The call had ended.
The atmosphere was finally calm again.
At least until Ishira reached for another ice cream container.
Immediately, Ivaan stopped her.
"No."
Ishira looked up.
"What do you mean no?"
"You've had enough."
"It was only three."
"Exactly."
She looked personally offended.
"I want this one."
"No."
"Devil."
"No."
"You're impossible."
"And you're stubborn."
Before she could continue arguing, Ivaan pulled a cigarette from his pocket.
He lit it casually and turned slightly toward the garden.
The faint glow immediately caught Ishira's attention.
Her eyes narrowed.
Then, before he could take another puff—
She snatched it from his fingers.
Ivaan looked down at his now-empty hand.
Slowly.
Very slowly.
The silence that followed was dangerous.
"Butterfly."
Ignoring him completely, Ishira took a puff as if she owned the world.
Trying her best to look confident.
Bossy.
Unbothered.
The problem?
Ivaan wasn't impressed.
One eyebrow rose.
"Since when do you smoke?"
Ishira shrugged.
"Sometimes."
"Sometimes?"
"Not regularly."
Another shrug.
"Just once in a while."
His expression darkened immediately.
"That's still smoking."
She rolled her eyes.
"It's not like I do it every day."
"That doesn't make it smart."
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Ishira looked at the cigarette in her hand.
Her expression softened slightly.
Without another word, she crushed it in the nearby ashtray.
The argument over.
At least that one.
Ivaan watched her.
Satisfied.
Then his attention shifted back to the ice cream container she was still holding.
"No more."
"You sound like a parent."
"You sound like a child."
The comeback was immediate.
Ishira groaned dramatically.
"I hate this."
"I know."
"I hate you."
"I know."
"And I still want the ice cream."
"No."
That answer never changed.
Not once.
Finally, Ivaan stood.
"Go sleep."
"I'm not tired."
Right on cue, she yawned.
A long one.
The silence afterward was brutal.
Ivaan looked entirely too satisfied.
Ishira pointed a finger at him.
"That doesn't count."
"It does."
"It doesn't."
"It does."
A few minutes later, after losing the argument she never had a chance of winning, Ishira finally headed toward the villa.
At the door, she turned around.
"Goodnight, Devil."
A faint smirk appeared.
"Goodnight, Butterfly."
And with that, the argument ended.
For tonight.
After losing the ice cream argument, Ishira turned toward the villa entrance.
She was halfway to the door when—
"Butterfly."
She stopped.
Slowly turning around.
Ivaan was already standing beside his car.
One hand in his pocket.
The other holding his phone.
A faint smirk visible on his face.
"Don't be late tomorrow."
Ishira immediately narrowed her eyes.
The audacity.
After everything—
That was what he wanted to say?
She simply stared at him.
Then rolled her eyes dramatically.
Not giving him the satisfaction of a reply.
And disappeared inside the villa.
Meanwhile, behind her—
The Devil looked entirely too pleased with himself.
The Next Morning
Blackwood University was already buzzing with students.
Cars entered the campus one after another.
Groups of friends hurried toward their lectures.
And among them—
Ishira and Kiara.
Both were making their way toward the academic block.
Coffee in hand.
Bags over their shoulders.
Kiara looked unusually suspicious.
Which immediately worried Ishira.
"What?"
Kiara smirked.
"Nothing."
"Kiara."
"Nothing."
"You're smiling."
"Maybe."
"Why?"
Kiara's smile widened.
"How was the ice cream?"
Ishira nearly choked on her coffee.
"Shut up."
"So it happened."
"Nothing happened."
"Sure."
The teasing continued all the way across campus.
Until—
A black luxury car entered through the main gate.
The atmosphere instantly shifted.
Students began whispering.
Some moved aside.
Others simply stared.
Because everyone knew that car.
And everyone knew who was inside.
Kiara looked toward the road.
Then immediately looked at Ishira.
A dangerous smile appearing.
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Absolutely yes."
The car stopped near the administrative building.
A moment later—
Ivaan Mehra stepped out.
Black shirt.
Rolled sleeves.
Cold expression.
The usual.
His eyes briefly scanned the campus.
Students.
Buildings.
Faculty.
Then—
They landed on Ishira.
For only a second.
But it was enough.
Kiara noticed.
Ishira noticed.
And unfortunately—
Ivaan noticed that they noticed.
A faint smirk appeared.
Gone instantly.
The Devil was clearly enjoying something.
Which was never a good sign.
"Run," Kiara whispered.
"What?"
"Run."
Before Ishira could ask why—
A familiar voice echoed across the pathway.
"Miss Sharma."
Both girls froze.
Kiara immediately looked skyward.
Praying for her friend's survival.
Slowly...
Very slowly...
Ishira turned around.
And found Ivaan standing a few feet away.
One eyebrow raised.
A look of amusement hidden beneath his usual cold expression.
"You're on time."
The reminder from last night instantly came back.
Kiara started laughing.
Ishira looked ready to commit a crime.
And the day had only just begun.
You're on time."
The reminder from last night instantly came back.
Kiara started laughing.
Ishira looked ready to commit a crime.
"Stop laughing."
"I can't."
"Kiara."
"I'm trying."
She absolutely wasn't.
Meanwhile, Ivaan stood there looking far too satisfied.
Which only irritated Ishira more.
"Congratulations," she said dryly.
"For what?"
"I arrived on time."
"Good."
"I hope you're proud."
"I am."
Kiara almost choked trying not to laugh.
Ishira shot her a deadly glare.
Unfortunately, it had no effect.
None at all.
The bell suddenly rang across campus.
Students immediately began rushing toward their classrooms.
Saving Ishira from further embarrassment.
Finally.
"Let's go," she muttered to Kiara.
The two girls turned and started walking toward their lecture hall.
For a moment, everything seemed normal.
Then—
"Butterfly."
Ishira stopped.
Again.
Slowly turning around.
"What now?"
Ivaan's expression remained unreadable.
"Phone."
"What about it?"
"Put it away during my lecture."
Her eyes widened.
"How do you already know I'm going to use it?"
One dark eyebrow lifted.
"Experience."
Kiara lost the battle and burst out laughing.
Ishira looked horrified.
Ivaan looked pleased.
And then he simply walked away toward the faculty building.
Leaving Ishira standing there.
Annoyed.
Embarrassed.
And somehow already irritated before class had even started.
A few minutes later.
The girls entered the lecture hall.
Students were already taking their seats.
The classroom buzzed with conversations.
Kiara immediately sat down beside Ishira.
Still smiling.
Still annoying.
"I hate him."
"No, you don't."
Ishira froze.
That was literally Ivaan's line.
The betrayal.
"You're spending too much time around him."
Kiara smirked.
"Maybe."
Before Ishira could reply—
The classroom door opened.
Instant silence.
Ivaan entered.
Every student immediately stood.
"Good morning, sir."
Ivaan gave a brief nod.
Then his gaze swept across the room.
Stopping for half a second on Ishira.
Just enough for her to notice.
Just enough for him to notice that she noticed.
Then his attention shifted back to the class.
"You may sit."
Everyone obeyed immediately.
The lecture began.
For nearly twenty minutes, everything remained peaceful.
Suspiciously peaceful.
Too peaceful.
Which meant—
Something was definitely about to happen.
For nearly twenty minutes, everything remained peaceful.
Suspiciously peaceful.
Too peaceful.
Which meant—
Something was definitely about to happen.
At the front of the room, Ivaan continued explaining a case study.
Students were busy taking notes.
The classroom remained silent except for the sound of pens moving across paper.
Meanwhile—
Ishira was actually paying attention.
A rare event.
A very rare event.
Even Kiara looked surprised.
Then suddenly—
A folded piece of paper landed on Ishira's desk.
She blinked.
Looked around.
Nothing.
Carefully opening it, she found a single line written inside.
"Miracle. Butterfly is studying."
Her eyes widened.
Immediately.
She looked toward the front.
Ivaan was still teaching.
Still writing on the board.
Still acting as if he had nothing to do with it.
The liar.
The absolute liar.
Slowly, she grabbed her pen.
And wrote back.
"Mind your own lecture, Devil."
A few minutes later, another paper landed on her desk.
"I am."
She rolled her eyes.
Then wrote—
"Clearly not."
The paper disappeared.
Kiara watched the entire exchange.
Trying very hard not to laugh.
And failing miserably.
"Are you passing notes with Professor Mehra?"
"No."
"You literally are."
"No."
"You're literally holding the evidence."
Ishira quickly hid the paper.
Meanwhile, at the front of the room, Ivaan continued speaking.
Not a single change in expression.
Not a single sign.
Then another note arrived.
"Phone away."
Ishira frowned.
What phone?
Then she looked down.
Her phone was half visible beside her notebook.
She immediately hid it.
A few seconds later—
Another note.
"Good girl."
Ishira nearly dropped the paper.
The audacity.
The absolute audacity.
She quickly wrote back.
"You're impossible."
The reply came almost instantly.
"And yet you're still replying."
Her jaw clenched.
Because unfortunately—
He wasn't wrong.
Again.
The bell finally rang.
Students immediately relaxed.
Books closed.
Bags opened.
Everyone preparing for break.
As Ivaan gathered his files, his gaze briefly landed on Ishira.
Then on the folded papers.
Then back on her.
A faint smirk appeared.
Gone instantly.
Only for Ishira to see.
Which somehow made her even more annoyed.
And somewhere beside her—
Kiara had witnessed everything.
Every single thing.
Which meant Ishira was absolutely not surviving the break without being teased.
The bell rang.
Students immediately started talking.
Books closed.
Chairs moved.
The entire classroom came alive.
Meanwhile, Ishira was busy stuffing the folded notes into her bag before Kiara could steal them.
Unfortunately—
Too late.
Kiara had already seen everything.
Absolutely everything.
The moment Ivaan left the classroom, she turned toward Ishira with the biggest grin imaginable.
"Oh my God."
"No."
"Oh my God."
"Kiara."
"You two were passing notes."
"We were not."
"You literally were."
"We weren't."
Kiara dramatically placed a hand over her heart.
"The Devil is passing notes in class."
"Stop."
"The Devil is flirting in Criminal Psychology."
"KIARA."
Several students turned to look.
Ishira immediately wanted the ground to swallow her whole.
Meanwhile, Kiara was having the time of her life.
"This is historical."
"You're annoying."
"I'm honest."
"Same thing."
Before the argument could continue—
A sudden commotion erupted near the cafeteria entrance.
Students immediately began whispering.
Some even stood up.
Curious.
"What happened?" Kiara asked.
One student hurried past them.
"The Student Council is making an announcement."
Immediately, a crowd started gathering.
Both girls exchanged a look.
Then followed everyone else.
Curiosity won.
As always.
A few minutes later.
The central courtyard was packed with students.
Faculty members stood nearby.
The Student Council President stepped onto the platform.
A microphone in hand.
The crowd slowly quieted.
Then the announcement came.
"Next month, Blackwood University will host its annual international leadership summit."
The crowd erupted.
Excitement spread instantly.
Students started whispering.
Asking questions.
Discussing possibilities.
The president continued.
"This year, representatives from universities and corporations around the world will attend."
Even more excitement.
Kiara looked impressed.
Ishira looked mildly interested.
Until—
The next announcement came.
"And several high-profile business leaders will be invited as guest speakers."
The moment those words were spoken—
A very familiar name appeared in Ishira's mind.
Devil.
Unfortunately, Kiara thought the exact same thing.
The moment she turned around, her smile became dangerous.
Very dangerous.
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Imagine if Professor Mehra is one of the speakers."
Ishira groaned.
"I don't want to imagine anything."
Kiara ignored her.
Entirely.
Meanwhile, from the faculty building above the courtyard—
A certain Devil stood near the window.
Watching the crowd below.
Watching the announcement.
And unknowingly—
Watching one stubborn Butterfly who was about to find herself involved in much more than an ordinary university event.
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