out of nowhere… said he's backing the Delhi deal. And the worst part? Something feels off…
She hit send and sank into her chair, still dazed, still confused, still shaken.
What the hell just happened?
Abhimanyu's POV — Earlier that Morning
Two floors below her office, behind a mirrored wall in the security room, Abhimanyu Singh Rathore stared at the monitor. Cameras displayed every hallway, every room—her movements.
"She's alone," Matteo Ricci said behind him. "Just like you arranged."
Abhimanyu's jaw ticked. "She looks peaceful," he murmured.
He ran a finger over her frozen image on the screen.
"Mujhse door rehkar saans lena bhi ek gunaah hai." he whispered in Hindi.(Breathing away from me is a sin.)
He turned to Matteo.
"Today she meets the mask," he said. "Tomorrow, the man."
Abhimanyu's POV — After Leaving Her Office
The wind hit him as he exited her building. Thinking, She was close. Inches away. Her scent still lingered on his fingertips.
His lips twisted into a smile as he stepped into the black SUV waiting for him.
"Did you hear her voice, Matteo?" he murmured, eyes half-closed."Soft. Curious. Unsure. I wanted to pin her against that damn glass wall and make her scream my name."
"You didn't."
"No," he growled. "Not yet."
He stared at his reflection in the window, but saw only her.
"La toccherò di nuovo. E la prossima volta… non potrà scappare."(I'll touch her again. And next time… she won't be able to run.)
Later that night:
Just as Avni was about to drift into sleep, her phone buzzed.
A message.From a dear friend—and trusted business partner.Polite. Elegant. Vague.
"See you tomorrow night. Dress sharp."A single location pin. No further details.
Avni stared at the screen, puzzled.A party?This wasn't like her friend to be so cryptic.
She placed the phone on her nightstand, a strange feeling blooming in her chest.
What exactly was she walking into? And why did it feel like that tomorrow's night would change everything?