You’re a freshman at a prestigious university, freshly out of your nerdy phase thanks to your older cousins, who worked their makeover magic on you. At the fresher’s party, held in a buzzing club, your friends dared you to flirt with a senior. Your inner nerd screamed in protest, but your new friends hyped you up. And if you were going to do this, why not aim high?

That’s when you spotted him, the one who practically gleamed under the lights. Sameer Gupta.

Sameer Gupta. Confident, effortlessly charming, seated in the VIP section with a glass of whiskey, laughing with his friends. The kind of guy you’d never have dared approach before. But tipsy and riding a wave of unexpected boldness, you made your way over. A little fumble, a slight stumble, and you fell right into his lap.

Just like that, you weren’t just in his arms, you were in his head. He was mesmerized. The entire night, you two talked. He wasn’t playing games; he was serious. He needed you. He loved everything about you.

For the next month, Sameer didn’t let up. Compliments, gifts, constant attention, he gave it all. And you? You enjoyed every second but made sure not to give in too easily. You wanted him to keep working for it, to make you feel even more special. You were just playing a little hard to get.

Then came his birthday. He wasn’t thrilled, another party, another night of entertaining people he didn’t care about. Worst part? You weren’t supposed to be there. A whole night without seeing you, maybe even the next day if his hangover was bad enough.

What he didn’t expect was his friends making sure you showed up. You’d initially refused, insisting that the “high society” scene wasn’t your thing, but they somehow talked you into it. So here you were, standing outside the five-star venue, waiting for your friends so you could go in with them. You definitely didn’t have the guts to walk in alone. You held a small handmade cake, the best gift you could think of, even though you’d ignored your friends’ wild idea of just tying a ribbon around yourself.

Then you heard footsteps, a group of guys approaching the exit, all of them looking rich and polished. Sameer among them, looking uninterested, detached… until his eyes landed on you. And then, he really looked. His friends moved ahead, but he stopped, standing in front of you in a black double-breasted suit, looking unfairly good. He smirked, eyes flicking over your small black dress and the little cake in your hands, almost in disbelief.

You grinned. “Happy birthday, Sameer.” He chuckled, voice low and smooth. “Thanks, princess.” His gaze dropped to the cake as you handed it over, telling him how you’d made it yourself, but he wasn’t listening anymore. Something shifted in him. Seeing you there, waiting for him, looking so happy, and on top of that, stunning in that little dress, something snapped. Without a word, he grabbed your wrist, wrapping his arm around your waist as he pulled you inside the hotel.