From the entrance of the corridor, Ivaan watched everything.
The introduction.
The conversation.
The handshake.
Every single second.
His jaw tightened.
His expression remained unreadable to everyone else.
But inside?
He was far from calm.
Ethan Blackwell stood there laughing with Ishira as if they had known each other for years.
And Ishira...
She was smiling.
Actually smiling.
For a brief moment, Ivaan's grip tightened around his phone.
A dangerous thought crossed his mind.
One that belonged to the king of the underworld.
Not to Professor Mehra.
Unfortunately for Ethan, the mafia king inside him was far more active than the professor.
His eyes darkened.
The urge to walk over there and wipe that smile off Ethan's face was becoming very tempting.
Very tempting.
But he couldn't.
Not here.
Not at Blackwood.
Not while he was wearing the mask of a professor.
The thought alone irritated him.
Meanwhile, Ishira finally looked toward the trustees' office.
And instantly caught him staring.
She froze.
For a second.
Then something unexpected happened.
A slow smile appeared on her lips.
She knew.
She absolutely knew.
The realization made her secretly enjoy the moment.
For once...
The great Ivaan Mehra looked annoyed.
And she was the reason.
Ethan noticed the sudden change in her expression.
"What happened?"
Ishira shook her head.
"Nothing."
But her eyes briefly drifted back toward Ivaan.
Big mistake.
Because now Ethan followed her gaze.
Straight toward him.
The moment Ethan met Ivaan's eyes—
His smile vanished.
Completely.
The atmosphere shifted.
Ivaan hadn't moved.
Hadn't spoken.
Hadn't even changed his posture.
Yet somehow his gaze alone was enough.
Cold.
Sharp.
Dominating.
The kind of look that made people instinctively step back.
Ethan swallowed.
Suddenly finding the corridor much less comfortable.
Across the hall, a faint smirk appeared on Ishira's face.
She had never seen anyone get intimidated that quickly.
But Ivaan's stare was something else.
A silent warning.
One that needed no words.
And judging by Ethan's expression...
The message had been received loud and clear.
Very slowly...
A smirk appeared on Ivaan's face.
The kind that never meant anything good.
"You're about to find out."
And with that, he walked past her.
Leaving Ishira standing in the corridor.
Confused.
Annoyed.
And somehow curious about what he meant.
Which was exactly what Ivaan intended.
The evening rain continued to pour outside Mooncrest Villa, the luxurious mansion Ishira and Kiara had called home for years.
Their room looked like a battlefield.
Books scattered everywhere.
Laptops open.
Notes covering almost every inch of the study table.
Tomorrow's assignments were proving to be a nightmare.
Or at least they would have been...
If Ishira was actually paying attention.
Instead, she sat with a pen in her hand, staring blankly at her notebook.
Completely lost in thought.
Unfortunately for her, Kiara noticed everything.
After watching Ishira write the same word three times, Kiara finally slammed her notebook shut.
The sound made Ishira jump.
"What?"
Kiara narrowed her eyes.
"Where are you?"
"I'm right here."
"No."
Kiara pointed at her.
"Your body is here."
"Kiara."
"Your soul is somewhere else."
Ishira rolled her eyes.
"I'm studying."
"Really?"
"Yes."
Kiara grabbed her notebook.
Then showed it to her.
Ishira froze.
Across half the page she had unconsciously written:
Iva—
Then scribbled it out.
Then written it again.
Then scribbled it out again.
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Kiara's mouth slowly opened.
"Oh."
"Give me that."
"Oh my God."
"Kiara."
"Oh my God."
Ishira immediately snatched the notebook away.
Her cheeks warming slightly.
Kiara collapsed onto the bed dramatically.
"The Devil has officially entered your brain."
"He has not."
"Then why are you writing his name?"
"I wasn't."
"You literally were."
"It was an accident."
"Three times?"
Ishira threw a pillow at her.
Kiara laughed harder.
The sound filled the entire room.
Eventually, both girls settled down.
Though Kiara still looked suspiciously amused.
After a few moments she sighed.
"I'm bored."
"Same."
"My brain is dead."
"Same."
"We should go out."
Ishira looked up.
"What?"
Kiara sat up instantly.
A dangerous smile appearing on her face.
"We've been studying for hours."
"Thirty minutes."
"That's basically hours."
"No, it isn't."
"Details."
Ishira laughed despite herself.
Kiara immediately grabbed her arm.
"Come on."
"Where?"
"I don't know."
"Great plan."
"We'll figure it out."
Ishira glanced toward the rain-covered windows.
The city lights of Manhattan glowed beautifully beyond them.
Honestly...
Fresh air didn't sound bad.
Especially because staying here meant thinking.
And thinking meant remembering.
Ivaan.
His smirk.
His stupid comments.
His stupid face.
His stupid everything.
"Fine."
Kiara immediately jumped off the bed.
"YES."
"Calm down."
"No."
Within minutes, both girls were changing outfits and getting ready.
Neither of them knew that tonight was about to become far more interesting than a simple drive through Manhattan.
And somewhere across the city...
The Devil himself was having a very different evening.
The city glittered beneath the Manhattan skyline.
Far above the streets, inside the top floor of Venus Tower, a private bar overlooked the entire city.
The atmosphere was dim.
Expensive whiskey.
Soft jazz playing in the background.
Rain sliding down the floor-to-ceiling windows.
And sitting in the center of it all...
Was Ivaan Mehra.
A glass rested in his hand as he lazily leaned back on the leather couch.
Across from him sat the only person who could speak to him without fear.
Zyan Khanna.
Best friend.
Business partner.
And one of the few people alive who knew exactly how dangerous Ivaan truly was.
Zyan took a sip of his drink before looking at him.
"You've been unusually quiet."
Ivaan remained focused on the city lights.
"Hmm."
"See?"
"What?"
"That."
Zyan pointed at him.
"That's your thinking face."
"I'm not thinking."
"You're lying."
Ivaan finally glanced at him.
Zyan smirked.
Dangerous.
Annoying.
The kind of smirk only best friends got away with.
Then Zyan asked the question.
"Is it Ishira?"
Silence.
That was answer enough.
Zyan immediately laughed.
"Oh, this is amazing."
Ivaan's eyes narrowed.
"Careful."
"No."
Zyan sat forward.
"The great Ivaan Mehra."
"Zyan."
"Thinking about a girl."
Ivaan took a slow sip of whiskey.
Completely unbothered.
At least on the outside.
"I don't think about people."
"Sure."
"I don't."
"Then why did you spend half the afternoon staring at her?"
That got his attention.
Ivaan slowly placed the glass on the table.
"Who's spying on me?"
"I don't need spies."
Zyan shrugged.
"The entire university is talking about it."
Ivaan's expression darkened.
The thought clearly displeased him.
Unfortunately for him...
Zyan wasn't done.
"Actually."
A smirk appeared on his face.
"I heard she was talking to some guy today."
The room suddenly became quieter.
Very quieter.
Ivaan already knew who he was talking about.
Ethan Blackwell.
The student council president.
The guy who had shaken Ishira's hand.
The guy who had smiled at her.
The guy who had existed within a five-foot radius of her.
Zyan noticed the change immediately.
And almost laughed.
Almost.
"You know his name."
Ivaan didn't answer.
Which was answer enough.
"Oh my God."
"Stop."
"You know his name."
"Zyan."
"This is getting serious."
Ivaan picked up his glass.
His jaw tightening slightly.
A dangerous sign.
"I don't like him."
The statement came out cold.
Direct.
Simple.
Zyan burst out laughing.
"You don't even know him."
"I know enough."
"Such as?"
"He talks too much."
"You spoke to him?"
"No."
Silence.
Then Zyan laughed even harder.
"You decided that without speaking to him?"
"He looks like he talks too much."
At this point, Zyan nearly spilled his drink.
For the first time in years...
The feared King of the Mafia sounded irrational.
And the reason was obvious.
A girl.
Meanwhile, Ivaan stared out at the rain-soaked city.
His expression unreadable.
But one thought kept repeating in his head.
The way Ishira had smiled while talking to Ethan.
The way she'd looked amused.
The way she'd ignored him.
His grip tightened around the whiskey glass.
Dangerously.
Across from him, Zyan noticed.
And suddenly felt a little sorry for Ethan Blackwell.
Very little.
Because if there was one thing everyone knew about Ivaan Mehra...
It was that he hated losing attention.
And for the first time in a very long time...
Someone else had it.
Zyan was still laughing.
A mistake.
A very bold mistake.
"You realize who you are, right?" Zyan said, swirling the drink in his glass.
Ivaan didn't answer.
"You are Ivaan Mehra."
Silence.
"The king of the underworld."
Still silence.
"A billionaire."
Nothing.
"A trustee of Blackwood University."
Ivaan slowly looked at him.
Zyan immediately pointed a finger.
"Exactly."
"What exactly?"
"You are sitting here acting annoyed because a college student shook Ishira's hand."
The atmosphere became noticeably colder.
Zyan wisely took a sip of his drink.
"Careful," Ivaan said.
"No."
"Zyan."
"No."
A grin spread across Zyan's face.
"This is entertaining."
Ivaan's eyes narrowed.
Immediately.
Zyan straightened in his seat.
Years of friendship had taught him one thing.
That look meant shut up.
Immediately.
For a few moments, neither spoke.
Rain continued hitting the glass windows behind them.
The city lights reflected across the private bar.
Then—
A notification appeared on Ivaan's phone.
His gaze dropped to the screen.
The moment he read the message, his expression changed.
Subtly.
But enough for Zyan to notice.
"What happened?"
No answer.
Zyan leaned forward.
"What is it?"
Ivaan placed the phone on the table.
A dangerous calm settled over him.
The kind of calm that usually meant trouble for somebody.
"Nothing."
"That's a lie."
Ivaan picked up his drink.
"They're going for a drive."
"They?"
"Ishira and Kiara."
Zyan blinked.
Then blinked again.
Then burst out laughing.
Loudly.
Very loudly.
"You have updates on where she is?"
Ivaan's glare immediately landed on him.
Zyan shut up.
Instantly.
A survival instinct.
A useful one.
For a few moments, silence returned.
Then Zyan smirked.
A much smaller smirk this time.
"So what now?"
"Nothing."
"You'll stay here?"
"Maybe."
"You'll let them enjoy their drive?"
Ivaan took a slow sip of whiskey.
His expression unreadable.
Across the city, rain continued pouring over Manhattan.
Roads were becoming slippery.
Visibility was dropping.
And for some reason...
He didn't like the thought of Ishira being out there.
Not tonight.
Zyan noticed the look in his eyes.
And immediately knew.
The poor guy actually thought he was being subtle.
He wasn't.
Not even close.
"You're worried."
Ivaan set the glass down.
"I don't worry."
"Sure."
"I don't."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night."
A few seconds later, Ivaan stood from his chair.
Grabbing his blazer from the back of the couch.
Zyan watched with amusement.
"Where are you going?"
Ivaan adjusted his watch.
"Out."
A smirk appeared on Zyan's face.
"To enjoy the weather?"
Ivaan didn't answer.
Which was answer enough.
As he walked toward the elevator, Zyan's laughter followed him through the private bar.
For the first time in years...
The feared Ivaan Mehra was becoming predictable.
And that fact alone was hilarious.
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