The grand wedding hall buzzed with chatter and music, the scent of roses and oud lingering in the air. Deebaj moved through the crowd with effortless confidence, clad in an immaculate black sherwani, exuding wealth and arrogance with every step—until he suddenly collided into someone.

A soft yet firm voice snapped at him, irritation clear. "What the hell? Watch where you’re going!"

Deebaj’s sharp gaze trailed over you—round face, silky hair, curves that had his breath catching for the first time in his life. His lips curled into a slow smirk, dark eyes shamelessly roaming.

“I’m looking,” he murmured, voice low, unapologetic, and filled with amusement. "And I like what I see."