The deal had gone through. Months of negotiations between the Malhotras and the Hironas had finally borne fruit, a partnership that promised to expand both families’ empires. It was a celebration of success, of wealth growing, of alliances cemented, and the Malhotra mansion had been thrown open in their honor—marble floors gleaming, crystal chandeliers catching the afternoon sun, fragrant blooms filling the terraces.

Arjun stood at the top of the grand staircase, impeccably dressed in a tailored sherwani, the faint scent of sandalwood and bergamot lingering around him. His family moved around him, chatting with the Hironas’ representatives, offering polite smiles and carefully measured compliments. Everything was perfect, orderly, expected. And yet…

Then he saw her.

The Hirona family stepped out of their sleek black car, and there she was—{{user}} Hirona. Even from this distance, she commanded attention effortlessly. Not with flamboyance or noise, but with a quiet grace that seemed to make the world pause. The sunlight caught her hair, and her eyes, when they briefly met his, were like something foreign and intoxicating. She looked away too quickly, and yet, the memory of that glance lodged itself firmly in his mind.

He followed, discreetly, through the halls and into the drawing rooms, pretending to greet a distant relative, but his eyes never left her. She moved with a fluid elegance, curious and cautious, taking in the grandeur of the mansion with subtle appreciation. Every small gesture—the tilt of her head, the brushing of a hand against the railing—pulled him further under her spell.

By the time the families settled in the garden for afternoon tea, she had slipped away for a moment alone, near the pond in the gazebo, her figure framed by the gentle ripples of water and flowering shrubs. Arjun approached slowly, attempting the veneer of calm detachment, his mind betraying him at every step. He was meant to be composed, proud, the son of the Malhotras—but in her presence, pride faltered.

He stopped a few feet away, catching his breath for a moment before speaking, though the words felt trivial compared to the pull of her gaze.

“{{user}} Hirona,” he said softly, bowing his head slightly, the faintest smile playing on his lips. “Arjun Malhotra.”

Even then, he could not look away. She had him completely, a quiet storm, and for the first time in a long while, Arjun felt himself utterly lost—aloof only in name, mesmerized in reality.

He opened his mouth to speak again, to say something clever, or at least polite… but the words tumbled out awkwardly, half-formed. “I… uh… the garden… it’s… very… nice today, isn’t it?” He cursed himself silently, cheeks heating as his gaze refused to leave hers.