chapter 2

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.

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