HER POV:
The morning sunlight spilled through the large classroom windows, painting everything in gold. Students shuffled in, chatting, laughing, finding seats. Meera's backpack felt heavier than usual on her shoulders. Her nerves were tight coils in her stomach.
She had tried to convince herself last night that nothing had happened. That the phone messages were just a prank. That the shooting and blood and the threat were part of some nightmare she had woken up from.
But she knew the truth.
It wasn't a prank. It wasn't a dream.
Someone was watching. Someone dangerous. And she had no idea who.
She slipped into the classroom, head down, and moved toward an empty seat in the third row near the window. She liked being near the light. Near the window. It made her feel… safe. At least a little.
The chatter in the room shifted.
A presence entered.
Meera glanced up instinctively.
Adrian De Luca.
Even from a distance, he was impossible to ignore. Dark hair falling slightly into his eyes. Sharp jaw. Controlled posture. He didn't walk like a normal student — he moved like someone who owned the space without needing permission.
She swallowed.
Everyone knew his name.
"Rich, Dangerous,Untouchable." she murmured under her breath.
Her heart beat faster, though she couldn't explain why.
He didn't look at her.
Or at least, it didn't feel like he did.
He walked toward the back row and took his usual seat, calm and unreadable.
Meera forced her eyes back to her notebook.
Still, she couldn't stop glancing at him.
There was something unsettling about him. Something powerful. And yet… something strangely magnetic.
The professor's voice blurred into background noise. Her thoughts drifted back to the phone hidden inside her bag. The accidental recording. The blood. The anonymous warning messages.
Her fingers tightened around her pen.
She didn't notice when Adrian's gaze briefly lifted.
She only felt it — a faint prickle along her skin — before he looked away again.
He didn't know her.
He didn't know she had witnessed a murder.
And for now… that was her only safety.
HIS POV:
Adrian scanned the classroom the moment he entered.
He noticed noises , his classmates
After noticing environment in the class .
He slid into his seat in the back row and opened his notebook because its time for the lecture.
And the professor entered .
He is pretending to listen as the professor began speaking.
That's when he noticed someone.
Third row. Near the window.
She didn't belong in the loud chaos of the room. Her posture was tight. Alert. Like someone constantly preparing for impact.
Her fingers kept twisting the pen.
Her eyes flicked toward the window more than once.
Nervous.
Not bored,Not distracted, Uneasy.
Interesting.
He allowed himself one quiet glance.
The professor paused mid-lecture.
"Miss… you by the window. Introduce yourself."
Meera froze.
Every eye turned toward her.
Her throat went dry as she forced out, "M-Meera… Meera Sharma."
Adrian's pen stopped moving.
The name echoed sharply in his mind.
She felt it.
He saw the slight stiffening of her shoulders — the instinctive reaction of someone who sensed being watched.
Sharp instincts for someone who looked so soft.
He looked back down at his notes, expression unchanged.
Who are you?
He didn't usually notice people. They blurred into background noise.
But something about her pulled at his attention — not attraction, not curiosity exactly — something closer to recognition.
Like two paths crossing before a storm.
Now he knew her name.
He didn't know her past, her fears, or the weight she carried.
And yet, some quiet certainty rose inside him: she was going to matter.
This girl was going to matter.
Adrian's phone vibrated once in his pocket.
He ignored it.
Once.
Twice.
On the third vibration, irritation flickered through him. He slid the phone slightly into view beneath the desk.
UNKNOWN:We picked up unusual activity. Someone of interest is still nearby.
His thumb paused over the screen.
Nearby.
His gaze lifted slowly, sweeping the classroom — rows of unaware students, scattered movement, careless laughter.
Somewhere in this room.
Someone mattered.
His eyes lingered for half a second too long — then moved away again, expression unreadable.
He slipped the phone back into his pocket.