I needed to get away.

That's the only thought that kept echoing in my head. The moment I stepped out, that familiar warm air hit me-salt, sun, noise-and something inside me loosened. I always end up here when I feel lost, and today was no different.

My phone hasn't stopped buzzing. Mom keeps calling... again and again. I glance at the screen every time it lights up, jaw clenching, and then I flip it over like it's nothing.

I'm not ready to talk. Not yet.

Goa is the one place where I can breathe I just watch the waves crash and pull back, and somehow it feels like they're taking little pieces of my heaviness with them. I know I'll pick up that call eventually.

But right now?

Right now, I just want to be Reyansh-the man who runs to the sea whenever he loses himself, hoping the ocean will help him find the parts he dropped along the way.

Maa doesn't deserve silence. She doesn't deserve this distance. But every time I hear her voice, it reminds me of that day-of how she looked at me when I said the words no son should have to say. "I'm calling off the wedding."

Her face fell. Not angry... just broken. And that hurt more than anything. But what was I supposed to do? I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply as I walked towards the bar. Bas ek drink chahiye. Ya shayad do.

The night breeze was cool, but my mind was still tangled in the mess I had just walked out of.

Shaadi. Rishta.

Politics, business deals disguised as relationships How do you marry someone who stands in front of you with a smile that never reaches her eyes? How do you promise a lifetime to a girl whose heart is already living somewhere else-waiting for someone she wasn't allowed to choose?

The moment I found out she loved someone else, that she was being forced into this marriage just because "Khurana surname ka weight hai"-I knew.

In the way she avoided saying my name like it tasted wrong on her tongue. She loved someone else. And she was only agreeing because her family pushed her into it, backed her into a corner until she said "yes."

So I ended it.

"Whiskey on the rocks," I told the bartender, my voice calmer than I felt.

My phone buzzed. Predictably, another call from my mother. Probably another emotional blackmail session about "log kya kahenge?"

Fuck them!!

As I took a sip from my drink, I wasn't exactly paying attention to my surroundings. The place was buzzing, and I was lost in my own world of... well, whatever the hell was going on in my head. And then THUD

My drink. Her dress.

"Shit, I'm sor-" I started, but then my eyes finally focused on her face. She froze, just like someone caught in a lie.

"I am really sorry"

"Reyansh Aap..." she started, but her voice wavered, just for a second, before she quickly tried to mask it. I quickly pulled out my handkerchief, offering it to her with another apology, my voice a little too rushed. "Here-uh-please... I really didn't see you. I'm sorry again."

Wait..She... knows me?

"I'm literally ruining your mood today, aren't I?" I exhaled, half-laughing at myself, half dying inside. Then I looked at her properly and asked the thing that had been eating my brain raw.

"But... you know my name?"

She shrugged lightly, almost casual, but her eyes held this spark.

"Yup. I'm interested in business," she said, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Business.

Right. Her hair fell in these soft waves, the kind you only get when the breeze loves you a little too much. Her eyes were sharp focused, curious-like she was always analyzing, always thinking two steps ahead.

And her dress... even with the drink stain... somehow still looked elegant on her. She brushed off the stain with a small smile, her voice soft.

"It's okay"

"So you're interested in business," I said, eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity. "That's... different."

"Honestly? Not many girls I meet actually understand business. They get bored the moment I talk about numbers or strategy."

I tilted my head, studying her-really studying her.

"You look too young to be interested in business. What's driving you?"

"Why does age matter when you know what you want?" Damn. She really doesn't give a shit about what I think.

"And that makes me want to know more about you."

The moment I said it, she stiffened-just a little-and then she looked away, clutching her bag like she suddenly remembered something urgent.

"I have to go," she blurted out, almost too quickly. "I'm getting late."

Her voice was rushed, breathy, like my words had pushed her off balance and she was trying hard to regain control. And I just stood there... watching her.

I stepped out of the bar, my breath slightly uneven, heart racing in a way that had nothing to do with the cool night air. What the hell just happened? I groaned, burying my face in my hands.

"I am interested in business " I mumbled to myself. "Wow, Tara. Next time, why don't you also tell him you own five multinational companies and are planning to take over Wall Street?"

Because let's be real-business was not my interest. Reyansh was. I had to say something, anything, to hide the fact that my entire brain had just shut down the second I saw him with that dangerously smooth voice. And the way he had looked at me? Like he was actually interested in what I had to say?

No. This was bad. Really bad.

I stormed toward the elevator, determined to erase the last ten minutes from my memory. If I ignored reality hard enough, maybe it would cease to exist. I pressed the elevator button, tapping my foot impatiently. Come on, come on-jaldi open ho ja.

The doors slid open, and just as I stepped forward-my brain short-circuited.

Because standing inside the elevator, looking at me like he had all the time in the world, was none other than Reyansh Khurana. And because my life was a tragic comedy, he had the audacity to smirk.

"Ladies first," he said smoothly, holding the elevator door open for me like some kind of villainous gentleman.

But obviously, running away again would be too obvious. And I had already embarrassed myself enough for one night. So, with all the fake confidence I could muster, I lifted my chin and stepped inside.

The doors slid shut. And just like that, we were alone.

In a tiny, silent elevator. With him standing way too close.

I pretended to focus on the floor buttons, internally reciting every motivational quote I had ever read. You are strong. You are fearless. You are NOT going to make a fool of yourself again-

"So?" His voice was lazy, smooth, like he knew exactly what he was doing. "Are you only interested in business... or in something else too?"

Every TED Talk I'd ever listened to about self-control? Completely useless in that moment.

I swallowed. Hard. I knew this was going to come back.

I cleared my throat, trying to summon that CEO energy I claimed to have, and turned to him with what I hoped looked like confidence.b"Business is important, Mr. Khurana. But why are you asking all this? Why are you so interested?" What's wrong with me?

He chuckled-low, deep-and God help me, the sound practically scrambled my sanity.

"My interest goes where I find something... interesting." His gaze flickered to me, dark and impossible to read.

"I get what I want easily," he murmured. "And when I like something... I don't lose interest so easily."

Oh. Oh no.

I should say something. Anything.

But all I could do was feel. The way his voice curled around me. The way his words slipped under my skin, leaving an unsettling warmth in their wake.

The elevator stopped. Doors sliding open. A lifeline I desperately needed.

I stepped out first, refusing to look back, refusing to acknowledge the way my heart was still racing.

Wait.

WAIT.

What is he doing in this hotel? He is getting married here? Yahi hotel?!"

Why god?