Ruhe Sharma believed in boundaries.

Professional.

Emotional.

Physical.

Unfortunately, Arjun Kapoor had no respect for any of them.

It happened by accident.

Of course it did.

The hotel elevator stopped abruptly between floors.

Lights dimmed.

Silence swallowed the space.

Ruhe lost balance.

And Arjun caught her.

His hand—

firm on her waist.

Too firm.

Too familiar.

They froze.

Breathing suddenly loud.

Awareness suddenly dangerous.

“This is highly inappropriate,” Ruhe said, not moving.

Arjun’s voice was low.

“Then why aren’t you stepping back?”

Because she didn’t want to.

That truth scared her more than the darkness.

The elevator jerked again.

Lights returned.

Reality rushed back in.

Ruhe stepped away instantly, adjusting her dupatta.

“Don’t read into this,” she warned.

Arjun smiled softly.

“Relax. I already overthink for a living.”

She shot him a glare.

“I audit men like you.”

“And yet,” he replied,

“you tremble when I touch you.”

Silence.

Electric.

Unfinished.

Next morning.

Hell broke loose.

HEADLINE:

Indian Captain & Mystery Woman Spotted Late Night

Photos.

Blurry.

Misleading.

But effective.

Ruhe stared at her phone.

“Oh fantastic,” she muttered.

“I’ve been reduced to ‘mystery woman’.”

Her senior called immediately.

“Ruhe, why is your face near the captain’s shoulder?”

She closed her eyes.

“Because gravity exists.”

At the training ground—

A female PR executive laughed a little too loudly near Arjun.

Too close again.

Ruhe watched from a distance.

Chest tight.

Ridiculous.

I don’t care, she told herself.

I absolutely don’t—

Arjun looked up.

Saw Ruhe.

And stepped away from the woman instantly.

Didn’t explain.

Didn’t hesitate.

Walked straight toward Ruhe.

Every camera followed.

“Are you trying to ruin my career?” Ruhe hissed.

Arjun’s jaw tightened.

“No,” he said.

“I’m trying to stop pretending I don’t care.”

Her breath caught.

“This is dangerous,” she whispered.

“I know,” he replied.

“Which is why I’m choosing it.”

Bold.

Public.

Stupidly honest.

A reporter shouted,

“Captain! Is she your girlfriend?”

Ruhe stiffened.

Arjun didn’t look at the reporter.

He looked at her.

Asking.

Silent permission.

Her heart pounded.

She shook her head slightly.

Not yet.

Arjun turned back.

“My personal life,” he said clearly,

“is not your entertainment.”

Protective.

Firm.

Possessive—but respectful.

Ruhe felt something crack inside her.

That night.

Balcony.

City lights.

Tension thicker than humidity.

“You didn’t deny it,” Ruhe said quietly.

Arjun leaned on the railing beside her.

“I didn’t confirm it either.”

She smiled sadly.

“You’re good at playing safe shots.”

He turned to her fully.

“Only until the right ball comes.”

Their faces were inches apart.

Too close.

Breath mingling.

Time slowing.

His hand lifted—

hesitated—

then gently brushed her fingers.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured.

She didn’t.

Instead, she whispered,

“This is the worst decision I could make.”

He leaned in.

“So am I.”

Their lips almost met—

A phone rang.

Reality, once again, had terrible timing.

Ruhe stepped back.

Eyes glossy.

Voice unsteady.

“We can’t,” she said.

Arjun nodded.

But his eyes said something else.

Something dangerous.