The car was quiet for exactly thirty seconds.

Then Aira shifted sharply in her seat, eyes blazing.
“You could’ve just let me handle it.”

Karan didn’t look at her. “You were flustered. He was too close.”

“He was your investor,” she snapped. “You embarrassed him in front of everyone.”

Karan turned then, finally, slowly. “He touched you, Aira.”

“It was a handshake!”

“It lingered.”

She stared, mouth parting. “You’re unbelievable.”

“No,” he said, voice cool. “I’m protective. Of what's mine.”

Her breath caught. “You don’t own me.”

Karan’s lips twitched into that maddening smirk. “No, but I paid enough to have a say. One month. My rules.”

“That doesn’t mean you get to humiliate people just because they looked at me wrong.”

His gaze flicked to her, dark and unreadable. “Men like him don’t just look.”

Aira turned away, biting the inside of her cheek to stop herself from screaming. The rest of the ride was filled with thick silence—but not the kind that brings peace. This silence had sharp edges.

When they reached the apartment, the quiet snapped.

The moment the door closed, she whirled around. “You’re a control freak. You know that, right?”

Karan didn’t even take off his coat. “You act like I should apologize for wanting to protect what’s mine.”

She stepped toward him, eyes blazing. “Stop saying that. I’m not your possession.”

“But you’re living in my house. Eating my food. Wearing my watch,” he pointed out. “What does that make you?”

Her face fell, fury flashing into something rawer. “You want to reduce me to that? Go ahead. Just don’t expect me to pretend you’re doing it out of kindness.”

He walked toward her, slow and steady, and backed her up into the wall - again.

“This has never been about kindness, Aira,” he murmured. “You knew that when you signed.”

“I signed to save my mother.”

“And now you live with the devil,” he whispered, eyes locking with hers. “So stop acting surprised when hell gets hot.”

Her heart slammed against her chest. She hated how close he was.
Hated how badly she didn’t want him to move.

And just when she thought he’d kiss her -
He didn’t.

He walked away.
Just like that.

“Good night,” he said, leaving her burning.

🥀🥀🥀

The clock struck midnight. The apartment was quiet—but it wasn’t peaceful.

Aira tossed on the bed, her skin prickling with heat. Not from the weather. From him. From the way he looked at her tonight. From the way his voice had curled around her like silk and thorns.

She was about to get up for water when -
The door creaked open.

Karan didn’t knock.

He stepped inside like he owned the silence, like he belonged in her space. Like she belonged to him.

Aira sat up, the sheet falling from her shoulder.
“What are you doing?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just walked in… slow, deliberate, eyes never leaving hers.

“I told myself I’d give you space,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “But then I remembered…”

He stopped at the edge of her bed.

"you signed away that privilege.”

She stared at him, heart pounding, mouth dry.

“I saw you tonight,” he cut in, gaze dark. “Flushed. Shaken. And you still tried to fight me in the car.”

She swallowed hard. “You don’t get to decide how I feel.”

“I don’t?” He tilted his head. “Then why are you breathless every time I get this close?”

He leaned down, just enough for her to feel the heat off his body. His hand came up, fingers brushing the side of her neck - barely a touch. But it lit her nerve endings like fire.

“You’re afraid of what this is,” he murmured. “Afraid of how bad you want the monster.”

Her chest rose and fell rapidly. “You’re not a monster.”

“Oh baby,” he whispered, “I am. And you…”
His fingers trailed down her collarbone, igniting a trail of heat.
“you like dancing in the dark.”

She gasped softly as his lips hovered near hers, not quite touching. Teasing.

But then - he pulled back. Just like last night.

Aira blinked, confused. Flushed.

Karan smirked, voice low and wicked.
“Not yet, sweetheart. You’ll beg first.”

And with that, he left.

Leaving her burning.

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