📖 **CHAPTER THREE — "The Devil in the Lecture Hall"**
---
### 💌 Author Note — From Aish L'Inarrestabile:
> *"Attenzione, miei lettori bollenti (attention, my steamy readers)... He followed her to university. In a three-piece suit. In a lecture hall. To learn? Never. To stare? Absolutely. If your man isn't attending business classes just to burn you alive with his eyes—he's not obsessed enough."*
> — *Aish L'Inarrestabile*
---
### 🔄 **Recap from Chapter 2 — "The Gala Glance":**
At the university gala, Aira Singh walked in wearing red, and Yuvraj Malhotra fell straight into obsession.
She turned away.
He grabbed her wrist.
Whispered Italian sin into her ear.
> "Mi sei mancata da prima ancora che ti conoscessi."
> *(I missed you before I even met you.)*
> She escaped. But not before receiving another message:
> "You shouldn't have looked at me like that. Now I can't unsee you."
> Now it's a new day. Aira's back to university. Hoping to avoid him.
> But kings never wait.
---
**AIRA**
He was sitting in the front row.
Black shirt. Rolled sleeves. Veins that could ruin national peace.
His jaw clenched like violence was a permanent emotion.
His hazel eyes?
Locked on me.
I froze at the door of the business lecture hall, heartbeat punching my ribs. This wasn't supposed to happen. This class—Advanced Global Strategy—wasn't mafia-certified territory. It was my normal space.
And there he was.
Yuvraj Malhotra.
**The devil himself. In my lecture hall.**
And damn it, he looked like sin reincarnated.
Tailored black trousers. No tie. Button-down shirt hugging a chest that had no business being legal. His watch glinted when he moved. His fingers were tattooed lightly near the wrist—something Sanskrit. Something sacred on someone completely unholy.
He didn't blink.
Didn't smirk.
Just watched me like he already owned every inch I walked on.
I snapped my chin up, walked past him like he was invisible, and sat two rows back—directly in his line of sight.
Fine.
If this was a game, I'd play it in stilettos.
I wore a cream blazer over a lace bodysuit and high-waisted tailored pants that hugged me like I'd invented fashion. My long black hair was pinned into a clean, brutal bun.
I looked like power.
Because that's what he wanted to break.
I wouldn't let him.
---
**YUVRAJ**
She walked in like she owned the world.
Cream and lace and war in five-foot-seven inches of rebellion.
Every man in the room looked.
Every man who looked?
I memorized their faces.
Her hair was up today—exposing the line of her neck. Her waist cinched by a belt I wanted to rip off with my teeth.
My hands clenched on the desk.
She didn't acknowledge me. Good. It made it more fun.
The professor spoke, but I didn't hear a word.
I didn't come here to learn mergers and capital.
I came to study **her**.
Every move. Every sigh. Every second she chewed the back of her pen with those full, cursed lips.
I leaned back.
She knew I was watching.
And when she finally glanced at me—
**She smirked.**
I grinned like a villain who just found a new weapon.
This wasn't flirtation.
This was warfare.
And I had every intention of losing just enough to get her beneath me.
---
**AIRA**
He stayed after class.
Of course he did.
I walked fast, heels slicing the hallway air.
But his voice followed.
Deep. Calm. Commanding.
> "Running again, amore?"
I stopped. Turned. Slowly.
"Following again, stalker?"
He stepped closer, and I felt it. That heat. That gravity.
"No," he said. "Upgrading."
I laughed once. Sharp. "You're not my upgrade."
His eyes dropped to my lips.
> "No. I'm your endgame."
I stepped back. "Don't talk to me in riddles."
> "Then let me be clear," he whispered. "You're not safe here anymore."
I tilted my head. "You threatening me?"
He smirked. "I'm warning you."
And then he stepped even closer. One hand against the wall beside my head. The other slipped a card into my hand.
A single line embossed in gold:
> *Malhotra Private Security. For your protection.*
> *Whether you ask for it or not.*
I dropped the card.
"You're insane."
"I'm interested."
I walked away.
And I didn't look back.
Because if I did…
I'd fall faster than I ever meant to.
---
**YUVRAJ**
She thinks walking away works.
It doesn't.
Not when she walks like a storm in heels.
Not when her back is the sexiest threat I've ever seen.
She dropped my card.
Fine.
She could drop it a thousand times.
I'd still show up when she needed me.
Even if she didn't want me to.
Because obsession isn't a hobby.
**It's my new religion.**
---
That night, Aira got a call.
Blocked number. Static on the line. Then a voice. Male. Cold.
> "Stay away from him, Aira Singh.
> Or you'll both die before midterms."
She froze.
The line went dead.
And the front gate camera showed a figure walking away in all black—
**Until he turned to the lens.**
And smiled.
---
### 💌 Author Note — From Aish L'Inarrestabile:
> *"Okay but—why do death threats always arrive when things are getting flirty? And why does that lecture hall feel hotter than hell? Chapter 4 is coming with revenge, obsession, and a bit more skin."*
> *Don't blink. He's already watching.*
> — *Aish L'Inarrestabile*
---
Comment down for chapter 4