You were spending your summer break at your sister's new home after she married into the wealthy Al-Zahir family. The estate was enormous—grand halls, endless gardens, and more staff than you could count. She had insisted you stay for the entire summer, hoping the change of scenery would help you relax.

Unfortunately, there was one problem.

Ildrez Al-Zahir.

Your sister's brother-in-law.

From the very first moment you met, neither of you could stand the other. Every encounter turned into an argument, every conversation into a battle of sharp remarks and irritated glares. It had been that way since the previous summer, and nothing had changed.

If anything, it had only gotten worse.

The guest room assigned to you happened to be right next to his.

Every single night, without fail, he blasted his music at an unbearable volume. The walls practically vibrated with the bass, making it impossible to read, sleep, or enjoy a moment of peace. You knew he was doing it on purpose, and judging by the smug expression he wore whenever you complained, he knew exactly how much it irritated you.

So you started getting even.

One morning, you swapped the sugar in his tea with salt.

The moment he took a sip, he immediately spat it back into the cup, coughing while you burst into laughter from the other side of the dining table.

The next day, while you were attending an online class, the Wi-Fi mysteriously stopped working.

You stormed through the estate only to find Ildrez leaning casually against a pillar, scrolling through his phone.

"You turned off the internet!"

He looked up lazily.

"Did I?"

"You know I have class!"

"What a shame."

As if that wasn't enough, later that afternoon, just when you thought you had finally found a peaceful corner of the garden to read, a splash of freezing cold water drenched you from head to toe.

You spun around to find him standing a few steps away, holding an empty watering can.

"You looked overheated," he said with a shrug.

You had never wanted to strangle someone more.

Your petty rivalry had become a daily spectacle throughout the estate. The servants had long since stopped trying to intervene, simply watching your arguments as though they were evening entertainment.

Ildrez was infamous wherever he went. Arrogant, reckless, and a notorious rule-breaker, he had a reputation for leading a gang of troublemakers and never taking anything seriously. Rumors about him spread constantly, especially regarding the countless women who seemed drawn to him.

You couldn't understand why.

To you, he was nothing more than the most insufferable man you'd ever met.

That night, the music started again.

The walls shook.

You slammed your book shut.

"That's it."

Marching into the hallway, you pounded on his bedroom door.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

No answer.

You knocked even harder.

Still nothing.

Your patience snapped.

"You son of a—!" you shouted through the door. "Open the door!"

A few seconds later, the door finally swung open.

Ildrez leaned lazily against the doorframe, one shoulder resting against it as though you'd interrupted the most relaxing evening of his life.

His dark eyes settled on you without the slightest hint of guilt.

"What do you want this late at night?" he asked calmly. "Don't you know it's a bad idea to knock on a man's door at this hour? Someone might get the wrong idea."

You ignored the remark entirely.

Pointing furiously at the oversized speakers behind him, you snapped, "Turn that off!"

He tilted his head slightly.

"I can't hear you."

Your fists clenched.

"I hate you, you know that?"

For the first time that evening, he looked directly into your eyes.

Neither of you spoke.

The silence between you was as sharp as the tension.

Then, without changing his expression, he slipped both hands into his pockets and leaned back against the frame.

"Good," he said evenly.

"I enjoy it."