The office was too pristine—like it had been scrubbed with silence and secrets. Rehaan ran his gloved fingers along the edge of the shelf, opening a drawer that held nothing more than branded pens, slick files, and the lingering scent of an expensive cologne.
He crouched slightly to check the lower compartment when a breath—warm and intentional—fanned against the back of his neck."There's nothing inside," came a low voice behind him. "I don't keep papers in there, little agent."Rehaan froze.That voice wasn't close.It was too close.He slowly turned, his back brushing against the cold edge of the metal shelf—and there he was.Vihaan Roy.Standing in his space, invading without a single step.Their faces were almost touching, only inches apart. Vihaan's eyes scanned Rehaan's face before leisurely dropping to his neck—where the collar had slipped just enough for the old bite mark to peek through. A wicked curve played across his lips."Feisty…" Vihaan said, voice barely a whisper, "…but carrying someone else's mark, hmm?"Rehaan stiffened.He was caught between the scent of power and something dangerously familiar.Vihaan stepped back, slowly, like a predator retreating—but only to enjoy the chase later."You won't find anything," Vihaan said louder now, more formal. "Told you, little agent—I don't keep records in here."Kiaan, who was across the room still flipping through a cabinet, snapped the drawer shut hard. His patience was thinning."This is useless," he muttered.Just then, Vihaan's assistant stepped forward, voice shrill and defensive. "You've already searched the entire room, and you don't even have a warrant. This behavior toward Mr. Roy is unacceptable. You're clearly harassing a respectable business—""Shut it," Kiaan cut in, eyes sharp. "You don't get to lecture us on legality when a kilo of illegal narcotics was found routed through your employer's airline."Vihaan only chuckled, smoothing the crease in his sleeve as if unbothered. "I told you… you're looking in the wrong places, Captain."Kiaan turned abruptly and walked out, boots clicking hard against the polished floor. Dev gave Rehaan a brief glance before following him out.Rehaan lingered at the doorway, his shoulders tense, body still unsure whether it wanted to fight or flee.
And then—again—that voice."Hey."
Rehaan turned, already knowing."Little agent," Vihaan said, lounging by the desk now, fingers lazily turning a glass paperweight. "What about dinner tonight?"
Rehaan narrowed his eyes. "Are you flirting with an officer mid-investigation?"Vihaan's smirk deepened, sharp as a dagger but smooth as silk. "Not flirting. Just… suggesting your best option."He walked forward, stopping just a foot away again. "You want answers. And maybe, just maybe, if you come dressed in black and sit across from me tonight… something might slip from my mouth. Something… useful."Rehaan held his ground, lips pressed tight—but he wasn't breathing properly. Not with those eyes fixed on him. Not with that memory of the club night haunting his skin."I don't mix work with…""With what?" Vihaan cut in. "Pleasure?"Rehaan's eyes flared.Vihaan leaned down, whispering low and lethal.
"Then maybe it's time to question which one of us is doing the mixing."Rehaan didn't answer.Didn't trust himself to.He simply turned and left—this time the click of his boots felt like thunder against the marble.
Behind him, Vihaan smiled to himself.
Because the hunt… had just begun.
The air inside the car was heavy—thicker than usual.Kiaan sat in the back seat, arms crossed tightly over his chest, his brows furrowed so deep it looked like he was battling a war within. Dev was driving, calm but quiet, knowing better than to provoke Kiaan when he was in this particular mood—the kind where his mind ran faster than his words and his temper was barely on a leash.Rehaan sat in the passenger seat, staring at his phone. The screen lit up again.
A new message.From Vihaan Roy."7:30 PM. Black suit. I'll pick you up. Don't be late. You're the only thing on the menu tonight."
Rehaan blinked, his thumb hovering over the screen. He didn't move, didn't breathe for a second. Then… he read it again.And again.
Kiaan noticed the shift. "What?"Rehaan hesitated. "…He messaged."Dev glanced over from the wheel. "Who?""…Vihaan Roy."
Kiaan's head shot up instantly. "What did he say?"Rehaan handed him the phone.Kiaan read the message, his jaw tightening by the second. "Is he playing with us or flirting with you?""Both," Rehaan replied honestly, trying to mask the confusion in his voice with dry sarcasm. "He said dinner. Tonight. He'll pick me up."Dev let out a sharp breath, one that could've passed for a laugh or a sigh—maybe both. "And you're going?"Rehaan looked out the window. "I don't know."Kiaan leaned forward suddenly. "You shouldn't."
Rehaan turned to him. "Why not? What if he does say something? What if he drops a lead?""You think he'll casually spill drug operations over steak and wine?" Kiaan snapped. "He's not some dumb rich brat—he's calculated. He knows we're watching. He wants to see how far we'll go.""But what if he underestimates us?" Rehaan shot back. "What if me going feeds that ego of his—and he slips?"Dev hummed. "It's risky. But it's also the only way in he's offering."Kiaan sat back, raking a hand through his hair. "And you're okay being bait, Rehaan?"Rehaan's lips curled slightly. "I've been called worse."
There was a long pause."You trust him?" Kiaan asked, quieter now.Rehaan didn't answer. Because the truth was complicated. He didn't trust Vihaan.But he felt something.
Something sharp. Dangerous. Unnamed.
"No," Rehaan finally said. "But I trust myself."Kiaan let out a slow exhale. "Then we'll shadow you. I'm not letting you walk into the lion's den alone."Rehaan nodded. "Just don't blow my cover. If he's testing me, I need to play it cool."Dev smirked. "Then don't blush like a high schooler if he leans too close."Rehaan rolled his eyes. "Shut up."
Kiaan, still fuming, didn't laugh. "Don't let your emotions override the mission. You're not going for fun—you're going for intel. Eyes open, Rehaan."Rehaan nodded again, this time more firmly."I know."As the car turned down the HQ street, the sky outside began to darken. The clock was ticking, the city humming with secrets.And somewhere behind an empire of glass towers and iron gates, Vihaan Roy was already setting the table—
—for a dinner laced with danger, power, and a side of obsession.
At exactly 7:30 PM, the low purr of a luxury black car echoed through the quiet street in front of Rehaan's apartment. The headlights cut through the evening haze as the sleek vehicle pulled up with mechanical grace.
Inside, behind the dark-tinted window, Vihaan Roy sat with a subtle smirk playing on his lips.And right there—on the sidewalk—stood Rehaan, dressed in black.Simple. Sharp. Devastatingly composed.Vihaan lowered the window slightly. "Now that's punctuality. And in black, too? You trying to match my car, little agent?"Rehaan rolled his eyes but didn't respond to the tease. "You're late.Vihaan chuckled. "Fashionably. You're lucky I came at all. My time's expensive."
Rehaan arched a brow. "Then maybe you should value it better than wasting it on someone who bites back."Vihaan's grin widened like a wolf meeting its prey. "Oh, I like when you talk like that. Come in."
Rehaan stepped into the car. The moment the door clicked shut, the entire world outside felt like it vanished. Inside this car—it was just the two of them. And the unspoken history they shared.Vihaan didn't take him to a restaurant.Instead, he drove straight through the heart of the city until they turned into a secluded private drive lined with trimmed hedges and tall metallic gates. The gates slid open without a word—guards nodding in silent respect—and the car slipped into the driveway of a stunning, towering penthouse villa that stood like a silent kingdom over the skyline.The house wasn't crowded. In fact, it was eerily private.
Only two uniformed staff greeted them at the door before quickly vanishing behind a corridor.Vihaan walked ahead. "Come on. Dinner's hot. Just like my guest."Rehaan followed, unsure whether to roll his eyes or stay alert. The architecture was modern—clean lines, soft golden lights, open glass walls that showed the city sparkling far below. The tension in Rehaan's chest only deepened when they entered the dining space.Because the table…Was filled with all of his favorite dishes.From the roasted chicken in lemon glaze to the rare Thai curry he mentioned once months ago in passing. Even his favorite dessert sat perfectly placed at the end of the table.Rehaan stared, caught off guard.Vihaan poured wine into a glass. "I don't forget details. If I like something…" He walked over, leaned in close—too close—and whispered, "...then I don't leave out a single date or detail of it."
Rehaan swallowed hard. "You do this with all your guests?"Vihaan chuckled, sitting across from him. "I don't have guests. I have prey, partners, and very specific addictions."
They started eating. Conversation danced around everything but the obvious. Rehaan tried to steer things toward work, but Vihaan was too slick, too comfortable.And then—
Vihaan leaned back, swirling the wine in his glass lazily, eyes on Rehaan's face.
"Still hurting?" he asked softly.Rehaan frowned. "What?""Your body," Vihaan clarified, eyes flashing mischief. "Your back. Is it still sore?"There was a second of pure silence.Rehaan's fork stilled mid-air.Then the pieces clicked.His expression dropped slightly, more from realization than shock. His voice came out low. "It was you. That night. In the club."Vihaan smiled. No denial. No theatrics."Correct.""You knew who I was?" Rehaan asked, voice strained.
Vihaan stood, walked around the table slowly, wine glass still in hand. He stopped beside Rehaan's chair, looking down at him.
"No," he said honestly. "Not then. But I remembered the bite mark. And your silence. I like people who don't scream easily."Rehaan stood too, facing him now—tension sharp between them."Was this all a trap?"Vihaan smirked. "If I was setting traps, Agent, you wouldn't have walked out of that club alive. No, Rehaan…" He leaned closer again, voice quieter now, rougher. "This is something else.""What?"Vihaan didn't blink. "I like you."There it was.Raw. Unfiltered. Direct.Rehaan's breath hitched.Vihaan added softly, "And before you ask—yes, I know how reckless that sounds. But I don't care. I get what I want."Rehaan's heart was pounding in his ears. Every instinct as an agent told him to back away. But something—curiosity, confusion, or maybe something darker—kept his feet rooted.Vihaan's voice softened. "I don't do lies. So I'll say this once—what I want from you is mine to take. But what you want from me?" He smirked. "That, little agent, will cost you something."Rehaan finally stepped back. "Dinner's over."Vihaan didn't stop him.He just smiled.Because in this war of control, both men knew—
The game had just truly begun.