Reva's POV
Reva's jaw ached from how tightly she was clenching it.
Across the auditorium, Kamyar Malhotra sat like he owned the air itself. Relaxed. Effortless. One arm draped over the chair beside him, eyes lazily scanning the room until they landed on her.
A faint smirk curved his lips.
Her fingers curled at her sides.
She was going to kill him. Not metaphorically. Very literally.
The dean cleared his throat, stepping up to the podium. "We've called you all here today because the owner of our medical college, Mr. Kamyar Malhotra, has expressed interest in understanding the student experience firsthand."
A murmur rippled through the hall.
"He wishes for a student volunteer to show him around the campus and highlight any issues that require development. Who would like to—"
Every hand shot up.
Every single one.
Except three.
Reva stared straight ahead, arms crossed. Vivaan and Aria sat frozen beside her.
She felt it before she saw it.
Kamyar leaned forward slightly.
Then he raised his hand and pointed.
Directly at her.
The smirk widened.
The dean followed his gesture and brightened instantly. "Ah, excellent choice. Ms. Reva Sharma is one of our most promising students. Disciplined, responsible, and deeply aware of student concerns."
Reva's blood boiled.
Kamyar stood, adjusting his cuffs as if this were all a pleasant coincidence. He walked toward her with unhurried confidence, stopping just close enough to invade her space.
He extended his hand.
"Nice to meet you, Ms. Reva," he said smoothly, amusement flickering in his eyes.
She forced her lips into a smile that hurt her face. "Likewise, sir."
Their hands met.
His grip was firm. Deliberate. Just a second longer than necessary.
He leaned in slightly. "Shall we?"
She rolled her eyes and turned on her heel.
They walked in tense silence through the corridors, past students pretending not to stare. The moment they turned into an empty wing of the building, away from curious eyes, Reva stopped abruptly.
She spun around.
"You think this is funny?" she snapped. "Burning my car and then showing up here with some ridiculous excuse?"
His expression didn't change. If anything, he looked entertained.
"Careful," he said calmly. "Accusations without proof can be dangerous."
"You were standing there," she shot back. "Watching it burn."
He took a step closer.
Then another.
In one swift movement, he caged her between his arms and the wall behind her. Not touching. Not yet. Just close enough to make his presence unavoidable.
"Don't play with fire," he murmured near her ear. "You'll get burned, firefly."
Her heart slammed violently against her ribs.
Rage flared hotter.
She stomped down on his foot with all her strength.
Hard.
He hissed sharply, reflexively stepping back.
"Don't you dare manhandle me, Mr. Malhotra," she said, voice shaking with fury. "I don't care who you are."
He straightened slowly, eyes dark now, studying her like she was a challenge he hadn't decided whether to break or conquer.
"Not scared," he said thoughtfully. "Good. I'd be bored otherwise."
Her hands trembled. She clenched them into fists.
"This ends here," she said. "Stay out of my life."
His gaze dropped briefly to her shaking hands.
Then back to her eyes.
"You slapped me," he reminded her quietly. "You bruised my pride."
His voice lowered. "And I don't let things end."
Something cold slid down her spine.
Not fear.
Realization.
She turned away before he could see anything else. Walked fast. Didn't look back.
Only when she locked herself inside the bathroom did she grip the sink and breathe.
Idiot.
Because she knew it now, with terrifying clarity.
Kamyar Malhotra wasn't done with her.
And worse?
Her heart was still racing.
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