KRITI POV

AT UNIVERSITY

“YOU BITCH!” Everly jumps on me from behind, holding me in a headlock. This girl and her habits of pouncing on me every now and then like I'm her personal boxing bag.

“Ugh! Fine fine fine…I tap out…” I tap her elbow thrice and she lets go of me, all while frowning, mirroring my own.

“What's with that attitude of yours? Did someone spit in your morning coffee or something?” She eyes me curiously and I grimace at the mental image of someone spitting in my coffee.

“God, eww! No, oh god! Shut up Eve. It's just that-” I sigh and I look at her.

“I'm done with life-”

“OHH HO HO! BOO FUCKING HOOO! This is not my Kriti. What's wrong with you? Gurl. You just need food, I guess, alcohol maybe. We'll party tonight.” She gives me her best sarcastic smile before hugging me sideways and I chuckle.

Yes, a party is all I need to forget HIM.

Wow.

My obsession isn't even that big and look how he's messing with my mind.

IN CLASS

Silence falls over as our family law Professor enters, Ms. Maya Sharma, a petite woman with black locks and a figure that sends men on the their knees with just a sway of her hips, in short, a literal Goddess figure.

“Silence.” She speaks and then flashes us her gorgeous smile.

“As you all know, our university gala is round the corner and as usual, all the neighbouring universities are invited-” she trails off and gives us a knowing look, “let's show them yet again what REGAL has got.”

Loud hoots and cheering breaks out in the lecture hall and it's true, our university has been receiving the award for the best gala since it started and it goes centuries back

THE REGAL, started by the Britishers in the late 1700's is now one of the most famous law and business school's of India and it's a known fact but what only a few people know is that it's run by the American Mafia, La Cosa Nostra and the current head is Everly's father.

I know too much information but that's how things are. Here when people are cut open? They don't bleed blood but drugs, money and corruption.

I look around bored and as usual the girls will be screaming at the top of their lungs for the runway walk and who'll do the opening and closing. I nearly jump out of my skin as someone loudly bangs their hand on my table.

This BITCH.

I glare at her, Cara White, daughter of a famous Industrialist, Mark White and ex-prima ballerina, Lily Will and my biggest hater, whoops FANGIRL, that's what I like to call her.

She glares at me, her blue eyes full of disdain and underlying jealousy and speaks in her thick american accent,

“You will not open the ceremony this year. It'll be me and I don't care about your father or brother being in the mafia. You've been doing it for years and-”

“Winning.” I finish her sentence with a smile of my own.

“You bitch.” She grits out and now the entire focus is on.

Great, just what I needed after a shitty morning.

“I will be opening the ceremony this year, by hook or by crook.” She gives me a menacing smile, is this where I am supposed to act scared or cower?

I stand up and give her a smile, a mocking one.

“Do not copy paste my dialogues on me babygirl. Doesn't suit you.”

“You fucking-” she snarls and grabs my hair, yanking my head to the other side and a collective gasp could be heard, including mine.

She started it but me? I'll gladly end it.

I yank her hand off of my hair and I grab her in a very painful grip. I'm not some crybaby, Bhai literally spent 21 years of his life teaching me martial arts.

“Ahhhh, let go of me. Ouch.” She glares, trying too hard to hide her pain but that only fuels my anger.

She'll break.

She has to.

“Apologise.”

“What? Over my rich hot dea- Ahhhh.”

I tighten my grip, pulling her hair down.

“Fine fine finee. Sorry, ouch!! Let go off me you bitch-”

“WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE?!” An authoritative voice breaks in, cutting through the chaotic environment of the lecture hall but I don't let go, not yet.

I look up along with others at the source of the voice and oh! It's my baby.

I was about to smile but suddenly remembered the position I'm in.

Note to self: Admire him later.

“What is happening- OH GOD! Ms.Singh!! Release Ms. White now.” Abhimaan speaks with full authority, leaving no room for argument.

“No”. I say while looking down at her who's on the verge of crying.

“Excuse me?”

“Excused, Prof.” I look at him before shifting my attention back to her and I swear, I saw the slight tick in his jaw. This is too much fun.

“Apologise for ruining my hair and for being a bitch-” I say calmly yet with an underlying threat.

“Ms Singh if you don't release Ms White, you'll be suspended from the Gala, effective immediately.” He warns and I look up at him, glaring.

“She started it”.

“And I don't care who did it or not. This is an Educational institution and you have rules to follow and you all will follow the rules.” He snaps all while glaring at him and my grip tightens on her but she groans in pain and I let go of her, more like shoving her off me.

“In my office now.” With that he walks out and I scoff.

I glare at her as I mutter, “Bitch”. And with that I walk out with my bag over my shoulder, towards his office.

Did I mention how hot he looks when angry?!

I knock before entering.

“You asked for me?”

“Care to explain your behaviour back there?”

“No. I didn't do anything wrong. She attacked me first.”

He scoffs, did I crack a joke?

“Attack you say? Pray tell me how it was an attack?”

“She gripped my hair first and yanked my head sideways. I did what she deserved and cherry on top? She ruined my blow-dry.” I look at him who's busy typing something on his phone with a soft smile.

Is he texting his fiancé? Stupidity.

He raises his brow at me, keeping his phone aside as he rests his elbows on the table and chin on top of his knuckles, giving me a perfect view of his toned forearms.

Does a forearm kink or feetish exist? If yes? Then I'm a prey of it.

“I see. Don't think I'll go easy on you cause you happen to be my best friend's daughter.” He speaks.

“Don't worry, Prof. I am anything but a little cry baby who'll go back to her father just cause her professor scolded her. I'm better than that.”

“Highly doubt it.” He mutters quietly.

“What?” I ask as I cross my arms.

He raises his brow and scoffs, “Drop the attitude Ms Singh. I perfectly know how brats like you should be treated.”

Did he just?

He did.

“You-”

“I am not done yet and you do not interrupt me while I talk. Clear?” He speaks firmly, leaving me no choice but to agree. I nod.

“Words, Ms Singh.”

“Y-yes sir.” Fuck me sideways. Did I just stutter?

His mouth twitches slightly but it's gone as soon as it appears.

“Last warning Ms Singh, next time? No warning but straight up for consequences. You may go now and close the door on your way out.”

He dismisses me like that.

The audacity he has.

I huff in annoyance before walking out but he stops me and I turn towards him.

“Yes?”

“Wear decent clothes.”

He WHAT NOW-

He continues, “Cover yourself. You're here to study and not some fashion show. Dismissed.”

I stare at him with pure disbelief before walking out shaking with anger and annoyance and I skipped all the other classes for the day. Not in the mood nor the power to attend.

I take, more like snatch the car keys from Nikhil, my bodyguard.

“No Ma'am. I cannot allow this.” He speaks in his monotonous voice and I glare at him.

“I am neither in the best mood, nor in any other shit. Get out of the way before I force you.”

“No Ma'am. I can't and I'm sorry.”

I kick the car tyre and I grab his collar but he's unphased, all used to my antics.

“Last chance. Get out or else I'll call dad and tell him that you touched me inappropriately.” I would NEVER, Nikhil would protect me with his life but right now? I'm seeing red thereby making me speak stuff.

His eyes widen and panic is clear in his dark brown orbs before he reluctantly pulls aside.

“Can I atleast-”

“Absolutely not Nikhil. I am not a kid and I can drive.” With that I drive off, leaving behind a frowning Nikhil who types something on his phone and within seconds he's out of my view.

“Everything sucks. Literally. Figuratively. Ahhhh- Abhimaan Singh Rathore.” I shout as I drive towards the safe house.

“You will come around either willingly or unwillingly but you eventually will, Baby.” I smirk to myself as I apply my lipgloss while looking in the rear view mirror and I enter the safehouse.

“Home sweet home-” I mutter before a sharp pain breaks on my skull and everything turns black.

Safe house or murder house?

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ABHIMAAN POV

Fascinating.

This was the first word my mind came up with when I saw her gripping the hair of Kara or Klara, who cares.

Well, I should as she's my student but now? I'm more focused on my girl.

I tried to de-escalate the situation by playing the “perfect professor” but when she straight up said no?

Oh ho ho, the audacity of this girl.

After calming down everything and when I finally got her alone and spoke about her “Daddy's little girl” privileges and taunted her about her clothes?

Her expressions were worth seeing.

Rage, Humiliation and Annoyance, all mixed together making her look more cute.

Nah, but the way she dresses up? Especially her fit today? It took all my willpower not to walk up to her, yank her skirt up and spank her till she's writhing beneath me.

After she walked out, I saw her walking out of the university directly, I was watching her through my window and my jaw clenched at the particular scene that played out in front of me and I'm surprised why my teeth didn't break.

She grabbed the collars of another ma

n, even though it's in a threatening manner, still.

She cannot do it.

I smirk thinking how much I'll enjoy breaking her spirit and then moulding it according to my will.

“Soon, pretty girl, soon.”

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