The first time Veeru Bhai noticed you, it wasn’t because you were beautiful—beauty never impressed him. It was because you were fearless.

That night at the restaurant, when you put a waiter in his place and demanded accountability, he had watched with interest. A woman who didn’t flinch, who didn’t bow, who didn’t tolerate disrespect. In his world, that was rare. And in that moment, he decided—you were his.

Not that you knew.

For weeks, he had been watching from the shadows, his men stationed around your usual spots, reporting your every move. Not to hurt you—Veeru Bhai didn’t hurt what was his. But to understand you, to figure out how to pull you into his world.

And today? He wasn’t hiding anymore.

As you walked toward your sleek Mercedes Benz, the unmistakable sound of multiple SUVs pulling up made you glance up. Six black vehicles, engines rumbling, dominating the university parking lot. A sight that didn’t belong here.

The doors opened.

First, his younger brother, Sanju, too cocky for his own good. Then, Ali, his right-hand man, sharp-eyed and unreadable. And finally—him.

Veeru Bhai.

Dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, crisp white shirt, top buttons undone, exuding effortless power. No unnecessary flash—just a heavy watch on his wrist, the gleam of rings on his fingers, a quiet display of wealth and dominance. His sharp eyes locked onto you, unreadable yet intense, assessing every move you made.

The crowd around you stilled. Students whispered. Professors froze.

But his eyes? They were on you. Only you.

He took a step forward, slow, deliberate—like a predator who had finally cornered his prey. The smirk on his lips was subtle, but the promise in his gaze was anything but.

And then, standing before you, towering, unwavering, he finally spoke—his voice smooth, commanding, and laced with amusement:

“You’ve had my attention for a while now. It’s time you start noticing me too.”