Kabir Rathod did not believe in coincidences.
Everything in his life happened because he allowed it to happen. People entered his world only when he wanted them to. Faces blurred, names were forgotten—but control always remained in his hands.
Until that day.
Until her.
Kabir stood inside the conference room of Rathod Industries, listening half-heartedly to a presentation about new interns joining the company. Interns rarely caught his attention. They came and went, nervous, hopeful, insignificant to his world of power.
"Sir, the shortlisted candidates will arrive today for document verification," his assistant informed him.
Kabir nodded absentmindedly, his mind already drifting elsewhere.
And then the glass door opened.
She walked in quietly.
No dramatic entrance. No confidence-filled stride.
Yet something shifted.
Kabir's eyes moved to her without permission.
Aara Sharma.
She wore a simple outfit, her hair loosely tied, eyes alert yet cautious. There was nervousness in her posture—but beneath it, strength. Not fragile. Not weak.
Kabir felt it instantly.
Different.
She stood among the other interns, holding her file tightly, unaware of the man watching her from across the room.
Kabir didn't blink.
For the first time in years, something unfamiliar stirred in his chest.
Interest.
Later, from his cabin, Kabir watched through the glass walls as the interns completed formalities. His assistant noticed his silence.
"Is something wrong, sir?"
Kabir's gaze never left her. "The girl in the third row. Name?"
"Aara Sharma, sir. Final-year student. Excellent academic record."
Kabir leaned back slowly.
Sharma.
A common surname. An uncommon presence.
"Find out more," he said calmly.
The assistant hesitated. "Personally or professionally, sir?"
Kabir's eyes darkened.
"Everything."
That evening, Kabir sat alone in his study at home. The city lights reflected on the glass walls, but his attention was on the file in his hand.
Aara Sharma.
Simple background.
Single mother.
One younger brother.
Father abandoned them years ago.
Kabir's jaw tightened.
He didn't like weakness—but he respected survival.
Her life had been stripped of comfort early, yet she stood straight.
His phone buzzed.
"Any criminal connections?" Kabir asked coldly.
"No, sir. Clean. Completely."
Kabir exhaled slowly.
Good.
Too good.
That night, Kabir found himself thinking about her more than he should have.
Her eyes.
Her silence.
The way she held herself—like someone who had learned not to expect help.
He didn't understand why she mattered.
He had never allowed a woman into his thoughts before. Desire was easy. Attachment was dangerous.
And Kabir Rathod did not get attached.
Yet here he was.
Wondering what made her smile.
Wondering what made her afraid.
Wondering what she would do if she ever discovered the darkness behind his name.
Across the city, Aara returned home that evening with mixed emotions.
The office had been intimidating.
The building too big.
The man at the top floor—unseen, unnamed—felt powerful even in absence.
She didn't know why, but she felt watched.
She brushed the feeling away.
"This is just an internship," she whispered to herself.
She didn't know that Kabir Rathod had already memorized her name.
She didn't know that his controlled world had cracked—just slightly.
And she certainly didn't know that this first meeting—silent and distant—was the beginning of something dangerous.
Because when Kabir Rathod started thinking about someone…
He never stopped.