Ruhe Sharma had audited billion-rupee companies.

She had handled hostile CEOs.

Aggressive lawyers.

Men who thought confidence was a personality.

None of them irritated her the way Arjun Kapoor smiling at another woman did.

Which was extremely unprofessional.

She spotted him at the hotel lounge.

White shirt.

Rolled sleeves.

Relaxed posture.

And beside him—

A woman laughing.

Hand casually on his arm.

Too casually.

Ruhe slowed her steps.

Great, she thought.

The nation’s captain also captains unnecessary intimacy.

Arjun noticed Ruhe instantly.

Of course he did.

Her walk was controlled.

Her expression unreadable.

Dangerous combination.

He excused himself and stood up.

“Ms. Sharma,” he greeted smoothly.

“What a coincidence.”

She looked at the empty chair beside him.

“Is it?” she asked sweetly.

“Or do you schedule coincidences between endorsements?”

The woman beside him blinked.

Awkward.

Arjun smiled.

“Ruhe, this is Ananya. Brand manager.”

Ruhe nodded.

“Ah. So this is where ethics go on coffee breaks.”

Ananya laughed nervously.

Arjun hid his grin.

They stepped aside.

“You’re being unfair,” Arjun murmured.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit accountants.”

Ruhe scoffed.

“Please. I don’t get jealous.

I get annoyed when assets are misused.”

He leaned closer.

“Is that what I am now? An asset?”

She met his gaze.

“Overvalued.

But yes.”

He chuckled softly.

God.

That sound should be illegal.

Later that evening—

Media dinner.

Lights.

Cameras.

Champagne.

Ruhe stood near the balcony when Arjun joined her.

“You didn’t drink,” he observed.

“I don’t need alcohol to tolerate you,” she replied.

He smirked.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

She glanced at him.

“Why?”

“Because it means you’re staying.”

Silence.

Charged.

“You know what scares me about you?” Arjun said quietly.

Ruhe raised an eyebrow.

“That you can’t intimidate me?”

“No,” he replied.

“That you see me…

and still don’t excuse me.”

Her voice softened.

“You don’t want excuses, Arjun.

You want permission.”

He swallowed.

Touché.

Suddenly, a young female reporter approached.

“Captain Kapoor, quick photo?”

She placed herself too close.

Too familiar.

Ruhe stepped back.

Arjun noticed.

And for reasons he didn’t understand—

he moved away from the reporter.

Stood beside Ruhe instead.

“Photo later,” he said.

Ruhe looked up, surprised.

“Why?” she asked.

His voice dropped.

“Because I don’t like being misunderstood.”

Her heart skipped.

Stupid, dangerous heart.

As the night ended, rain began to fall.

They stood under the porch.

Too close.

Again.

“Tell me something,” Ruhe whispered.

“Am I just another problem to manage?”

Arjun shook his head.

“No,” he said honestly.

“You’re the one thing I can’t control.”

She smiled.

Soft.

Unprotected.

And that scared both of them.