The grand ballroom of The Imperial glowed under cascading chandeliers, each crystal catching light like falling stars. Waiters glided between high-profile guests, offering glasses of champagne and artfully plated hors d’oeuvres. It was the annual Malhotra Foundation Gala—an event where power dressed in velvet, and secrets hid behind polite smiles.

Aaryan Sehgal stood near the edge of the crowd, dressed in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo, sipping whiskey on the rocks. At thirty, he was the enigmatic CEO of Sehgal Corp—India’s leading tech conglomerate. He rarely made public appearances unless they were critical to the company’s image. Tonight was different, but not for business reasons.

He was bored. That is, until she walked in.

Kiara Malhotra.

She didn’t just enter the room—she owned it. Draped in a midnight-blue satin gown that shimmered with every step, she moved with effortless elegance. Her long, dark hair was swept to one side, and her hazel eyes scanned the room—not for attention, but with curiosity, like she was quietly assessing every soul in it.

Aaryan’s breath caught in his chest, an unfamiliar hitch in his usually steady composure.

“That’s Kiara Malhotra,” his assistant, Kabir, whispered beside him. “Only daughter of the Malhotra empire.”

Aaryan didn’t respond. His eyes were fixed on her as she crouched to speak with a small girl standing nervously by the buffet. Kiara knelt, offering the child a warm smile and a tiny silver-wrapped chocolate from her clutch. The girl giggled and hugged her before running off.

She hadn’t even noticed the room watching her. Including him.

“Introduce us,” Aaryan said quietly.

Kabir blinked. “Sir?”

Aaryan was already walking across the ballroom, drink forgotten.

—

Kiara had just turned toward the silent auction table when she noticed him—tall, dark, and undeniably striking. There was something cold and calculated in his gaze, but it wasn’t unkind. Curious. Intense. Dangerous, maybe.

“Miss Malhotra,” he greeted smoothly, offering his hand.

“Mr. Sehgal.” Her tone was polite, but her brow lifted ever so slightly. “I’m surprised you’re here. Charity galas don’t usually scream Sehgal Corp.”

He smirked, impressed. “Neither does midnight-blue and bare shoulders, but you wear it like armor.”

That earned a laugh from her—not loud, but genuine. “Flattery or analysis?”

“Both,” he replied, watching her closely. “You’re not what I expected.”

She tilted her head. “And what did you expect?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But not someone who makes the entire room feel smaller just by walking in.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The music faded into background noise. Her hazel eyes held his like a puzzle he suddenly wanted to solve.

“Do you always speak in headlines?” she asked, arching a brow.

“Only when the subject demands attention,” he replied.

Before she could respond, Meera Malhotra appeared, graceful and composed. “Kiara, darling. The press is waiting near the sculpture gallery.”

Kiara gave Aaryan one last look, then stepped back. “Maybe next time, Mr. Sehgal. Though you may want to work on your opening lines.”

As she walked away, her perfume lingered in the air—jasmine and something wild.

Aaryan didn’t move. For a man who made billion-dollar decisions in minutes, he was stunned by how one woman had unraveled him with nothing but a look and a smile.

He didn’t believe in love at first sight.

Until now.

---

End of Episode 1.

The morning sun filtered through the tall French windows of the Malhotra estate, casting golden streaks over Kiara's breakfast table. She sat with a plate of untouched pancakes and her phone buzzing beside her. Her mind was still stuck on the man from last night—Aaryan Sehgal.

There was something unsettling about the way he’d looked at her. Not with flirtation, not with admiration—but with intent. Like he saw something beneath the surface that even she hadn’t fully explored.

Before she could dwell too long, her mother entered the room, phone in hand, face glowing with excitement.

“We just finalized the collaboration,” Meera Malhotra announced, sliding into the seat opposite Kiara.

Kiara looked up. “What collaboration?”

“With Sehgal Corp. It’s a luxury tech merge. Fashion meets innovation. You and Aaryan will co-lead the launch.”

Kiara blinked. “You’re joking.”

“Do I ever joke about boardroom deals?” Meera arched a brow.

Kiara leaned back in her chair. The idea of working with the very man whose gaze had followed her like a shadow all evening wasn’t exactly on her wishlist.

—

Meanwhile, at Sehgal Corp’s towering glass headquarters, Aaryan stood at the window of his 42nd floor office. Below, the city pulsed like a living organism. Behind him, his assistant Kabir cleared his throat.

“The Malhotra collaboration is a go. And they’ve specifically requested Kiara to be co-lead.”

Aaryan didn’t flinch. But a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Good,” he said simply, turning back to his desk. “Let’s see if she’s as sharp in business as she is in banter.”

—

The next afternoon, the boardroom at Sehgal Corp buzzed with anticipation. The entire executive team was present, and the table was lined with concept sketches, strategy reports, and coffee cups.

Then the doors opened, and Kiara walked in.

Dressed in a tailored cream blazer over a black dress, she looked every inch the heiress, but her stride spoke of confidence she’d earned, not inherited.

Aaryan stood up. “Miss Malhotra.”

“Mr. Sehgal,” she replied, her voice calm but cool. “Try not to fall for me in a professional setting—it’ll get awkward.”

A few executives chuckled under their breath.

Aaryan, unfazed, motioned to the seat beside him. “You flatter yourself. But I’ll try.”

They dove into work quickly. The project was ambitious—an elite wearable tech line that married Malhotra Couture’s elegance with Sehgal Corp’s innovation. Kiara proposed designs that adapted to mood and temperature, while Aaryan’s team had the tech to back it up.

As the meeting progressed, their synergy became undeniable. Kiara was bold, creative, and unafraid to push back. Aaryan was strategic, logical, and sharp with numbers.

But what neither expected was how natural it felt to argue, to agree, to build something—together.

After two intense hours, the meeting ended. The room cleared, leaving just the two of them.

“You surprised me,” Kiara said, gathering her notes.

“Likewise,” Aaryan replied. “I thought you’d be more… entitled.”

“And I thought you’d be colder.”

A beat passed. Aaryan stepped closer.

“Then again,” he murmured, “I’ve been wrong about you twice now.”

Kiara met his gaze, chin lifted, eyes curious. “Careful, Mr. Sehgal. You're starting to sound like you're impressed.”

He gave her a faint smile. “Maybe I am.”

And for a fleeting second, she didn’t look away.

---

End of Episode 2.

The following week moved like a whirlwind of presentations, design prototypes, media planning, and brand meetings. But beneath all the professional chaos was something far more electric—the growing tension between Kiara and Aaryan.

To outsiders, they were a power duo—flawlessly dressed, perfectly composed, exchanging ideas with seamless rhythm. But when the doors closed and the world fell away, their interactions were charged with something unspoken.

At 9:00 a.m. sharp, Kiara walked into their shared design studio at Sehgal Corp’s creative wing. Her hair was tied into a sleek ponytail, and she wore a black turtleneck tucked into high-waisted beige pants. Effortless. Elegant.

Aaryan was already there, sleeves rolled up, leaning over the table as he sketched out an interface design for the smartwatch line.

“You’re early,” she said, setting her laptop on the table.

He didn’t look up. “You’re late.”

“I’m two minutes early,” she corrected, arching a brow.

He finally looked at her. “Exactly. I was expecting you five minutes ago.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled. “You need a hobby.”

He smirked. “I just found one.”

Before Kiara could react, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen—an incoming call from Ishita Kapoor, a name that Kiara didn’t recognize, but something about the pause in Aaryan’s expression made her curious.

“Excuse me,” he said and stepped outside the glass door to answer.

From behind the partition, Kiara couldn’t hear much—only fragments.

“I told you, not now… No, I didn’t forget… I’m handling it.”

Her mind, naturally inquisitive, began piecing together ideas she had no business entertaining. Who is she? A girlfriend? An ex? A problem?

But before she could spiral, he returned, his expression composed as ever.

“Where were we?” he asked.

Kiara didn’t push. But something in her chest tightened.

—

Later that day, the two found themselves in a showroom mock-up for a branding shoot. Lights were being tested, props arranged, and the creative director asked them to stand together for a few trial frames.

Aaryan moved closer to Kiara, his hand brushing her back as he guided her gently into the frame.

“You don’t have to touch me,” she whispered.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he whispered back, though his voice was low and amused.

The camera clicked. The chemistry was undeniable.

They stood just inches apart. Neither smiled, but their eyes spoke a silent war—fire meeting ice. Intensity layered with confusion.

“Perfect,” the photographer announced. “Let’s do one more.”

Kiara turned slightly, her profile glowing under the lights. Aaryan watched her—not the way a CEO looks at a business partner, but the way a man looks at a storm he has no desire to escape from.

That night, Kiara sat alone in her room, reviewing campaign notes. But her thoughts kept circling back to Aaryan’s phone call. To his stare during the shoot. To the way he listened, as if her every word mattered.

She hated the distraction. Hated that a man could occupy so much space in her thoughts when she barely knew him.

But maybe, deep down… she didn’t want to not know him.

—

Meanwhile, Aaryan sat in his car, parked outside Sehgal Corp, staring at the city skyline.

Kabir sat beside him. “You’ve been quiet.”

Aaryan didn’t respond for a while. Then finally, he said, “She’s not just smart. She sees people.”

“You mean Kiara?”

Aaryan exhaled, his voice low. “She’s not like the rest.”

Kabir hesitated. “And Ishita?”

Aaryan’s jaw tensed. “That’s… complicated.”

He stared at the skyline a second longer, then started the engine.

The game had just begun—and it was no longer about business.

---

End of Episode 3.