...LET ME GIVE A INTRODUCTION FIRST.....

...There are two main characters in here...

The male lead—undeniably the most handsome, enigmatic man you'll ever lay eyes on. Cold as ice on the outside, he rarely lets anyone glimpse what lies beneath. He poured his soul into the company, working day and night until it stood at the top of the world. And now? He’s the CEO. But his success came at a price. Behind that sharp gaze lies a past shrouded in mystery—fragmented memories from a childhood he can't quite recall, a darkness that still lingers in the corners of his mind.

The female lead—yes, that’s me—is a soft-hearted girl with a quiet strength. Life hasn’t been a fairytale for her either. Growing up in a middle-class family with three overprotective brothers wasn’t easy, but the love of her father made everything feel lighter. He would get her whatever she needed—even things she never asked for. Though she's pretty, she's not one for the spotlight. Parties? Not her scene. Raised in a deeply religious household, her life came with a list of restrictions: no late nights, no trips with friends, and plenty more that you’ll uncover as the story unfolds.

So… let’s begin this journey!

I’m Sara Lance. Not a topper, not a failure just somewhere in the middle, floating between dreams and deadlines. Music is my escape; it’s the one thing that understands me when words fail. After battling through the grueling tides of medical exams, I finally made it I passed. It wasn’t a first-try miracle like some, but I held on, and that’s what matters.

I took admission in a medical college far from my hometown. Coming from a place where minds are often closed and traditions run deep, it felt like stepping into another world. But I adjusted. I endured. I grew. Just when I started to find my rhythm and focus on building my career, life being the unpredictable teacher it is pulled me back.

My father was hospitalized. A heart disease, serious enough to shake our entire family. I rushed home. Thankfully, the doctors managed to stabilize him. But just as we took a breath of relief, my mother fell ill perhaps from the stress, or maybe from silently holding the weight of everything on her shoulders for so long. I was scared, exhausted, and constantly worrying. But giving up? Not an option.

I have three brothers. Adam, the eldest, is in his final year of college, currently hunting for jobs but emotionally distant. He rarely involves himself in family matters, and to be honest, I stopped expecting him to. Then there’s Jamie, my twin—a year younger in spirit, though we were born together. He’s in second year of engineering college. Unlike Adam, Jamie steps up for our parents whenever he can. Waseem, the youngest, is still in school innocent, full of questions, and mostly lost in his own little world. He’s too young to carry burdens, and I pray he never has to.

My brothers, like most guys their age, are obsessed with games and surprise, their obsession rubbed off on me. I now game more than I chat, pose for selfies, or chase social media trends like most girls in my circle. Sometimes I wonder if I’m weird for preferring fantasy quests over filters, but honestly? I love this quirky side of me. It feels… freeing.

Right now, my life is a balancing act ,studies, family, and an ongoing attempt to not crash under pressure. But I believe I’ve got this. Trouble will come, sure, but I’ll find my way through.

Sometimes I wish life was like the movies simple, glittery, carefree. Where people ace exams after pulling one all-nighter, and everything magically falls into place. But that’s not my reality. I had to return to college because semester exams are knocking, and this time, I want to be ready.

I’ve been burning the midnight oil in the library with friends. Group studies are amazing… if we actually study, that is. And oh, the mnemonics I make wild, ridiculous, borderline inappropriate! If anyone overheard them, they'd probably think I’ve lost it. But hey, if it helps me remember, then it works, right?

One evening, we were heading back from the library, the air heavy with the scent of upcoming rain. My legs felt like jelly from hours of studying, and honestly, I was too drained to even think about walking another step.

“We’re going to grab some snacks, come with us!” my friend insisted.

“No, just go. I’ll wait here,” I said, plopping down on a low wall. “I can’t walk any longer.”

Monisha turned to me, half stern, half concerned. “Okay, but don’t go anywhere. We’ll be right back.”

As they disappeared around the corner, I suddenly remembered—I needed notebooks. Mine were filled to the last page. I groaned at my forgetfulness. How typical… refusing to walk, yet here I am, walking alone like a complete idiot.

I spotted a small stationery shop nearby and went in. The soft glow of the lights and the quiet hum of the ceiling fan greeted me. I picked out a few notebooks, paid for them, and just as I stepped toward the exit—I noticed the rain.

It wasn’t a drizzle. It was a full-on, curtain-of-water kind of rain.

So, I lingered. I wandered through the aisles, pretending to be interested in the new arrivals, but nothing caught my eye. The designs were too loud for my taste. Bored, I turned back toward the front desk and noticed a basket full of chocolates sweet salvation.

I grabbed a few, paid again, and unwrapped one with a little too much enthusiasm. The sugary sweetness melted on my tongue as I gazed out the glass door. The rain danced like silver threads under the streetlight, and cars passed by with glowing headlights.

That’s when I saw him.

A man tall, lean, and moving fast cutting through the rain like a shadow. His features were blurred by the downpour, his silhouette haunting under the stormy sky. I couldn’t explain it, but I stood there frozen, watching him like he was part of some dream I wasn’t supposed to wake from.

And then— bam.

The next thing I knew, we collided. My notebooks flew out of my hands, and I staggered backward.

“What the hell? Are you blind?!” the man snapped, his voice sharp as broken glass. “Idiot! Stupid girl!”

My mouth fell open in shock, the chocolate half-melted on my tongue. The world around me blurred for a second not from the rain, but from the rush of adrenaline and embarrassment. I blinked, stunned, staring up at the man whose anger burned hotter than the storm.

My eyes locked onto him and for a second, the world stood still. He was... breathtaking. Sharp jawline, dark drenched hair clinging to his forehead, eyes that flickered with a fire I couldn’t quite place. There was something so magnetic about him, I didn't even realize how long I had been staring until the store bell chimed behind us, snapping me back to reality.

God, how long was I just standing here gawking? So embarrassing...

In a flustered attempt to cover it up, I blurted, “This is your fault! Who runs like that in the rain? Are you a thief or something? Running away from someone?”

He narrowed his eyes at me, clearly not amused. “Huh? That’s none of your business. Apologize to me. Now.”

His tone was icy stern, commanding. And maybe I should’ve backed down… but that’s just not who I am.

I straightened up and shot back, “Why should I? You’re the one who rammed into me! Don’t flip this around. If anything, you owe me an apology, you idiot.”

His eyes widened slightly, and I could see the fire in his flare.

“How dare you call me that,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

A smirk tugged at my lips. I was enjoying this more than I should. “Oh, I can call you worse. Let’s see… donkey? Fat head? Brain-dead mannequin with an ego the size of Jupiter?”

His jaw clenched. “I will see you,” he warned, voice thick with restrained fury like he wasn’t sure whether to yell or laugh or drag me straight to the police station.

I raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Well, take a picture, it’ll last longer. I don’t have time to waste arguing with someone who thinks yelling is a personality trait.”

And with that, I turned on my heel, snatching my notebooks from the wet ground with as much dignity as I could muster.

Behind me, I heard him mutter something under his breath but I didn’t care. Whoever he is… I hope I never see that arrogant jerk again.

I walked toward the exit the rain had already stopped, leaving behind the scent of wet earth and the soft glisten of water on the streets. The world looked calmer now, as if the storm never happened. My heart, however, was still racing from that ridiculous encounter.

Just outside the shop, I spotted my friends waiting under the streetlight, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

“There you are!” Monisha called out. “Where have you been?”

I tucked a damp strand of hair behind my ear and tried to sound casual. “I needed to grab some notebooks. Then it started pouring, so I waited it out inside.”

She squinted at me. “Waited it out? You look like you just walked out of a drama scene.”

I laughed nervously. “Trust me, it felt like one.”

“Ugh, never mind. Let’s go! We’re already running late!” another friend chimed in, tugging at my arm.

As we started walking, I glanced over my shoulder one last time—toward the shop, toward the street, toward him—but the shadowy figure had vanished.

Good riddance, I thought. Or… maybe not?

UNKNOWN:

I watched her walk off with her noisy little group, still half-wet, still half-smirking from that ridiculous exchange. My phone buzzed in my pocket, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“I’m at a shop,” I muttered, answering the call while casually picking out a few towels from a shelf nearby. I paid and started drying myself off, the fabric rough but warm.

But my mind wasn’t on the towels. It was on her.

Who talks like that? Who dares to talk to me like that?

She was bold, loud, ridiculous… and strangely intriguing.

Just then, my bodyguards stepped into the shop, looking a bit frantic.

“Sir, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” I replied coolly, brushing past them. “What about the deal? Is it done?”

One of my assistants stepped forward. “Yes, sir. The moment they heard your name, the contract was signed no questions asked.”

A smirk tugged at my lips. “Good. Let’s head home.”

Soon, I was seated in my black Mercedes, its leather interior smelling faintly of rain and power. I flipped open the tablet on my lap, scanning through the upcoming contracts.

“Drive,” I ordered.

My driver hesitated for a second before glancing at me in the rearview mirror. “Sir… if you don’t mind me asking, how did you get all wet and dirty?”

I didn’t look up from the screen. “I ran into someone. Literally. A girl.”

There was a beat of silence.

The driver coughed lightly. “Was she… pretty, sir?”

I allowed a slow, amused breath. “She was more like… a pig in a bookstore. Loud. Messy. Impossible.”

The driver chuckled. “I see, sir.”

“Focus on the road,” I said curtly, though the edge in my voice had softened.

But as the city lights blurred past the windows and the hum of the engine lulled the world into silence, I found my mind wandering again—back to her.

As the car turned off the winding coastal road, the villa came into view, an elegant white structure perched on the cliff side, its terracotta roof glowing in the moonlight. Tall cypress trees lined the driveway, and a stone fountain murmured softly in the courtyard. From the balcony, the sea stretched endlessly, its waves whispering secrets only the villa had heard for centuries. It wasn’t just a house it was a haven, a quiet escape where time slowed down and hearts could breathe again.

“We’ve arrived, sir,” the driver announced, pulling the sleek black Mercedes to a stop in front of the grand estate.

I stepped out without a word, the cold night air brushing against my damp clothes. My footsteps echoed across the polished red marble as I entered the house each step slow, calculated. Moonlight poured in through the tall windows, casting long shadows along the walls. I glanced at my reflection in the glass tired, damp, and vaguely menacing. I liked how I looked tonight. Unreachable. Untouchable.

Until a startled gasp snapped me back to reality.

The maid stood frozen in the hallway, eyes wide, lips parted. Her gaze swept over my rain-soaked shirt, the bruised edge of my wrist, the tousled hair.

“Oh my God! Young master, what happened to you?” she gasped, rushing forward with genuine concern.

“It’s nothing,” I replied dryly, waving a dismissive hand. “Just make me some food.”

She hesitated, still watching me closely. “Have you… been in a fight?” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Did someone hit you? Or… oh dear, did you fall for a girl and she… did this to you?”

I stopped mid-step. A muscle ticked in my jaw.

“Please keep your wild observations to yourself,” I said sharply, and continued up the stairs.

Why must my mother hire people like her? Nosy, loud, and utterly exhausting.

Meanwhile

The maid picked up the phone, hands trembling dramatically as she dialed.

“Madam! Madam, something has happened to the young master!” she cried, nearly sobbing.

My mother’s voice shot back instantly. “What?! What do you mean something happened?”

“He looks terrible, like someone beat him up! I think… I think he’s been in a fight! Or worse… a girl might’ve rejected him!”

“What?! I’m coming right now!”

———

I changed into a robe and ran a towel through my damp hair. The warmth of the fabric was a welcome contrast to the night’s chill, but my thoughts were anything but calm.

I descended the stairs and sat at the dining table, my presence alone enough to make the maid jump. “Bring the food,” I ordered flatly.

“Yes, young master,” she squeaked, quickly placing the dishes before me.

I poked at the meal, appetite fading. My mind kept drifting back to her.

Those eyes… round, alert, impossibly curious. The way they scanned me confused, startled… hungry, almost. Like she was trying to figure me out. Like she could.

There was something about her. She wasn’t like the girls I’d met in boardrooms or charity galas. She was chaos in a cotton kurti. Infuriating. Impossible. And yet…

Why can’t I get her out of my head?

The doorbell rang, snapping me out of my thoughts.

Moments later, the unmistakable clack of heels echoed through the marble hall. I looked up just as she stepped in, elegance and fury radiating off her like perfume.

“…Mom?” My voice dropped, surprised.

She took one look at me—hair damp, eyes tired, robe casually tied—and the drama began.

I saw my mother standing at the door, her face tight with worry, eyes scanning me head to toe.

“Oh my Arthur! What on earth happened?” she exclaimed, rushing over, her voice thick with concern.

“Mom, calm down. Nothing happened,” I said, taking her hands gently, trying to steady her.

“Don’t lie to me. The maid told me everything!” she shot back, her tone accusing.

I frowned. “What exactly did she tell you?”

“That you got into a fight… that someone beat you up! Are you hurt? Let me see.” She began frantically checking my arms and shoulders for injuries.

“Mom, seriously, don’t believe everything she says. She overreacted like always,” I said, casting a pointed glance at the maid, who suddenly found great interest in the floor tiles.

“Why would she say something like that for no reason?” Mom asked, confused but still alarmed.

“Sit down,” I said, pulling out a chair for her.

She took a seat, eyes still darting around my face for signs of hidden wounds. I sat beside her and explained everything the rain, the rushed trip into the shop, the soaked clothes, the misunderstanding.

By the time I finished, her expression had softened, but not completely.

“Mom? Say something.”

Without a word, she stood and turned toward the maid, her voice sharp and authoritative. “Next time, before jumping to conclusions and calling me in a panic confirm what actually happened!”

The maid flinched. “Y-yes, Madam. I’m sorry.”

My mother huffed, brushing the matter off with a flick of her hand. Then her eyes lit up with that mischievous sparkle she wore far too well.

“So… was the girl at least pretty?”

I blinked at her, utterly thrown. “Mom…”

“What? I’m just asking. No need to get all defensive!” she said with a playful grin.

Suppressing a sigh, I pulled out my phone and called the driver. “Drive my mother back home.”

Mom rose from her chair and walked over to me. She cupped my face lovingly, placed a kiss on my cheek, and whispered, “Take care of my baby boy, okay?”

“Go home, Mom,” I said, barely holding back a smile as the driver led her out.

Once the door closed, I turned toward the maid, who was still standing awkwardly in the corner.

“You’re quite skilled at spinning stories, aren’t you?” I said coolly.

She didn’t speak.

I stepped closer, keeping a respectful but deliberate distance. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

She dropped her gaze. “I’m sorry, young master. It won’t happen again.”

“Good,” I replied flatly, then turned and made my way upstairs.

The moment I hit the bed, I let out a long breath. “What a day…”

I slid under the sheets, exhausted but restless. My eyes stared up at the ceiling, unmoving. Her face flashed in my mind again.... those wide, defiant eyes, the way she had stared at me without flinching, the way her lips parted as if caught off guard. She’s pretty… annoyingly pretty.

I scowled and turned to my side. What is this? What kind of spell did she cast on me? I couldn’t get her out of my head.

Maybe she infected me…

I closed my eyes, trying to will her image away.

But the night had its own plans.

There was snow. A blinding white landscape. Something shone glinting beneath the frost. But just like always, I couldn’t make it out. It was right there… and yet unreachable.

I woke up, breath caught in my throat, the familiar chill of that nightmare still clinging to my skin.

Sitting up, I rubbed my face. That dream again… same as every time. No matter how many doctors, no matter how many hypnosis sessions I still can’t remember.

With a sigh, I turned on some soft instrumental music. Let it drown the noise in my head.

I sank back into the pillows, letting the melody carry me away.

...NEXT MORNING...

The alarm buzzed sharply, slicing through the early morning silence. I stretched languidly, shaking off the remnants of sleep, and made my way to the shower. No gym today the restless night had stolen any chance of energy. The dream still echoed faintly in my mind.

After a long, hot shower, I dressed in a black, perfectly tailored suit. It clung to me like armor, polished and crisp, the exact aura I needed for today’s meeting.

I stepped downstairs, the faint scent of freshly brewed coffee already in the air.

“Prepare my breakfast,” I told the maid, not looking up from the papers I had already begun scanning at the dining table.

As she moved to the kitchen, the rustle of paper and the deliberate click of my pen filled the vast room. Numbers. Names. Contracts. Nothing escaped my scrutiny.

Once finished, I grabbed my briefcase and walked out. The black Mercedes waited like a silent beast. I climbed in without a word, eyes on the road as we began moving.

Through the blur of morning traffic and gray-tinted windows, something caught my eye.

Her.

She stood at the corner, dressed in a pink gym outfit lined with white threading, her ponytail bouncing as she laughed with a group of friends. The sun hit her face just right, catching the gleam in her eyes. She looked carefree… annoyingly so.

I narrowed my gaze just as the scenery shifted, swallowed by towering buildings.

“Sir, we’ve arrived,” the driver said.

I nodded, stepping out and entering the building with a silence that screamed authority.

Inside the boardroom, the atmosphere was tense. I didn’t sit. I didn’t need to.

“What happened to the contract?” My voice cut across the room like a blade.

One of the directors cleared his throat nervously. “We’re not sure, sir. We only just received the update—things have taken a turn.”

A cold silence followed.

“Griffith. My office. Now.”

Minutes later, the door creaked open and Griffith walked in, calm as ever. His presence was a rare comfort—my most trusted man, and one of the few who dared speak to me without fear.

“What’s the play?” he asked, folding his arms, already reading the tension in my expression.

I tossed the folder onto the table. “You know what to do. Find me everything who’s behind this, what strings were pulled, and how deep it goes. I want no surprises.”

Griffith nodded once. “Consider it done.”

I watched him leave, then turned to the window. The city stretched endlessly beneath me, yet for some reason… my thoughts weren’t in power, or the broken contract.

They were on a girl in pink.

Just who the hell are you?

SARA

“Sara, get up already!”

Voices pierced my dream, dragging me back to reality. I groaned, still clinging to the last fragments of sleep.

“I’m awake, I’m awake,” I mumbled groggily, voice muffled by the pillow.

“Then move it!” Monisha called out, laughing.

I finally peeled myself off the bed, splashed cold water on my face, and pulled on my pink gym set, the one with white lining. With my hair tied in a quick ponytail, I joined the girls outside for our usual morning workout. A few pushups, stretches, and then we took off for a light jog back to the dorms, laughing and teasing each other along the way.

After a quick shower, I slipped into a white shirt, my favorite light-washed blue jeans, and threw on a denim jacket to complete the look. Running late as usual I hurried to the classroom just in time.

Hours later, after lectures had drained our souls, we sat on a bench outside, soaking in the sun. The pavement still shimmered with leftover rain, catching golden streaks of light. The scent of fresh earth, warm sandwiches, and fizzy drinks filled the air. We munched quietly, enjoying the rare peace.

Monisha broke the silence. “Sara,” she said, eyeing me seriously. “You were hurt yesterday. Why didn’t you tell us?”

I glanced at her, still chewing. “What are you talking about?”

“I saw it this morning when you were showering,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

I waved it off casually. “Oh that? I just bumped into someone at a shop. Nothing serious.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Who?”

The others leaned in, grinning like they already knew the answer.

“Oh come on,” I rolled my eyes. “It wasn’t a big deal. I don’t even know the guy.”

Monisha leaned forward, her voice dripping with curiosity. “But was he handsome?”

My mind betrayed me with those piercing blue eyes, the sharp jawline, the wet shirt clinging to his frame… Ugh. I hated that I remembered it so clearly.

“No way,” I said, snapping out of it. “He looked like a dog. Yep, an arrogant stray mutt.” I laughed, brushing it off.

The girls burst out laughing with me. “A dog, huh?” Monisha nudged me playfully.

I grinned, relieved. “A very growly one.”

Still giggling, we picked ourselves up and walked back inside, the hallway echoing with our chatter. As we slipped into the classroom for our next lecture, a strange feeling lingered in my chest ...a nagging tug, like a string tying me to those blue eyes I pretended to forget.

After months of grueling study and sleepless nights, we finally passed our 4th-year exams. Just one more year to go and then, college life would be behind us. To celebrate, my friends and I chose a cozy downtown restaurant, known for its warm, inviting glow and soft jazz that floated through the air like a gentle embrace.

The restaurant hummed with quiet conversations, the walls lined with vintage photos that whispered stories of the past. Candles flickered softly on every table, casting golden pools of light that made the space feel both intimate and alive. Everyone was dressed to impress...my friends in elegant dresses and sharp suits, and I wore an outfit that made me feel radiant, ready to savor this perfect night.

Amid the laughter and clinking glasses, my gaze drifted and there he was. The guy I had that unforgettable moment with in the rain. There he was, sitting across the room , seated alone at a corner table, clearly in the midst of an urgent meeting. His laptop was open, the phone pressed to his ear, his focused expression sharp and commanding. It was clear he had something important to handle, yet even in this serious moment, there was an effortless charm about him. The way his chiseled jaw tensed, the slight furrow between his brows...it all made my heart skip.

For a moment, the world around me faded. Butterflies stirred deep in my stomach as I watched him...so composed, so undeniably attractive that it felt like I was seeing him for the first time all over again.

His eyes caught me as I chatted and laughed with my friends, all of us soaked in the joy of our celebration. The few drinks we’d had made us a little tipsy, our laughter louder, our smiles brighter. The night felt electric, like the world was ours for the taking.

After settling the bill, we rose together and made our way to the exit to hail a cab. But then, like déjà vu, I collapsed...again into his arms. My head gently hit his chest, and I winced softly, “Ouch.”

Arthur

I smirked, my voice was low and teasing. “You okay there?”

She looked up at me with glassy, dreamy eyes, her fingers sliding slowly to cup my jaw. “You’re so hot,” she murmured, her breath warm against my skin.

My breath hitched, caught somewhere deep in my lungs. I stared at her...flushed, tipsy, and utterly intoxicating. Seeing her like this stirred something dark and desperate inside of me. The kind of desire that blurs lines, that craves to claim and consume. In that moment, all I wanted was to take her....right there on the spot where she had been eating....make her cry my name with every whispered sin.

But then her friend appeared , a blonde about the same height, steadying her with a firm grip. “Sara… let’s go, the cab’s here,” she said, voice calm but insistent.

My mind screamed. First, I wanted to cut that hand off for holding her back, and second, for breaking our perfect moment. The friend’s eyes flicked to me apologetically. “Sorry for the trouble,” she said softly, leading her away.

I watched as they climbed into the cab and disappeared into the night. My heart hammered beneath my chest, every beat a fierce reminder of the storm raging inside me. I fought the urge to chase after them, to strip my soon-to-be girl bare right there and then. But restraint held me back...for now.

I stood there, breath caught between desire and reason, the cool night air brushing against my skin like a silent tease. The city lights blurred around me as my mind raced...images of her flushed face, the way her fingers had lingered on my jaw, the warmth of her head against my chest.

But this wasn’t the time. Not yet.

I clenched my fists, forcing the restless fire inside me to simmer down. There would be other moments , moments where nothing would hold me back, where I could show her everything I felt without restraint. For now, I just watched the cab’s taillights vanish into the distance, carrying her away from me.

Turning slowly, I pulled out my phone again. The client’s message was still blinking urgently. Duty called, but my thoughts stayed tangled with her....an intoxicating mix of promise and chaos that I wasn’t ready to let go.

With one last glance toward the dark street, I slipped into the shadows, already counting the days until our paths would cross again.

SARA

We finally reached the hostel and collapsed onto our beds, exhaustion washing over us like a heavy wave. Morning came with a pounding headache that seemed to echo every loud laugh and careless sip from the night before.

I groaned, pressing my hands against my temples. Suddenly, memories flooded back how I had leaned into him, the way I’d touched his face, the way my words had slurred. “Ahhh, how could I be so stupid?” I muttered, burying my face in my hands.

I ran my fingers through my hair, heart racing with embarrassment. What must he think of me? The thought stung sharply. That I’m just some careless drunkard?

Monisha, ever the lifesaver, tossed me a small bottle of hangover pills with a knowing smile. “Here, take these. You’re going to need them,” she said, settling beside me as we braced ourselves for the day ahead.

With a shaky breath, I popped the pills, hoping to push the night and my regrets further into the past.

Even as the dull ache in my head slowly eased, my mind refused to let go of him. The man who stirred something wild and new inside me, yet made me feel so vulnerable at the same time.

Was he judging me? Or did he see beyond the tipsy girl I’d been, to the person I really was? The thought both terrified and thrilled me.

I caught my reflection in the mirror, searching for the confidence I’d lost overnight. Somewhere beneath the embarrassment, I wanted to believe there was a chance that this complicated, imperfect connection wasn’t over before it even began.