The room felt unbearably tight for both MK and Shriya, as if the air itself were pressing their bodies apart while their thoughts kept pulling them dangerously close. Neither of them tried speaking. Neither dared. They just stood in the charged silence, hearts still stumbling over the kiss they hadn't expected and couldn't undo.
MK's breath was thin, her pulse a mess in her chest.
Shriya kept her back against the door, one hand dug into her hair, the other still trembling from where it had held MK.
No one was ready to address what happened.
No one knew how to start.
MK swallowed hard. "You can go out first. I'll follow."
Shriya flinched almost imperceptibly. "Okay."
She moved fast—too fast—and slipped out the door as if staying a second longer would break her into pieces. MK stared for a moment, steadying herself, then murmured under her breath:
"Why am I behaving like a teenager…"
She exhaled shakily, wiped her face, and forced herself to finish clearing the broken mirror. Her fingers still tingled from where Shriya had touched her. Her lips… she avoided thinking about them.
Outside, chaos waited.
Shriya stood between two clashing groups, her posture sharp, authoritative, her expression unreadable—except for the faint redness on her lips and cheeks, which she hid with a subtle turn of her head. Both parties talked at once, throwing accusations and jabs across the room, making it nearly impossible to piece together what happened.
"So," Shriya began, pointing at the group surrounding the CEO's heir, "you attacked first?"
"Yes," one of them said confidently. "Because he harassed my wife."
Shriya turned her gaze to the governor's son. "Did you?"
"No." His response was immediate, careless, entitled.
Shriya nodded. "He said no."
Just like that, she dismissed the accusation in the governor's favor. Not because she believed him—but because the man's father carried a political weight heavy enough to collapse entire businesses. Offending him? Dangerous.
"You can't just believe him!" the CEO's heir snapped. "Check the CCTV footage!"
"You can all leave now," Shriya said sharply. "Security will escort you out."
She turned to walk away.
Then stopped.
"Brian, what happened?" MK asked as she approached the tense circle.
Brian—Rebecca's husband—looked furious, gesturing toward the governor's group. "She—Rebecca—was harassed, and this head of security took their side and is throwing us out."
The guards began stepping forward, ready to drag Brian's group away.
Until Shriya spun back around.
"Not them." Her voice sliced the tension cleanly. "Them."
She pointed directly at the governor's son and his entourage.
The entire room froze.
Everyone stared.
"What—?" someone gasped.
Even Brian blinked, confused.
The governor's son's jaw dropped. For the first time in years, someone wasn't bowing to his lineage.
Shriya met MK's eyes—just for a moment, just long enough for MK to understand.
She had switched sides.
For her.
MK's heart flipped violently. She imagined crossing the room and kissing her again—right there, in front of everyone. She shook the thought away, horrified at herself but unable to stop the warmth blooming in her chest.
"You'll regret this," the governor's son—Gavin—spat. "You're just the head of security. I'll have you replaced."
Shriya turned her head slowly, offering him a stare so cold it made more than one person shiver.
"They are banned from this place," she said, voice like frost settling on stone.
"And every staff member and guard will enforce it."
Security nodded instantly.
MK had never seen this side of her. She'd heard stories—whispers of Shriya's authority, rumors of her temper, the legend-like aura surrounding her name—but seeing it firsthand was different. Terrifying. Magnetic.
It didn't feel like the same woman who had kissed her breathless against a wall minutes ago.
"For a second," Brian whispered to MK, still in disbelief, "I thought we were the ones being thrown out."
Before MK could respond, Brian frowned. "Wait… where's Rebecca? She came looking for you."
"I haven't seen her," MK said. "And why are you all acting like being thrown out is the end of the world?"
The man nearest them laughed softly. "Because this place is paradise. Everything you'd ever want is in one place."
"And that lady?" MK tilted her head toward where Shriya was giving orders across the room.
"Shriya?" another answered. "She's the head of security here. What she says goes. Literally."
"Who owns this place?" MK asked, watching the room curiously as people returned to their games, drinks, and conversations like nothing had happened.
"No one knows." Brian plopped into a seat, grabbing a controller as it became his turn in the game.
Before MK could ask more, Rebecca stormed back in, a frown etched across her face. She dropped beside MK with a dramatic sigh.
"You wouldn't believe what just happened," she said.
MK raised an eyebrow. "I do, actually. Turns out Shriya is the head of security here."
Rebecca blinked. "Shriya? As in your Shriya?"
MK slapped her hand over Rebecca's mouth instantly. "Quiet," she whispered sharply.
The man beside them perked up, leaning in. "You know Shriya?"
The others paused mid-game, controllers in the air, suddenly interested.
MK panicked, but Rebecca laughed lightly and waved it off.
"No, she doesn't. I was teasing her."
The room relaxed.
MK didn't.
Her mind was still replaying the moment Shriya turned, met her eyes, and risked her position for her.
The rest of the night went smoother than she expected. People joked, played games, ordered drinks, and the earlier commotion dissolved into background noise. MK tried to relax, but her thoughts kept drifting back—
to the kiss,
to Shriya's breathless expression,
to the way her hands had held MK like she still belonged there.
She eventually stood up, brushing imaginary dust off her clothes. "I'm heading out," she told the group.
Rebecca's husband offered her a ride, but MK shook her head—Rebecca was riding with him, and MK had brought her own car anyway.
She just needed air.
Distance.
Time.
The moment she stepped outside, the cold night washed over her skin—cool, grounding, but not enough to calm the heat still lingering beneath her ribs.
Because Shriya was still somewhere inside that club.