Aarav's POV

The sizzle of garlic hit the hot oil in the pan just as the early morning light filtered through the sheer blinds of my penthouse kitchen. I stood shirtless, sweat still glistening faintly on my skin from the intense workout earlier, abs tight, chest rising slow and steady. My joggers hung low on my hips. The smell of burnt onions filled the air, but I didn’t care. My thoughts were elsewhere.

"Missing me already, Mr. Knight?"

Her voice.

Soft. Teasing. Familiar.

I turned—and there she was.

Anaya.

Wearing nothing but my white shirt, her hair tumbling in waves over her shoulders, her legs bare, her eyes filled with mischief.

Fuck.

She came closer, a seductive smirk tugging at her lips. My shirt clung to her skin, slightly transparent, nipples poking against the fabric. I swallowed hard, the pan forgotten, sizzling behind me.

"You’re staring again," she whispered, brushing her fingers lightly across my abs as she passed me, swaying her hips deliberately.

"You make it impossible not to," I growled, following her like a predator, gaze fixed on every sway of her body

"You're playing a dangerous game, jaan," I murmured against her lips.

She laughed softly and bolted toward the terrace. I followed, breath catching.

The pool shimmered under the morning sun, an open terrace oasis above the chaos of the city. She dipped her toes in, then looked at me with those wicked eyes before plunging in.

"Anaya—" I warned.

She surfaced, water clinging to her curves. She looked like sin incarnate, skin glowing, hair dripping down her back, my shirt now completely transparent.

The moment her body broke through the surface of the water, I stopped breathing.

My white shirt clung to every inch of her, soaked and translucent, revealing soft curves I hadn’t touched in years. Her  nipples hardened beneath the thin fabric, visible, teasing—making my throat dry and my self-control unravel thread by thread. 

She didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to. She knew what she was doing to me.

Her wet hair stuck to her collarbone, droplets trailing down her flushed skin. And her eyes—those sinful, wicked eyes—held mine like she wanted to see me burn.

I stepped into the water without hesitation. Slow. Deliberate. The heat in my blood had nothing to do with the sun overhead. The thing attracting was her seductive face, drowsy eyes and fuck, her brown, hard poking nipples which can be clearly seen through my shirt. She knows what she is doing.

 And if I lose control she will not be able to walk for weeks. But she didn't need to worry , I will carry her everywhere.

When I reached her, I gripped her waist, dragging her flush against me. Her legs brushed mine under the water, and I hissed through my teeth.

“You’ve always liked teasing, haven’t you?” I growled, my mouth brushing the shell of her ear.

She didn’t answer, but her fingers slid up my chest, tracing the ridges of muscle. Her touch was featherlight, maddening.

“I’ve thought about this every fucking night,” I said hoarsely, “about you in my shirt, drenched, clinging to me like you were made for no one else.”

Her breath caught, and I saw the way her pupils darkened. I lowered my mouth to her throat and tasted her skin—wet, warm, and salt-kissed. Her hands curled in my hair.

I lifted her onto the pool ledge, her legs wrapping around my waist. Water streamed down her body, making her shirt stick tighter. I pushed it up slowly, baring one breast. My mouth closed over her nipple, sucking gently, then harder, until she gasped my name, fingers digging into my shoulders.

“Look at you,” I murmured, licking a drop of water from her skin. “So sensitive for me.”

She whimpered as I palmed her other breast, kneading it while my mouth worshipped the first. Her back arched, offering more.

I switched sides, my tongue swirling around her peaked bud while her thighs clenched around me.

Her body trembled. And God, I needed her. Desperately.

I pressed kisses up her chest, her collarbone, then finally to her mouth. She met me halfway, lips parting, welcoming me in. Our kiss was wet, messy, full of years’ worth of hunger and hate and everything in between. My tongue swept hers, claiming, branding, letting her know she still belonged to me.

Always had. Always would.

When I pulled back, she was panting. Her cheeks were flushed.

“You’re mine, Anaya,” I rasped, resting my forehead against hers. “Even if you hate me. Even if you run. I’ll find you. I’ll keep you. I’ll fucking ruin anyone who touches you.”

She didn’t protest. She just whispered, “Then take me, Aarav…”

And then—everything faded.

I woke up in cold sweat, the ghost of her taste still on my lips, my fists clenched, my body on fire.

A fucking wet dream of her. Again.

Every night. For two years. She haunted me. Not just her body, but her voice, her scent, her fire.

Anaya Mehra.

My little butterfly. My obsession. My claim. And I wasn’t letting her go. Not this time.

And now I am heading towards my gym.

The gym inside my penthouse echoed with the rhythmic clang of weights. I pushed through reps like a machine, sweat pouring down my back, music pounding in my ears.

Still not enough to erase her voice. Still not enough to kill the ache.

Just few hours ago, my hands were covered in blood.

The warehouse near the docks stank of betrayal. The air was thick with gunpowder, smoke, and the metallic tang of death.

Three of my men had leaked the location of a weapons consignment—worth millions. I don’t tolerate betrayal. I don’t believe in second chances.

They begged.

One even cried.

I shot him first.

The second tried to run. I blew out his knee and watched him crawl before I stomped on his throat.

The third one I kept for last. For fun.

I tied him to the metal chair, let Luca  handle the blades. I stood behind him, whispering in his ear, reminding him of every rule he’d broken.

"You don’t cross a Knight and live to tell the tale," I said calmly, just before driving the knife into his gut.

I’d barely cleaned the blood off my hands when Luca's voice buzzed through the encrypted line.

"Boss... it’s her."

My heart stopped. "What the fuck do you mean it’s her?"

“Three unknown men are tailing her, posing a serious threat. It's dangerous.”

That’s all I needed.

The world spun as I barked orders, jumped into my car, and raced toward the bakery district. My hands gripped the wheel hard enough to crack bone.

She was in danger. My butterfly.

And I was a fucking storm unleashed.

When I saw her—bleeding, crying, cornered—I saw red. Everything after that was a blur of fists, broken bones, and screams.

I carried her to my penthouse like a fragile treasure. She slept in my bed. I bandaged her wounds. I watched her breathe.

And then, as always—she resisted.

Fucking stubborn. 

Even with blood in her hair and pain in her eyes, she shoved me away and demanded to go back to her flat.

I didn’t argue.

I drove her myself at 4 AM.. Watched her slam the door in my face.

I stared at that door for ten minutes. Then drove back, jaw clenched.

By 7:00, I was dressed in a tailored black shirt and slacks, slipping into my signature watch, hair slicked back, expression stone cold.

Knight Enterprises awaited me. But all I could think about… Was her.

And the war I was about to start to make her mine again. Forever.

Anaya’s POV-

I stood in front of the mirror, barely recognizing the girl staring back at me.

Swollen eyes. Flushed cheeks. A red nose from crying all night. I looked like grief had sunk its claws into me and refused to let go.

The moment I had stepped into my house last night, the tears came like a flood. I didn’t hold back. I couldn’t.

“Why, Papa…?” I whispered to the girl in the mirror. “Why did you leave me?”

My voice cracked, brittle and broken.

I was tired. Tired of being hunted. Tired of being scared. This wasn’t the first time someone had tried to kidnap me. There had been others—silent footsteps in the dark, strange cars parked too long near my building, shadows that always seemed to be watching. And each time, I had managed to outrun them.

But not last night. Last night, I had nearly died.

And he came. Aarav Knight.

My past. My mistake. My obsession… and my ruin.

It was the first time I had seen him in two years—and he was different. Colder. More powerful. More dangerous.

We could’ve had something once. Something real. But he destroyed it all.

And now, I refuse to be that girl again—the one who looked at him like he was her savior.

He shattered my world. And I’m going to shatter his.

I don’t care how much money he has. I don’t care how powerful his name is. I’ll find the truth. I’ll gather every scrap of evidence, every detail, every damn secret he tried to bury.

And when I’m done… I’ll burn his empire to the ground.

I wiped my tears with the back of my hand and grabbed my tote bag, stuffing my notes inside along with a half-eaten granola bar. I didn’t have the strength to eat properly, but I couldn’t afford to miss classes—not when I had already been on edge with everything.

Pulling on a simple black kurti and faded jeans, I tied my hair up in a messy bun and tried to mask the exhaustion with a bit of kajal and lip balm. It didn’t help. Nothing could hide the war happening inside me.

The bus stop was three lanes down. I walked quickly, keeping my head low and headphones plugged in, though I wasn’t listening to anything. It was a trick my father had taught me—look normal, act busy, and no one bothers you.

The campus gates came into view, and I exhaled the breath I’d been holding.

College was my only escape. A place where I wasn’t a victim. I was just… Anaya. The quiet girl who always sat near the window. The one who rarely spoke unless asked. The one whose notebooks were filled with more scribbled pain than textbook formulas.

The day went on like any other. Lectures. Assignments. Polite nods from classmates. A weak smile exchanged with the librarian who always kept a poetry book aside for me.

But I couldn’t focus. Aarav’s voice kept echoing in my head.

You’re mine, Anaya… and I’ll burn this city down if anyone even breathes wrong near you.

I clenched my fists under the desk. No. Not anymore. You don’t get to protect me after destroying everything I had.

When the last class ended, I stepped into the corridor and pulled out my phone to check the time.

4:12 PM.

And that’s when I saw it.

A message.

Unknown Number: “You think you’re safe in college? You’re wrong. He can’t protect you forever.”

My heart stopped. My breath caught.

The hallway blurred as the words stared back at me like a threat carved in fire.

I looked around, but no one seemed suspicious. Everyone was either rushing out or buried in their phones. I felt eyes on me—but I didn’t know whose.

My fingers trembled. Another message buzzed in.

“Watch your back, little dove. The game has just begun.”

And just like that, the cold settled into my spine.

Someone was watching me.

And this time… it wasn’t Aarav.