Kiara's glare could have cut glass. "You are excused," she shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I know your type very well. First, you play the hero and 'rescue' the heroine just to win her over. But I'm not like other girls. I won't fall for you just because you are hot—" Her eyes involuntarily flickered down his torso, taking in his well-defined physique and the open collar of his shirt, before snapping back to his face, "—handsome, and have long hair."
Yuvaan didn't look offended; he looked amused. A slow, infuriating smile spread across his face. "Well," he began, his tone lazy and condescending, "I don't need you to fall for me. Because I'm not a hero." He leaned forward slightly, his dark eyes glinting. "I'm a villain. And there isn't a heroine here, either."
Kiara's eyes widened at his audacity. She placed a hand on her chest in mock sympathy. "I'm so sorry."
Yuvaan raised a single, perfect eyebrow. "For what?"
"Because I didn't know you were blind," she retorted, her voice sweet as poison. "How can you not see me?"
At that, Yuvaan let out a short, genuine laugh. He pushed off from the car and slowly, deliberately, looked her up and down. His gaze was a physical touch, assessing, dismissive. Then, he casually sat back on the hood of the car, crossing his arms.
"Heroines," he stated, as if explaining a simple concept to a child, "are hot. They are sexy. They are beautiful." He paused, letting his eyes meet hers one last time, a smirk playing on his lips. "But you? You are… so-so."
Kiara's jaw dropped. All the breath left her body in a stunned whoosh. For a second, she was utterly speechless. No one, in her entire life, had ever described her as 'so-so'.
"What?" she finally spluttered, her voice rising an octave. "I'm so-so?!"
The carefully constructed image of the charming, grateful damsel was completely shattered. In its place was a fuming, indignant, and utterly captivating young woman. And Yuvaan, watching the fire in her eyes, knew his plan was working perfectly. Annoyance was a far more potent and interesting emotion than gratitude. It would keep her engaged, keep her coming back.
The game was on.
"Do you even know who I am?" Kiara's voice was sharp with wounded pride. "I'm Kiara Shetty! Boys would die for a photo with me! I have thousands of comments and friend requests on Facebook, Instagram, and TikTok. I'm a model! And you call me so-so?"
Yuvaan gave a lazy shrug, the picture of nonchalance. "I guess the world is blind, then."
"No, not the world! You are blind!" she shot back, jabbing a finger in his direction. "You should get your eyes treated!"
"This is strange," Yuvaan mused, tilting his head with feigned hurt. "I saved you from goons. Instead of thanking me, you're doubting and arguing with me." He placed a hand over his heart dramatically. "It hurts."
"How do I know you weren't in cahoots with them?" Kiara challenged, her hands on her hips.
In a flash, Yuvaan closed the distance between them. His hand shot out, grabbing her wrist and pulling her close until mere inches separated them. Her breath hitched, her wide eyes locked on his.
"If I was with them," he said, his voice a low, dangerous whisper, "you were with me the whole night. I would have taken advantage of you." His dark eyes scanned her face with deliberate dismissal. "But I didn't. Because you weren't worth it."
He released her just as suddenly, leaving her standing there, stunned and deeply offended.
"Go home," he said, turning his back to her as he walked towards his car. "And learn to say two words to the world: Thank You."
Fury boiled within her. "You go to the hospital and get your eyes treated!" she yelled at his retreating back. She spun on her heel to march away, but his voice stopped her.
"Wait."
Before she could process it, his hand was on her arm again, pulling her back. She lost her balance, stumbling against his solid chest. His other arm snaked around her waist to steady her. For a heart-stopping moment, they were pressed together, their faces close, their eyes locked in a charged, silent battle. Above them, the sky momentarily darkened as if a cloud had passed over the sun, though neither noticed, caught in the intensity of the moment.
Kiara shoved herself away, her heart hammering. "What is the meaning of this?"
Without answering, Yuvaan finally walked to his car, opened the door, and pulled out her phone. He had already deleted the message he'd sent to Anya. He handed it to her.
"I found this in the club," he said, his tone now casual, almost bored. "It had your display photo. I guessed it belonged to you."
Kiara snatched it from him, checking it quickly. "I would have thanked you," she seethed, "but you just ruined my morning!" Without another word, she stormed to the roadside, hailed a passing cab, and slammed the door shut.
As the cab drove away, Yuvaan's smirk returned, wider and more genuine this time.
"I've laid the first foundation," he murmured to himself, a plan unfolding perfectly in his mind. "You all must be wondering why I started an argument." He chuckled, a low, confident sound. "Because for love to begin, they must be fights. From enemies to friends… from friends to lovers… and slowly, slowly, I will make her fall head over heels for this Warlock."
He smiled, a predator satisfied with the first, perfect step of his hunt.