The pub was alive—music pulsing through the floorboards, glasses clinking, laughter spilling into the corners like smoke. Kiaan leaned against the counter, casually swirling his drink, his hoodie sleeve slightly pushed up to reveal a bandaged palm. The bar lights flickered golden across his features—soft pink lips, obsidian black eyes, and a wild, messy crown of hair that made him look far too young and dangerously charming for the chaos he carried inside.
The bartender handed him a second drink. He didn't smile much—but when he did, it was disarming. Quiet. Gentle. The kind of smile that drew attention without trying.
And it did.
Women turned, nudging one another, whispering behind glass rims. But Kiaan didn't notice—or if he did, he didn't care. He was here for one beer, maybe two, and to keep Dev from getting arrested for charming the wrong girl again.
But at the farthest end of the room, through the glass of a private booth clouded in shadows, Reyan Malhotra froze.
He had just signed off on a deal—routine, swift, forgettable—when his eyes swept over the crowd and landed on the boy in blue.
The moment his gaze found him, everything else bled into the background.
There was something… unfamiliar yet familiar. Something about that face—not in his database, not in his intel—but strangely unforgettable. Too clean. Too sharp. Too dangerously... pure for someone just idling in a place like this.
Rex stood up, exhaling a stream of smoke as he flicked his cigarette aside. His tall figure—dressed in black, with an aura thick enough to silence the air—walked straight toward the boy like a lion catching scent of something unknown but potent.
Kiaan didn't move. He noticed the approach, the way heads subtly turned as this stranger moved—shoulders wide, black coat brushing behind him like shadows following a king. He sensed danger. But it didn't scare him.
It intrigued him.
> "Alone?"
The voice was deep. Low. Smooth, but with a scratch of gravel—like every word had burned its way out.
Kiaan turned, met his eyes.
> "Only for a minute," he said flatly, lifting his glass. "Friend's busy finding love in the corner."
Rex smirked, eyes skimming over him quickly, carefully. Not with lust. With curiosity. Obsession, maybe. Calculation.
> "Didn't think you looked like someone who blends into a pub crowd."
> "And you look like someone who doesn't belong in one," Kiaan said back easily.
That earned a deeper chuckle from Rex—sharp, but amused.
> "Fair. Maybe I came for something else. And stayed for... curiosity."
Kiaan's gaze narrowed slightly. His instincts were never wrong. This man had the vibe of someone who'd seen too much, done too much, controlled too much.
> "If it's curiosity," Kiaan said quietly, tilting his head, "You're better off leaving it alone."
> "Noted." Rex's smile was a slow curve, but something cold flickered behind it. "I didn't catch your name."
Kiaan shrugged. "Didn't throw it."
The tension danced—subtle, electric. Neither knew the other's name, but both sensed something twisted beneath this chance meeting. Two flames circling without realizing they'd already been thrown into the same fire.
Just then, Dev called out from behind with a cheeky whistle.
> "Oye Casanova, you ditching me now?"
Kiaan smirked faintly. "Duty calls."
He turned to leave, but not before glancing at Rex one last time.
> "Nice chat... stranger."
Rex watched him go, something in his expression unreadable. For the first time in a long while, he didn't know whether he'd just met prey—or a rival. But he knew one thing:
That face, that presence... wasn't one he could forget.
Not now. Not ever.